Monday, January 04, 2016

HOW DARE I COMPLAIN? -- by Guest Wendy Chorot

My guest today is author Wendy Chorot, who also happens to be one of my editors at WhiteFire Publishing. Wendy is doing a giveaway of her new children's book The Windkeeper. To enter the draw, leave a comment below, spell out your email address, and share this blog on social media. I'll draw the winning name on the Sunday following this blog post.


France has an abundance of Roma people living on the streets of their cities. Most of these Roma come from Romania, but many also come from Bulgaria and other surrounding countries. While living in France, I participated in programs that helped the Roma people. My church sponsored one family and through our sponsorship, they received housing and a few government benefits like free transportation on trams and buses.

The pastor of my church there has kept me updated on the Roma situation during the 2 years since I’ve been back in the Midwest. I received an email from him in January with photos of a church erected out of pallets and nestled within one of the larger shantytowns in the city where I lived. What a tremendous praise! 

Oh how my heart longed to be there, worshiping with my Roma brothers and sisters.

Well… I returned to France this past summer and worshiped with these precious men and women. Hallelujah! Children ran around naked; I was on my knees more than I was on my feet. My friend who went with me received a special prayer. And she and I even got talked into singing “Amazing Grace” in English. Sweat ran down our faces like rain down a window. 

THREE hours we worshiped in that sweltering church made of pallets. 

Three hours we prayed and sang, embraced and encouraged. 

Three hours my ears soaked in God’s Word in several languages. 

There was no place on earth I would have rather been at that moment. Who am I to be so privileged to worship with these homeless people who have so much to complain about, yet never did? I was so humbled, and I let the tears mingle with the sweat and roll off my face.

I knew before going this summer that the French government planned to dismantle this shantytown—including their church. And I begged God not to let them destroy this holy place.

Since returning 2 months ago, the government has carried out their plans, and my Roma brothers and sisters have lost their church. God has sweetly reminded me that it was but a building—His church is and forever will be His people, and that can never be destroyed.

I have heard rumors that a local church body plans to open their doors to their Roma brothers and sisters to hold services on opposite days. My heart rejoices that they will have a warm place during the winter and a cooler place in the summer to worship. I am forever grateful for God’s people who saw a need, an injustice, and responded. And even more grateful that I witnessed with my own eyes and ears an unwavering faith in the most destitute of situations. May this prompt my heart when I am tempted to complain.

While THE WINDKEEPER is fictional, God’s purpose for each of us is very real. Turn the pages and discover Wendall Windkeeper’s purpose as he trains the four winds of heaven for their role in fulfilling God’s greatest rescue mission-the birth of His Son.


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