A few weeks back, we headed to what we were told was going to be “door to door” ministry in a remote village that we had never been to before. I reluctantly threw on my floor grazing skirt and my bright yellow poncho, having absolutely no idea what to expect. In Nicaragua, the weather is just as unpredictable as the ministry. We crammed in the back of the truck and drove for about thirty minutes through the forest like terrain. We arrived. A beautiful green field on the left, and nothing but dirt paths to the right. We split into 3 groups; my group was given direction by a native man that walked with us. As we walked, he explained that in 1998 there was a massive volcanic eruption where ash and rain engulfed the exact land that we were standing on. In disbelief I listened to him explain the devastation that took place. The mix of ash and heavy rain caused fire and flood which took the lives of 7,000 people that night. The people that we met that day were all refugees of the tragedy.
We met the strong and weary souls of the people that survived and were trying to reestablish homes for themselves and their families again. We were blessed with the opportunity to pray for a blind woman, a crippled woman, and many others. Among the people that we met along the way was one small girl who, with short curly hair and a huge smile, caught my eye. Her name was Kelli. She walked hand in hand with her teenage sister, as they followed us around the barrio and right into the midst of one of our prayer circles. Her sister caught my attention while we were praying over an elderly man and told me that Kelli was sick. I kept trying to ask her why in Spanish, and somehow after a short explanation I finally understood that her red blood cells were being attacked… Kelli has Leukemia. Kelli is 4 years old. My heart shattered. We kept walking, and praying. Kelli disappeared.
My mind tried to recollect the broken pieces and put them back together, but it took me awhile to snap back to reality. We had to go back. We had to do something. After asking a few people, we found her; she walked up smiling bigger than ever. We met her family at their house and asked them if it was okay if we prayed over her. With hope in their eyes they said yes, and we began to pray. As we prayed it started to rain. Rain to me these days is a constant reminder of the presence and faithfulness of Yahweh. It was a beautiful and perfect timing, something that could only be of the Lord. The family joined in on the prayer as we all prayed for healing and restoration over Kelli’s body. We all had a huge hug fest, and received many cheek kisses from Kelli’s Mom. I held Kelli for a long time, and letting her out of my hold wasn’t easy.
As we drove away that day tears filled my eyes. I have no idea if Kelli was healed. I will most likely never know. But I do know that we serve a God that heals. And I do know that prayer is powerful. So please don’t let Kelli disappear for even a minute like she did for me that day. Please pray for Kelli.
