Before I met Pika, I heard stories from my housemates about having the rude, bratty, 17-year-old as a student. Now it was my turn, and I was both nervous and curious. It wasn’t easy to be patient with her sullen temperament, flippant attitude, and uncooperative petulance. Yet she challenged me to find humor, project optimism and push through her smokescreens.

Somewhere, at some point, she let me in. I attribute it mostly to the long list of volunteer teachers before me who worked to befriend her. Perhaps it helped that at one point she was the only student I had in the afternoon. This was a two-edged sword when she was bratty, but I prefer to remember when I nearly broke the air conditioner, and we laughed hysterically together with eyes streaming. Or the day after her favorite teacher, Alice, went back to the States, and Pika stood looking wistfully out the window, not wanting to show how much she cared. That class ended with my arms around her as she cried. Behind all the resistance, stubbornness and rudeness was a tender heart desperately struggling to believe she was loved.

By God’s grace, Pika and I went from teacher and student, to friends, to sisters. She became more willing to believe the love the teachers had for her, and she loved us in return.

This July, she was rushed to the hospital with an asthma attack. She told me later how she fell unconscious and couldn’t hear anything, but she could see something white, and the last word she said before she thought she was going to die was, “God.” Suddenly, after she called on God, she could hear the doctors trying to wake her up.

“If I die, can I go and stay with God?” she asked me.

“How can you go to God if you don’t know the way?” I countered.

“That is why I’m asking you.”

“In the Bible, Jesus says, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’ To know the way to God, you have to learn more about Jesus.”

For years we all had been working on Pika to pray and attend Bible studies, and she did so sporadically. But after her asthma incident, she started Bible studies again.

A few weeks later, Pika was rushed to the hospital once again. This time, she didn’t wake up.

The shocking news shattered our hearts, teachers and friends alike. Why Pika? In that small unreached country, immersed in a godless culture, the odds were stacked against her knowing Jesus. Though it felt senseless, God gave us hope.

Days before her family performed the funeral ceremony, we learned that Pika loved to read her Bible. There was a bookmark in 1 Corinthians 13. Though her path was cut short, I believe she was moving toward Christ. He was everything she was looking for.
We praise God that Pika’s path intersected ours, and that we were able to tell her about Jesus so she could find a Friend in Him. God knew this couldn’t be accomplished with just a two-week mission trip, so He sent a series of teachers with years of combined influence to break through the walls around Pika’s heart, until she could finally believe she was loved.

There are billions going toward Christless graves, and the odds are stacked against them ever knowing about Jesus, let alone allowing His love to penetrate their darkness and bring them into His marvelous light. But we can help change those odds and give people like Pika a fair chance. It takes a long-term commitment. I’m willing. Will you help me?

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