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Jessie wanted nothing to do with religion. How could I share Jesus' love with her?

Jesus Talk

Amanda Krehbiel

I LUGGED MY overstuffed suitcase toward the rundown building my home for the next week. Why did I decide to waste a week of my summer on this worthless mission trip? I thought as I trudged away from the dusty bus.

On the way to Holbrook Indian Mission School in Holbrook, Arizona, we had experienced the usual mission trip problems: bus breakdowns and million-mile detours. I already felt discouraged, and I'd just arrived. The last thing I felt like doing right now was impacting lives for Jesus.

The hot desert wind burned my lips as I walked from my room to the camp registration building. Brown eyes shining with curiosity peered at me as I passed.

The excitement in the children's smiles melted my discouragement, and I began to look forward to my position as a teen counselor for the week. I searched the bustling registration room for my group of girls.

But no eyes full of anticipation greeted me. I finally spotted three brooding faces glaring out from a secluded corner. The daggers coming from their eyes instantly slashed my visions of enticing their needy hearts toward God.

Painfully the realization struck: these girls didn't want to see me, nor did they care about God. I choked down my fear and faced my challenge.

"Hi, girls. I'll be your camp counselor this week. My name is"

"You need to understand one thing about us from the beginning," Jessie, the leader of the girls, began. "We don't believe in your God or anyone else's. We want no part of your Jesus talk." Jessie’s voice dripped with Navajo accent, and her black clothing reeked of cigarette smoke.

The next few days the three girls Jessie, Daphne, and Gina kept their distance. Every attempt I made to include them in camp activities, especially religious ones, seemed only to broaden the ocean between us.

My contact with the girls continued dwindling every day. I dreaded each night, when I had to check them into the dormitory. But despite their rebellious attitudes, Jessie and her gang always came in safely and on time. And thankfully, the full days packed with sports, activities, and classes wore the campers out and created a quiet peace each evening.

That is, until Friday evening.

I had retreated to my room to prepare for the next day's Sabbath program. Suddenly a loud crash startled me. Quickly I plowed my way through pajama-clad girls toward the commotion down the hall.

As I flung open the door to Jessie, Daphne, and Gina's room, a choking cloud of cigarette smoke engulfed me. Broken furniture and empty beer bottles cluttered the bedroom floor. I stared in disbelief.

As suddenly as the volcano of noise had erupted, a vacuum of silence replaced it. The drunken cackles coming from the three guilty girls faded. Jessie, Daphne, and Gina stared in horror at the blank expression on my face.

I grabbed Jessie's arm and escorted her out of the room while two other counselors took charge of Daphne and Gina. As we marched down the hall, I spiraled a hundred silent prayers toward heaven.

Dear God, please give me the right words to reach this girl’s heart for You, I prayed.

Anger and betrayal burned in Jessie's black eyes as she and I sat on the crumbling steps of the dormitory. I groped for something anything to say.

"Jessie, why did you do it?" I asked, using the only words I could find.

A dam of emotion in her tormented soul burst, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "It's the only way I know to forget what's happened to me. Alcohol hides the fact that I hate my life and I'm tired of living it."

Jessie continued telling me about an abusive home life, an alcoholic father, and a drug-addict brother. She said that she'd run away from home countless times, and her last escape had led her to our camp.

As I listened, I couldn't believe that I'd never looked past the anger in her eyes to find the pain that caused it.

That night God answered my prayers and gave me the words I needed for Jessie. I shared with her the promise of God’s love and forgiveness.

Her face filled with wonder at the realization that Someone loved her unconditionally. Her hungry soul eagerly swallowed the knowledge of Jesus and the salvation He offers.

As our talk drew to a close, I hugged her, noticing newfound peace and tears sparkling in her eyes. Then we lifted our eyes toward heaven and asked Jesus into our hearts. Moments later a star fell from its place in the universe.

"I believe in your God," Jessie said, "and now He's mine, too."

Amanda Krehbiel recently graduated from Union College in Lincoln, Nebraska. This story won third prize in the General Prose category of our 1997 writing contest.