Skip to main content

Two girls on the beach front that impacted my life.

One in Amsterdam. One in Fortaleza. Two interactions which marked my life; one full of hope and new life. The other void of future and dreams.

I was driving back from the city centre last after praying with a team that was heading out to evangelise on the beach front. Driving along my thoughts wandered to two beautiful women I’ve had the privilege to get to know on my journey in ministry, and how meeting with them on the beach front meant such different things.

The first was Anna. When I first got to know her she was a bubbly 12-soon-to-be-13 year old who came to our open house for street children in Fortaleza around 2003. She quickly connected with us, and we celebrated her 13th birthday during one of our times. A few months later I remember the same girl come to our door in quite a different state. Her hair bleached blond and tangled, and her body bruised. I remember sitting in the office listening to her story of finding herself in a taxi on her way to a client, deciding to get out on the way, only to be beaten up by her friend for not following through. Listening to this scared, young girl, as she poured out her heart, I remember holding back my own tears and quietly praying for the strength to be strong for her... Six years later I am at the Beira Mar beach front. A group of women walk past and one of them says: “Oi tia Elisabeth.” It was Anna. The young girl, now young woman was, stood in front of me, and yet my heart sunk as I saw how dead the expression in her face was and how ragged her body looked. We sat down there by the sea and talked. At first her answers were affirming that she was doing fine, yet the fake smile and lack of life in her eyes shared a different story. As I asked her if she was doing programas her response was: ”I won’t lie, tia, I am. But I like it!” We talked a little more and I prayed for her, before she went off to join her friends. Seeing her go I realized that she might even believe what she told me at some level. A girl so lost she believed she was living in freedom.

The other beach moment brings a smile to my face even as I write it. It’s the story of Isabel and the setting is a beach in Zandvort aan Zee, just outside of Amsterdam. The story of a woman I met in a window whose life changed forever when she met Jesus. The beach part of her journey was her baptism. And the baptism “pool” was the North Sea in May. I remember the joy and celebration of life, and I remember the coldness of the water as we ran into it to baptise her. Yet, what I remember most was her testimony of how she was stuck in darkness and Jesus came and gave her life. The memory of that moment almost a year ago means even more knowing that she continues to walk day by day with God. Knowing that as people are out ministering to women who are where she was, she is interceding on their behalf; asking God to meet them and change them, the way He has her.

I don’t know what happened to Anna. It’s been 7 years since that encounter. But I still pray for her from time to time when I think of her. I hope that the future she was walking into when I met her has changed and that maybe, just maybe one day I’ll meet her again and she’ll not be so lost anymore.

As I am remembering; the recent and the distant, I realise that this remembering is also part of processing this journey. Facing a moving on is also about looking back and realizing what my journey has been. And as these memories trigger other memories, and many many faces return to my mind and heart, I realize that although I haven’t lived that long, my life even to this point has been so rich. Rich because I’ve been allowed to love so many amazing people. Rich, not just because of the happy, joyful moments, but also because of being allowed be to share in pain and hardship. And I am even richer because I find that the same way I carry so many in my heart, there are others who in the same way carry me in their hearts. And that brings me joy.

Popular posts from this blog

Taking in the familiar and a heart connected.

Amsterdam. It still has that muggy feeling in Summer, and a constant flow of people which if you stop to think about it, it's quite amazing that there would even be space to accommodate them all. But then I guess they are not all staying. Just passing through on their way to or from somewhere. It's always good for the heart to visit somewhere that was once home. The familiarity of streets and customs makes it easier to embrace what might be new as well as the joy of being reacquainted with old friends. Friends. So many of them to be found in this city, ready with hugs and good words that are uttered when seeing someone who was away again. Friendship. A treasure that cannot be bought. Cobblestones trodden by many, including myself. Sitting on a bench. Praying. Remembering the first time I stumbled upon this area lined with windows with red lights and curtains. An area which has come to represent no longer windows, but people to me. Some still behind a window. Others who have ...
Read more

Getting to know the local culture.

Life is a strange thing. Last week went…not much happened, and then it was over. The weekend was quite calm without too many wild and exciting things happening. Except, of course, a wee outing to watch the National Championship for Veteran Ploughing. Now, like me, you might be sadly lacking an understanding of what this actually means. So I am delighted to be able to enlighten you in this respect. It’s basically (for the “farm-language-illiterate” like myself) a competition where you use old (hence the name “veteran”) tractors and ploughs, and plough up a stretch of field which is then evaluated and the one scoring the highest sum (accuracy, depth, how well the soil is turned is all given points) wins. I must admit that this information I got by eavesdropping on a conversation next to me where a man was explaining to some of my friends how it all works. So that was a fun adventure….although we only stayed for a bit. What is sort of occupying my mind at present is my upcoming travel abr...
Read more

What was your dream?- scraping the surface of the heart of Albania

“What was your dream when you were 20?” That was a question our guide asked us as we were standing outside a huge derelict cement monument in Tirana, the capital of Albania. We’d spent the day touring and hearing a lot about the history and journey of Albania, a young country with more Albanians living in other countries than in Albania itself. A country where tourism has only really been built up the past 30 years. It was eye opening to hear more of the history, and it made me realise that this country is so much more than meets the eye. A country where the beaches and tourist area of Durres Riviera was packed with tourists, mostly from the Balcan area. A country where hospitality is ingrained in the culture, and where the friendliness of the people was noticeable. After a pause to let us reflect over the question of dreams, for some thinking further back than others, our guide told us that for him it had been to own a pair of jeans. That simple fact said so much. Both of what he...
Read more