By Becky Pius, RN
Some days in village ministry begin slowly… and sometimes that’s exactly what God intends.
During our mobile clinic last Monday, the morning hours passed quietly at first. Then a middle-aged woman arrived on her bicycle, exhausted, perspiring, and clearly carrying far more than physical fatigue. As I welcomed her in, the woman began to describe the symptoms that had overtaken her life—loss of appetite, headaches, stomach pain, body aches. Stress can do that. But what she shared next revealed a much deeper story.
Earlier this year, her mother died in a tragic accident. Only two months later, her husband’s grandmother passed away. And then—far beyond what any parent should ever endure—her son was murdered.
Three devastating losses in a matter of months. No wonder her body was crying out for relief.
I gently listened and then invited our ministry partner, Julio, to join us. As he sat beside her, he reminded her of something simple yet so easy to forget when the world falls apart: God does not cause our suffering, but He never leaves us alone in it. He shared pieces of his own testimony—years of trauma, pain, and anger that once held him captive, and how, little by little, God helped him forgive and walk in freedom again.
Julio lovingly encouraged her to release her pain, her anger, even her questions about God—to place them in His hands and let Him begin the healing work only He can do. He reminded her that her emotional wounds would also affect the children she still has with her, and that her strength would help guide them through their own grief.
Together, we prayed. A sacred pause. A moment of hope.
Afterward, I provided medication and calming herbal tea to help ease her symptoms. But more importantly, she walked away knowing she wasn’t alone—that there is a God who sees her, a community ready to stand with her, and a path toward healing that begins one brave step at a time.
These are the moments that remind us why we go. Healing bodies is important—but healing hearts is holy work.
