Who is she? I’ve been seeing her on this street on my way to Church for the last month. I think she has always been there, but I didn’t notice her before. She has such a sad countenance; she is scantily clothed and the clothes she is wearing is kind of dirty looking. Why do I feel so broken when I see her? Why do I feel such a compassion for her? Not just for her, but for the hundreds of women she represents in this country. Women who have lost their self esteem through whichever horrible tragedy the devil chooses to use. I’ve been praying for her: “Lord you know who she is, save her, send deliverance, set her free, make her into a powerful woman of God.”
I’m running late for Church, I feel bad driving by all these people on the street knowing that I have what they need. There she is! That’s it I’m pulling over.
“Excuse me!” I said as I run to catch up with her.
“How are you? I’ve been praying for you.”
She gives me a surprise look as if to say I don’t know you. “God has laid you on my heart,” I continued, “and I’ve been praying for you. I would like to offer you this track and invite you to come to Church with me.” She finally understands and starts to laugh. But wait, she’s crying too.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Donna,” she said kind of choked-up. I shook her hand firmly and introduced myself.
“Thank you,” she said touching my arm lightly, “I need this.”
Let us pray for Donna, I think she might be a prostitute. I just saw her again on my way home from Church today. She was standing on the street corner in the rain. God help her. We will follow up with her, if you help us pray, I’m sure God will do a great work in her life.
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