Frantically looking everywhere, it was no where to be found. I even asked for the Holy Spirt’s help in locating it. My mind was racing! Who would discover it, and who would soon know the depths of my soul and the intimate cries of my heart?! Although I had complete confidence it would turn up, I was still anxious about all of me being exposed.
When I journal, it’s raw and it’s real. Why not be transparent with the Lover of my soul? He already knows all of me and nothing about my life is off limits to Him. All of my thoughts and days lay bare before Him.
For a short while I gave up the search and resumed life. After all, I had my name and number written on the inside. A few days later an unknown call came in, and I found myself saying “Hello” which is rare because I never answer “those people.” The Holy Spirit had prompted me for sure.
On the other end was a woman calling to say that she’d found my journal. We agreed to meet within the next hour and I was over the moon excited. As she was approaching my gray Honda, I could tell by her hijab that she was of muslim background. She kind of smiled and then bowed her head slightly. When she handed it to me she admitted that she had read it.
Before I could respond, she caught me by surprise and with tears quietly streaming down her face said, “Please, tell me about your Jesus.“
I too began to cry because I had prayed to the Lord to send me a Muslim friend.
Of all of my journals, this one meant the most to me. It had “Beloved” written across the front, and that was a foreign “word” to her. We shared a meal and spent three beautiful hours talking about this precious “good news” and how she too could be His “Beloved.”
