Glow

The Women at the Well group has started and is in it's second week. Already, I can tell that it's what the last four years have been building towards, and I can only imagine how the Lord may use it in the future - in my own life, and in the lives of these precious ladies.

It's a safe space to share similar stories. "You're not alone" was my favorite thing shared last night. Or, "Thank you, that really helped me," from one group member to another. The funny thing is, I'm really not doing or saying much. It's in the listening, in allowing them to comfort one another, it's in the pointing back to Jesus where the healing is happening. These tragedies and traumas, of innocence lost before they could even had a chance, is heartbreaking. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes twice as they shared. And yet, the bravery, the boldness, the sheer determination of these women! Survivors, indeed. I'm in awe of them, and in the work God is doing in their lives.

We meet in the green room, and the irony is not lost on me. One, because it's tucked away behind the stage. This kind of work is not meant for the bright lights. And also, it's called the green room and I've been praying that it would be like a greenhouse for these tender seeds and shoots to sprout and grow in an environment that nourishes their souls.

I recognize I'm out of my depths. This is not my personal story. And yet in another sense, the actual starting of this group these last few weeks have been the most effortless. It's been four years in the making, so I've never felt more ready to begin anything in my life. It's been such a slow unfurling; so slow, it's caught me by surprise. Blink, and you'll miss it.

Last weekend, my first butterfly was homeless. She left the shelter and was really struggling. What was so hard was there was nothing I could do. Wise counsel instructed me to just pray. Because of her own bad choices, she had exhausted the help of my church, the nonprofit I help... she was lying and being deceitful. Sunday, she came into church. I had her sit beside me during worship. She smelled from days outside. I love her. She's become my friend. God has used her to help me start this group, to learn so much. How had it come to this? I finally got her to suicide watch. I don't know what will happen with her...

Another girl, I've affectionally called "ballcap girl" in my mind because of her constant sunglasses/ballcap, also has either left or gotten kicked out of the shelter (you never know the real story...). She was in my group, but never opened her mouth. So closed off. So scared. She asked for help, a ride home, last night. I could tell she also wanted a warm meal. We got tacos, got her stuff from the shelter so she could close that door. When my car doors stood open to receive her things at dusk, a lone firefly flew into where she had been sitting. It made me smile. It felt like a Wink. I tried to catch him.

I wanted to hold the glow, see it reflect off my palms, but he flew out again.

Precious things, like fireflies or butterflies, aren't meant to be held too tightly.

We headed to her home a little outside of town. On the long drive in the dark, I kept asking if we were close; my nerves were a little shot from helping my butterfly the weekend before. I confess I didn't want to help her like this; was she even getting anything out of coming to church? It was late, it was dark, it had rained, the roads were slick. I realized this probably wasn't a good idea. Something I would have cautioned other people not to do. We pull up to her house, I see what looked like a construction zone in the basement, and I wonder what kind of awful evil had been done in there. She has never opened up with details, so I can only imagine...

And yet, there was a large field and two big trees by her house. And as I waited for her as she went inside to grab something, I noticed hundreds of fireflies twinkling across the grass. It was like light-confetti or yellow glitter or lights on the Eiffel Tower circa 2000 when I visited Paris and they lit it up in celebration for a new millennium. I took a video, but it didn't do it justice. I looked up, and there were hundreds in the trees too, in tall branches, all over.

It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. I'd never seen so many.

It reminded me of a little kids Christian song I grew up with about a little character named "Farley McFirefly." He had a Scottish accent (why not?) and he sang a refrain "So I glooooooooooow! And give the glory all to God!" Then the kids joined in and they all sang in unison, "So we glooooooooooooooooow! And give the glory all to God!"

I tried to catch the glow in my hands. But God had a spectacular view waiting for me that only He could do, and only He could orchestrate. So big you couldn't contain it. So precious and gentle. Little whispers of light. No bright stage lights that make you squint. Just glows. Hundreds of them.

And it took going into the darkest of places to see it.

I tried to show her the wonder: "Look at your field! It's glowing!" But it was lost on her. Getting her minifridge into the house was top priority. But I pray one day she, and all these ladies, will see the precious light He has given each one of them to shine.

If they would only have eyes to see it.