With each step down that small hill, my heartbeat seemed to vibrate more strongly within me. Though I had a jacket on, my palms were sweaty and my armpits damp. 

“I hate this, Lord,” I murmured as my legs propelled me forward and my mind battled the temptation of turning and running. For days, no, more like weeks, God had been nudging me. He had kept at it, like a father attempting to urge his timid child to go outside. 

“Go,” He whispered to my spirit.

“No,” I had responded in mine. 

“If you love Me, you will keep my commands,” His prompting, John 14:15, louder. 

“Haven’t I obeyed, Lord?” I countered. “Look Father, I’m here, aren’t I? I said yes to this whole global worker thing, even when I knew how hard it would be. Remember, I have lived this life before.”

“Just go,” He whispered again. “If anyone loves Me, he will keep my word…” This time, John 14:23.

“I do love you,” I said, but the hollowness of my words echoed within the loneliness of my heart.

“O.K. Lord, I’ll do it,” I cried as my will melted. Immediately my steps had more purpose, but the whooshing of my heartbeat continued. “Please Father, I need your help.”

I walked slowly up to a fenced gate.

“Sylvia,” I called meekly. I stood and waited. I didn’t know much about that culture, but I did know entering her courtyard without an invite would be like someone barging into my front door without a knock.

“Sylvia,” I voiced again, this time with greater projection. A wagon, which moved slowly down the road beside me, caught my attention. Three children stared at me as they rode in the back astride burlap bags. I waved slightly and the littlest one smiled.

I turned back to the gate with the hope that she wasn’t home, but my reprieve was short lived. A door slammed. There was Sylvia. We both smiled, but I wondered if her palms were sweaty, too.

I see now that despite my reluctance, anxiety, and stubbornness, God knew this first visit with Sylvia would be the start of a relationship that would soften the edges of my loneliness. He knew the weeks and months of my weekly obedience would turn our awkward and stilted conversations (the result of my shaky language skills) into a bridge that would bind our hearts and bring us closer to Him. He knew the road I had needed to find His peace, and in this case, the road that led to deep friendship.