Tiny Feet

I must have been hit with a virus or something on Wednesday. Last night, Thursday, I could barely speak at Lujan, a church we helped to plant in 1989. I made it through, but with difficulty. Even Felipe did his thing. I was particularly touched by a mother and young son that prayed together.

(photo) After a blessed time of prayer I could hardly speak and that with a lot of pain in my severely swollen throat. The little kids gathered around to pray for me so I knelt down. There was something special about this hallowed moment. I looked down at the circle of tiny feet and felt their little hands on my shoulders and arms and even messing up my hair. Little kids can learn to pray. And the God I know listens to kids.

Their faith has not yet been seared by doubt. Their confidence in the living God has not yet been tainted by all the atheistic and agnostic influences that surround our 21st-century culture. They prayed … and they were not in a hurry. They didn’t stop till they were through. Then I was hugged to pieces by little arms.

Tonight I will be in Villa Urquiza at the Catedral de Vida (Cathedral of Life) with Pastors Gustavo and Graciela Calardo. Gustavo is another one of the boys that were saved while we were preaching in a city park in La Boca (Ghetto Church). He now has served as National Secretary of the Assemblies of God here for more almost two decades I think, while continuing to pastor this church.

My throat feels better, but my voice is pretty much not there. I’m not canceling any of my five remaining services this weekend. I’m counting on God answering the prayers of those little people with the tiny feet.

Pastors Walter and Rebecca Diaz and family

Ralph