Runaway Soul

I guess I never imagined how time consuming writing two blogs would be. I barely have time to write one, nevertheless two. I have two seperate visions but neither seems to be taking off. I mean, what's a "message" without an audience?

Anyway, the negative vibes and restlessness were kicking into overdrive, so I decided to grab my laptop and head to a local bookstore. As a former Sociology major,  I had a peculiar way of "watching people" and making up fictional stories, about what I thought their lives would be like. Surely, venturing out into public would spark some type of creativity.

As I sat on the faux, leather couch, with my laptop on a nearby table, I noticed a young woman, wondering aimlessly down the isles. She appeared to be frantically searching for something important. I wanted to help, but I wasn't an employee, so maybe I couldn't provide much assistance. I thought I knew where everything was but offering to help was a bit of a stretch. She appeared to be much younger than me, but I could tell she'd been through her fair share of storms.

I discreetly kept watching her, because her nervousness made me uneasy. I didn't feel like she was trying to steal a book. That would make no sense. I mean the library had plenty for free. She was very neat and well put together, so there was no need to try and guess her story. I needed discernment from the Holy Spirit to help this young lady. I got up and searched the bookshelf near her.  I gave a warm, welcoming smile but she offered very, little eye contact. She was so nervous in my presence that she dropped the book.  I hurried to pick it up before her, and glanced to see that it was a book on Domestic Violence. I desperately wanted to pull her in for a great, big, bear hug, but she looked so scared and frail, I offered to buy her a cup of coffee instead. I had about twenty books in cash on hand and boy did I want a fictional book to read leisurely. I needed an escape from all the serious reads but this was an urgent matter.

When I asked, if I could buy her her a cup of coffee, she rudely answered, "Why?" I was halfway startled and somewhat offended, but then I immediately sympathized with her easiness. I reassured her that I wasn't a psychopath and pointed to my laptop for her to read the blog I was working on. After reading a few sentences, she apologized and explained that there weren't too many strangers that acknowledged her.

As we sat in a dimly lit corner, she begin to share her story. Kim was a twenty-three year old with five kids, which she'd lost custody. The State placed her kids with various family members and she hadn't seen them in over a year. She explained that her live-in boyfriend was a "bad man." He was twenty five years older than her and was in and out of prison.  She said he rescued her and the kids off the crime-infested streets of Durham, when she was fifteen. She was a homeless, teenage mother, who became impregnated by a few of her mom's regular boyfriends. Kim said her mom sold her soul to a crack pipe and handed Kim along to compensate for the bill.  She ran away as way of escape, and here she was running from the very thing that she ran to.

Kim said her live-in boyfriend was a violent, monster who sold drugs by day and snorted heroin by night. He beat her senseless, anytime she refused to go make him some quick money on the streets by soliciting her body. She went on to further explain that he was responsible for her front teeth missing. I held back the tears, but I couldn't listen to anymore without praying for her. I stretched my arms across the table, and she hesitated at first, but then offered hers.  I couldn't help but notice the cut marks on her wrist. She pulled down her sleeves in embarrassment, but I got a good look at them. These were fresh cuts. As I prayed, we both cried. I got so loud that I literally forgot we were in a bookstore. As I looked up, two of the employees joined us in prayer too. They later told me that they expected Kim was homeless, but she looked harmless, so they never made her leave.

I couldn't leave her, without hearing her plans or at least making sure she had somewhere safe to stay for the night. She said, she was going wherever the $95 she collected would take her. Kim said her boyfriend was in jail again and this was her moment to break free.

She said she would buy a bus ticket to head up north, where they had more available resources for women in her situation. She said the local women's shelter wouldn't take her in because her boyfriend aways found her and made trouble. Kim said she would probably catch the bus to Washington, DC and make a fresh start. I really didn't want to let her go. She had suffered enough!

We talked some more and I convinced her to give her life to Christ right there in the bookstore. The coffee wouldn't let me hold off any longer, so I instructed her to stay put. I asked permission to make some phone calls on her behalf and I slipped to the bathroom.

When I came out, my laptop and belongings were on the table, but there was no sign of Kim. The employees said, she asked them to watch my things and said she would be right back, but she was long gone.

One the ride home, I beat myself up repeatedly. If only I didn't excuse myself, would things have turned out any different? How many Kim's do we encounter on a daily basis, without knowing? We don't know their stories, but do we take the time to find out? I was super vexed! Was Kim my assignment that slipped through the cracks of my fingers? God reassured me that I did the best that I could, but my soul still weeps for her. This could have easily been my story BUT GOD!

I pray that God will do a "new thing" in her life.
I pray that her head finds the safety, security and satisfaction in Him.
I pray that she sleeps in a warm, bed at night.
I pray that she takes to heart some of the seeds, I was fortunate enough to plant.
I pray that she will lean into Him for all understanding and direction.
I pray that she will be delivered from the bondage and freed from her past.
I pray that He transforms the little, lost "runaway soul" to a mighty warrior in the kingdom for His glory.

"Very truly I tell you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be judged but has crossed over death to life."
--John 5:24

**Please note this is a fictional account of a true, life story**