So, ya'll know that I take a very early morning bus to the Pentagon right? This bus leaves at around 6:20 in the morning, ensuring that I get to work between 7 and 7:20. Normally the bus that I take is incredibly packed, I guess that a lot of people that work at the Pentagon live in Springfield or Fairfax, but either way, that normally means that there are only a few seats left by the time the bus makes it to my stop. Well, anyways, normally I listen to my Pandora on my phone in the mornings, so I generally don't interact too much with the other people on the bus.
Well, a few weeks ago (I know, I'm sorry I'm just putting this up now), I decided,
"You know what? I am going to NOT listen to my music, and instead, I'm going to PEOPLE WATCH!"
Well, as it turns out, people on the bus at 6:20 in the morning are not very interesting. Most of them sit slumped in the hard backed seats, heads lolled to one side, drowning out their exhaustion with music and caffeine. Normally I join them, but today, I have decided that I will not give in, and instead see these people as people, instead of simple animated objects that accompany me to work every morning.
On this particular morning, the first indication that something would happen was that the bus was nearly empty. Normally there are only a few seats near the back available. Well, on this occasion, there were so many open seats that I didn't feel bad sitting in one of the front seats that are reserved for handicap and elderly citizens. I figured I could always move if someone else got on the bus. But, no one did. So, for the first half of the bus ride, I contented myself with staring at different people, and tried to imagine what they were feeling. What they did for a living, where they were going, why they were getting there so early, so on and so on. As I continued sweeping the bus for any interesting people, I noticed the woman sitting directly in front of me. She was sitting across the aisle from me, and I instantly knew that I was going to go and talk to her. My heart started pounding like it normally does when the Holy Spirit prompts me to do something, and my hands started sweating.
"God, I CAN'T go and talk to this woman! What am I going to say? What am I going to do?"
I sit in my seat, feeling like I've just run a marathon, looking at this woman. I have seen her before. She is always on the bus. Always sitting in the same seat. She always greets me with a smile and a hand squeeze. I feel like I kind of know this woman, but I realize now that I don't. I don't really know this woman. I don't know anything about her. But the Lord obviously wants me to talk to her.
There are still twenty minutes left, do I really have to go talk to her?
Well, I keep looking at her, and I notice that she looks incredibly sad. I hadn't been paying too much attention earlier, but she hadn't greeted me with a smile earlier this morning. She had only looked at me as I walked to my seat across from her. As I watched her now, I got the feeling that she needed healing from a broken heart.
Really Lord?!?!?!
I mean, how do you introduce yourself to pray for someone for something that personal? "Hi, how are you? I don't really know you, sure, I see you on the bus every morning, but I really got the feeling that you needed some prayers for a broken heart. May I pray with you for that?"
Yeah.... That was not going to happen...
So, I keep staring at her. Ten minutes to the Pentagon. And I know that I need to talk to her. I watch her. She wipes a tear from her eye. Five minutes to the Pentagon. Suddenly, I am very sure that her knee needs healing as well. All right, I can work with this.
So, I take a deep breath, and heart-pounding, knees-knocking, I stand up, and quickly cross to the empty seat beside her.
"Hey!"
She looks at me. Her face slowly lights up, as though she's remembering that she knows how to smile. She says "Good morning" in response. This is off the a great start.
"How are you doing today? I couldn't help but notice that you were looking really sad, and I wanted to make sure everything was okay."
She bursts in to tears.
Okay, I am not prepared for this. I offer up a quick prayer, "Lord, a little guidance here?"
She calms down a little bit, and tells me, in halting English, that her youngest son is overseas and he was in some sort of accident. She doesn't know what sort of accident-- no one will tell her. She is terrified that her boy is injured, that he will come home in terrible condition. That he might not come home at all.
So, I take her hand in mine, and we begin this short conversation:
"I'm so sorry," I say, "Here, I don't think I caught your name earlier. Mine is Becca."
"Mitsa." She responds, smiling through her tears.
"Well Mitsa, I'm a Christian, and I was wondering if I could pray with you for your son?" (I decide to leave out the bit about her knee. I'm not sure how to bring that up yet.)
She looks at me, a little shocked. "Well, I would, but I only pray in Spanish."
(At this point I am very frustrated with God. Why would He send me over here if it was going to be this challenging)? "Well, Mitsa, I think if you start praying in Spanish and I start praying in English, someone will get the message, and our prayers will be answered."
She stares at me for a second, and then starts praying in fluent Spanish. I pause, and then begin. I say a short prayer for her son, and I pray for him to be returned home safely. I pray for Mitsa's worry and stress to go away, for her heart to be restored, and told her that even though she felt like she couldn't go on any further, the Lord was carrying her and her whole family at this very moment. I end a moment later, and thank God for the day and for our time together in prayer. I look up at Mitsa (my eyes have been closed in terror up to this point) and I see her looking at me in complete astonishment. She gives me a huge kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you.... Becca. Thank you so much. You are so.... sweet. I feel as though there has been a huge.... weight lifted from my heart. I feel the Lord right now. You are so...... beautiful. Thank you so much."
At this point, we are entering Pentagon station, so I get up to return to my seat. I sit down, and realize that I am shaking like a leaf. But I know that I did the right thing. I know that Mitsa needed some serious intervention, and that even though I was frikin' terrified the entire time, the Lord was really going to do spectacular things. I go to grab my backpack, but the woman next to me stops me. I look over and realize that this woman is the same woman that I see every morning at my bus stop. Her name is Primela, and we are becoming very good friends during our daily encounters in the freezing air. She places her hand on mine and says "Thank you". Thank you for what? I didn't do anything for her. But she looks over at Mitsa and says in her Indian-French accent (I'll explain later), "That took serious courage. I did not have that kind of courage. Thank you for loving that woman."
Now it really is time to get off the bus. I feel like I'm walking on air. Sometimes the Lord amazes me with His audacity. Even though I don't understand what I do for the Lord most of the time (all of the time), I realize that even though I don't see the larger plan, I am still at least a part of the plan. This realization makes me even happier. And even though the rest of the day is pretty awful, that encounter makes me smile every time I think about it.
So.....
The next morning, the bus is crowded as usual. I am forced to sit in the back. I hate the back of the bus. The seats are slightly more crammed together, and you're higher up, so you're looking down on other people's heads, which slightly unnerves me. But that's a story for a different day. I am going to finish the story of Mitsa (up to this point) and then ask a question.
So, I'm walking to the back of the bus. And I walk past Mitsa. She gives me a humongous smile as I past. I wanted to sit next to her to ask her how she was doing. But all the seats are full, so I shuffle by. I don't really realize what I'm seeing until I sit down and place my backpack on the floor. Although Mitsa is smiling, her knee is in a brace.
THE SAME KNEE I DIDN'T PRAY OVER YESTERDAY!!!!!
Wow. Okay. I was not expecting that. I look up at the ceiling, and I'm pretty sure that God is smiling down at me with His caring eyes and His "I told you so" half-smirk....
To Be Continued....
Okay, so here is the question. I have two more parts to this story. But if I kept going, this blog post would
be neverending. So, the question is. When do ya'll want me to put up parts 2 and 3? I can do my customary Friday blog post, or I can put them up consecutively.... Thoughts?
Let me know what you think :)

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