We sing out these words all the time in worship and sometimes I think we barely think about what we are asking God to do in our lives. We are asking him for hurt, for pain, for burdens. These words became so true in my heart late Monday night.
Two of our leaders were up late talking in the kitchen of our team house here in Nsoko, the last thing they expected was a small face to appear in the window muttering “Bailey.” Pamela at once recognized the young girl as Abigail, a young girl I had made friends with the previous Friday. They came and got me immediately and as soon as I looked into Abigail’s eyes I could tell this was not just a late night visit, something deeper was going on.
The day I met this beautiful 14 year old girl I could tell that God was calling me to do something in her life. I thought at first that this meant praying for shoes for her and just simply being a friend to a lonely little girl. The Friday I met her we had hit it off so well that she invited me to come meet her dad at her house. I was so glad about this small friendship that had begun! I would soon become much more thankful God had brought us together as Abigail would soon explain to me why she was paying us a late night visit.
As I looked at Abigail no amount of preparation could have made me ready for what she would tell me next. She went on to tell me that her father was away at the hospital because he was very sick, and that his “girlfriend” had yelled and screamed at her and kicked her out of the house with no time to even collect her clothes. This poor girl had walked over a mile and a half with no shoes and with zero lights on the dark street.
I went on to ask an even harder question. The day I had met her I had noticed that her belly was sticking out further than the average malnourished tummy we had sadly seen every day. I laid my hand on her stomach and asked her to please tell me what was going on with that. She went on to softly tell me that she was seven almost eight months pregnant due to her uncle raping her over and over again in February. This poor young girl was homeless, pregnant with her rape baby, 14 years old, and in need of a friend more than ever. We called Pastor Gift and he came and heard this tragic story. We decided that it would be best if she continued to stay at Pastor Gift’s house until her father arrived back from the hospital.
I currently do not go to ministry with my team anymore. I spend all my time with Abigail listening to her story, praying for her, reading scripture, talking about names for her baby, as well as plans for the baby’s future. We laugh, and dig deep, I go with her to the clinic, and we prepare for the news of her HIV results. The next step is to try and get her into a half way house where she can receive counseling for her suicide thoughts as well as to prepare her for the HIV results. This baby will be here before she knows it. All we can do is trust that the Lord hears his children’s cries, as well as know that he will be sovereign and just in this situation.
I truly know how it feels to take up my cross and feel the burden of another. When we pray for her and I can hardly breathe because I can feel her pain so badly. My nights are often filled with tears of sorrow and my thoughts become consumed with this broken teenage girl. I am breaking inside and all I can do for this young girl is walk through this horrible pain with her, dying on the inside.
