There are some women I know. Well, technically speaking, we’ve never met. More than likely, we won’t find ourselves face-to-face this side of heaven.
But they are my sisters, and with my mind’s eye, because of the stories passed to me from one who has met them, I can see them clearly.
Their village is gray and concrete. In the air lingers the stench of burning garbage. There can’t possibly be any life here.
Or can there?
When the women appear, the contrast of the vibrant colors of their clothing against their dull surroundings is breathtaking. But even the bold colors and lively patterns are no match for the glorious light radiating from their joyful faces.
These women, they have seen Jesus. They know Him, and because of that we are adopted siblings in the same family. We are sisters.
Sometimes I don’t write when I know that I should. I don’t speak up. I’m afraid I might not say it all quite right, afraid of what people might think when they read it. What if I’m too bold, too wild, too reckless in my profession that Christ has saved me and redeemed my life?
These women, the Shama Women, don’t write not because they are worried about what others think. They can’t share their stories with you themselves because it could jeopardize the safety of their children, their families. I have a family and children, too, but I live in a country where my freedoms as a woman and as a Christ-follower are protected. So what’s holding me back? What’s holding you back?
God has done miracles within the walls of this gray village, where what once was lost has now been found. My sisters in South Asia, they are not free to use their own voices to tell you about it.
But I am.
So I’m going to use my voice—boldly, wildly, recklessly—to share their stories and tell you how Christ has set them free.
I pray these stories open all of our eyes to the reality of life halfway around the globe, in a place very different from our own. I pray we will look with fresh eyes at what we’ve been given and learn to live generously. And I pray we will discover that no matter our circumstances, we too can live in freedom.
Rebekah Crosby is a wife, mom, and grammar enthusiast with a passion for storytelling. You can find her at writetheroughdraft.com.