First of all, aren’t you glad this post doesn’t have a photo?!
Monday night out on the streets was an interesting one. Somehow I’ve managed to make it two weeks without really being exposed to much vomit. Monday night ended my streak!
When we go out at night, we go out in pairs. On Monday I went out with Neil, and the evening started slow. After our first hour out we were back in the prayer room about 5 minutes when we got a call, about two girls alone and in trouble. Neil and I were able to help them get back to their hotel. In the middle of the madness of helping them, I was able to have a conversation with one of the girls about why she doesn’t believe in God anymore. I’m still a little overwhelmed by the amount of opportunities I get to share God with People. I was able to encourage this girl, by telling her that God was still there, and reaching out to her. I got to give her a bible, and I really just felt like the whole situation was a divine appointment. Like God brought me all the way out here to Ibiza just to meet her, and share His love with her. As I get to help people, and talk to them, and pray for them night after night, I'm struck by that thought that my being here is God's love. That he's loving people through me. He's meeting them where they're at, and reaching out to them. In the middle of vomit, and mess, God is here.