I had breakfast with a friend this morning as we planned out our part of a retreat we are doing with our jail ministry on Saturday. She shared this story:
They were on a mission trip to Sudan. Before crossing the border from Uganda, they spent the night in Arua, on the border, a small city of about 60,000 people.
One gentleman on the trip had a bit of a special hope. He had been a refugee from Sudan, had been separated from his mother during the war, and had not seen her in many years. He had requested a bit of time while they were in Arua to see if he could find out information on his mother and where she might be. The trip leader, understandably hesitant to have the group split up, said, you can have three hours in the afternoon.
When the group arrived in Arua, the hotel had given their rooms away to another organization that was having a conference. So they had to find another place to spend the night.
The search for another place to stay ate up any time the man would have had to search for his mother.
Finally, a hotel was located with enough rooms for everyone, and they drove over to that part of town.
Can you imagine how that poor man must have felt, his one chance to find out what happened to his mom leached away by a stupid mistake?
As they pulled into the hotel parking lot... there she was... his mom, just standing there.
Let that sink in. His mom. Standing there. She could have been anywhere in that entire part of the world. Standing right there.
I can only imagine what that reunion looked like -neither person expecting to see the other person, having given up hope - then BAM, a miracle. A pure miracle.
Yup.
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