On April 19th, standing at the bus terminal in Santa Maria I met a young Mexican man. He asked me for the time and we struck a conversation. He blurted out that it was his first day of freedom, he just served a 10 year sentence. I did not ask him what he did since we were about to erase the file and cancel his debt. Without hesitation I told him about true freedom, his name is Jesus. For forty five minutes I shared my testimony with him, preached the gospel to him and led him to The Lord just as the bus was pulling into the station. We got to LA and got on another bus, I gave him my number and told him that I would be praying for him. I blessed him as a mother and prayed for protection, provision and the wisdom to make the right decisions. He asked me:” how come you were not afraid of me?” I smiled, look at him and said:” the mere fact that you left all these people and came to me was an invitation from God to tell you how much He loves you.” I will call him “Joe”, he was covered with tattoos from his scalp to his feet, around 6 feet, 180 pounds.
The truth is a month before meeting “Joe”, I took care of a really sick teenager. After two very hard shifts, the father told a Spanish speaking doctor that he and his daughter were afraid of me. That really hurt. At home my roommate babysit a couple of kids on occasion, and I noticed the father was very uncomfortable around me. What do these two incidents have in common, they are all Mexicans. I thought about not going to Mexico, but something rose up in me. I remembered a sermon where the preacher said that Satan uses offenses to rob us of blessings, appointed time and so forth, I decided to fight. So I went to the courts of heaven with three witnesses; Luke 4:18, Acts 1:8, Acts 10:38. You can only guess the thoughts that ran into my mind when I met team Mexico at the airport and was the only black person. As I placed an inner 911 call to Jesus, someone tap me on the shoulder and said: “welcome, glad you made it safely.” I remember thinking that its was either going to be very good or really really bad.
Let me tell you, it was better than good. Everyone I ministered to was touched. The prophetic words flowed so much that some of the translators had trouble keeping up with me. When the first person I prayed for, a baby unable to make tears since birth got healed, I lost all reserve. God did something else, He healed my heart of the hurt that I carried with me from California. I felt the love of God all around me. Words of encouragement from the team. I got hugs from the kids, the teens and let not forget the grandmas, they kissed me every time they saw me. Fuerza Agape opened wide their arms from the leadership to the congregation. The love of God flowed from me to them and from them to me. Fast forward Sunday afternoon, I never expected the tears that came saying goodbye to my newfound friends. I would have missed all that God wanted to do in me and through me if did not push pass the offence and the pain it caused me. I would have missed working with some awesome anointed sons and daughters of All Mighty God. Morale of the story one or two persons do not represent an entire race. Hasta luego Fuerza Agape. Te veo el proximo ano.