Yesterday I spent the afternoon at a pool party.

It may seem unremarkable; Nashville summer is eat-your-ice-cream-quick hot and this is the weekend of fireworks and barbeques, too-pink skin and Chaco tan lines. Yes, this party may have fit the American mold in that there was food, laughter, and the sun shone bright, but that is where the similarities end. This was the first pool party I had ever attended in which I did not speak the primary language, or know what most of the food I was consuming was called.

This was the first pool party I’d ever been to that was thrown especially for me.Jesus welcoming us

Let me just say this: the people of El Shaddai know how to throw a surprise party. Although Caleb, James and I were shocked to discover that the small gathering we’d been expecting from a casual invitation the week prior was in reality a full-blown party, we felt comfortable. In the midst of the jokes and homemade coconut ice cream of this Spanish-speaking congregation I found myself at home, a welcome addition to this beautiful community, simply because through love I was invited to be.

As I peruse the Holy Word I’m struck by the fact that God has forever known the importance of an invitation. I’ve often puzzled over the seemingly simple queries of the Lord, from the “Where are you?” of Garden of Eden fame (Genesis 3:9) to the seemingly flippant “Would you like to get well?” to the lame man at the pool of Bethesda. (John 5:6). Doesn’t God already know the answers? This week I realized that God uses questions as an invitation towards engagement with Him. Through questions God invites me to be found and be healed, to grasp tightly to His bloodied hand. Through Jesus, God reaches out an invitation to engage with me.

This week I met “Biruh”, a beautiful young refugee woman. Biruh is three months young to America, the beloved younger sister of her older brother “Myo”, a new employee of Tyson® working 60 hours a week. Biruh is severely anemic and very weak. Biruh is also deaf and mute. Along with James Dolezal, I accompanied Michael Daniel, Siloam’s Physician’s Assistant, to visit Biruh at home. When we arrived, we were shocked at what we found—Biruh, sitting despondent in a corner of the small living room, head hanging low. She was in the company of a neighbor, a man who (when prompted) attempted to communicate with her by speaking loudly. “That means she has to use the bathroom,” he said confidently as Biruh almost imperceptibly moved her left hand. When asked about her family (Biruh was unresponsive) the neighbor promptly disappeared to locate them, leaving us alone with Biruh for almost ten minutes.

She didn’t lift her head the entire time.

Eventually her family returned and confirmed what I feared: Biruh spent the majority of each day in the tiny apartment, alone. Her mother commented that, although she asks Biruh to clean for her, she is “lazy and slow”.

As I looked at Biruh I felt that I had never seen a more vulnerable person. Here was a person begging with her whole being to be invited to engage; and as we prayed for her before departing I hoped she realized that Jesus was extending that bloodied palm towards her. As we prayed for healing for Biruh, body and mind, I prayed the truth of Scripture, “My ways are far beyond anything you could imagine…He who did not spare even His own Son, how will He not also freely and graciously give all things?” (Isaiah 55:8, Romans 8:32).

I cannot understand Biruh’s pain, her loneliness, or God’s purpose in her debilitating disability. But I remain confident that God invites her to be His, to rest and be healed, and so I hope. I hope in the invitation that will allow her to feel at home with a family of strangers. I hope in the promise of “how will He not also…?”. I place my hope in that bloody cross, and I pray for Biruh, because through His love I am invited to do so.

Claire Johnson - CHI 2013 participant Claire is a participant in Siloam’s Community Health Immersion.

An Invitation

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