It was Tuesday, market day in a nearby village, and my friend Keni and I were only halfway there when a sudden down-pouring of rain interrupted our walk. “Which way should we go?” I asked. “Back home, or to the market?”

“Let’s go back home,” Keni replied. So we scrambled back up the muddy hill to a house in our village and sat down on the porch to wait out the storm.

As we huddled together and rain drummed on the metal roof over us, Keni began to talk. “Yesterday I fought with my husband. He stole my money and my house-key and went and gambled all day. He wouldn’t give the key back, so the children and I couldn’t eat all day. When he came back home late, I yelled at him. I was so angry. I grabbed my knife and ran far into the jungle. I held the knife to my throat. I wanted to kill myself. I didn’t want to think about God, but He came into my head anyway, so I began to pray. As I prayed, I saw an angel who looked like you. I knew that you and God didn’t want me to hurt myself, so I put the knife down and kept praying.”

As I looked into her eyes, I could still see anger and frustration burning there. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight and began to pray with her. Later, I told her how special she is to God and how much He loves her. I also told her that He has a wonderful plan for her life, a plan just for her.

A few days later, our conversation came up again. I asked her what she thought God’s plan was for her life. She replied, “I know now. I must tell the Good News. I have people all around me who don’t yet know.” As she said this, her face filled with joy—such a difference from the anger I had seen there before. “But,” she continued, “I can’t read. And to be able to tell the Good News, I have to be able to read my Bible.”

A previous student missionary and I have spent many hours trying to help Keni learn to read, but we haven’t had much success. As I thought about this, a story I had heard only a few days before came rushing into my mind. It was about a Chinese man who desperately wanted to be able to read so he could preach the Gospel. However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t learn. Night after night, he prayed earnestly for God to bless him with the ability to read. One night, the Spirit told him to read his Bible. He picked it up and began to read.

I shared this story with Keni, and she eagerly asked me if I thought God would help her, too. I suggested we pray. What prayer would God be more overjoyed to answer than that of a woman earnestly seeking to glorify Him with her life? So we are praying that God will bless Keni with the ability to read her precious Bible. Please join me in praying that this special woman will be enabled to read and effectively serve Him by bringing the Good News to her people.

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