"Ah, je suis désolée mais il faut ouvrir les yeux..."
"Ah I'm sorry, but you have to open your eyes..."
Confused, I stopped mid-prayer and looked up to catch the reassuring glances of my three sisters around me. I knew about the policy of laïcité (separation of state and religion) in France but only saw its real impact when a Muslim woman recently made headlines for wearing a voile in public. I didn't realize that it would intrude upon my prayer life. I didn't know that I've been illegally praying in public for the past five months here. So there I was, sitting in a hotel lobby with three other ladies from Hillsong, praying with my eyes open in what was to be an experience that I will never forget. Despite this troubling news, I left the hotel hopeful for my first day at the halte with sisters that I just met that morning.
As we turned the corner, we saw the sun shine brilliantly upon what looked like a children's day-care center. Aesthetically and functionally, that's what it was, but there were no children running around here other than a young baby being nursed by her mother.
During the day, the building houses women who would otherwise have nowhere else to go. Even before we entered, we came across one woman washing her hair outside with a hose. She turned at the sound of our footsteps, and I immediately noticed a bloody gash on her nose. I would soon find out that she got into a fight with another woman on the streets the night before.
We went inside to find a diverse group of women sitting around the television as two workers in the kitchen began to clear the table of breakfast foods. They greeted us with enthusiasm before we immediately got to work setting up chairs and organizing our manicure sets on the tables.
Public evangelization is strictly banned in France, but we can share our testimonies if they ask. As we massaged their hands and painted their nails, they asked where we came from and would ceaselessly thank us. Massaging the hand of one woman who came from Sri Lanka, I began to silently pray for her. What a difference it makes to know the person whom you are praying for! Hearing her story gave me a greater urgency to pray. Relational ministry. She taught me a few phrases in Tamil and chuckled at my unsuccessful attempts. Next to me a young girl from Cameroon beamed when I recalled a few phrases of English Pidgin from last summer.
Oh man, this is why I love languages. Even if it's just a few phrases, it's a way of saying "Look, you're so cool and I want to be like you! Yes, I probably sound silly, but I want make the effort to know you on your turf!" Learning another language is the most humbling process ever, but I think of my Father who not only took upon the language but wholly transformed Himself to walk with me. Jesus, your incarnation continues to be my motivation.
One by one, we painted their nails and massaged their hands. I could tell that many of the women were not used to the gentle touch of a friend and saw the joy spread across their faces.
I may not have had loaves of bread or fish at my disposal, but I praised God this afternoon for giving me hands with years of manicure experience.
So Daddy, multiply multiply!
Thank you for opening my eyes today.
