Hearts bound up

An interesting thing happens when you go out and meet people doing evangelism. You go out, you run into people, you connect then something gives you a yearning desire to see this person happy.

No matter who I meet doing this, they always have at least a tinge of sorrow pervading their speech. 

Such is a family Ive just met

Joan is the person Ive been meeting with for the past couple of Sabbaths after church. We were distributing literature and I came to a house in which I met her son Damon, probably around 40 or so. We connected and I shared with him a few spiritual things and he relayed to me his distrust of the validity of scripture, but he is a Christian. 

The following Sabbath after I met him, I went back to his house to give him some more focused literature about the Bible. But he wasn't there, who was was his mother Joan who lives with him. She is a wonderful lady, she invited me and my friend Ashley in and sat us down and talked with us for 3 hours straight. She happens to be born and raised in Jamaica, though caucasian. She Has also a lot of burdens on her heart, as one of her sons, Damons older brother had already died when he was 32 and her husband passed around 4 years ago.

When she talks about her son and her husband she talks as if they are still alive. Referencing to how they would like things and such. She blames herself for her husbands death. She thinks she might've prevented it, though he died in surgery and from her telling of the story and it seems to clearly be the doctors fault. But nonetheless it plagues her with nightmares and such. She still finds hope somewhere though, I can't quite find out how. She also, like her son, claims Christianity but doesnt seem to put much stock in its validity either. 

That first day we talked with her I also got to meet with her 20yo granddaughter, Brianna. She is a very distinct individual, contrastly composed to that of her very proper grandmother. Though nice, Brianna has a aura that makes me want to get to know her, I see a lot of my old self in her. She is an artist, deep in the underground, late night, online communities. She puts up speed drawings of her often dark, or gloomy emotionalized paintings. She dresses like someone I wouldve been good friends with before Ouachita Hills, she has a couple piercings, one in her nose. Along with that, hair that has been many colors Im sure, and tattoos of many varieties. But she is perky and smily when I talk to her, but I can still sense that longing for the Love that only comes from above.

I gave them more materials yesterday, and talked a couple more hours with Joan, still not seeing Damon since he shops all day Saturday. I look forward to seeing what God will use me for in this, he has given me a desire to see them living in peace and fulfillment. I know God has changed me, and I want them to experience his love as well.