Amanda Jolley

Studio Joy

I know her. I am available.

Since our family began serving lunch at VERONICA’s Voice, I have met so many women. Each week the Lord has given me a Bible verse to set at each place setting. On the flip side, I write their names. I am continually astounded at the stories about how the verses are applying to specific situations in some of these women’s lives. It is confirmation that the verses are from God. But even more important than that is the fact that I am learning the names to go with the faces by writing them each week. I can picture their faces and know their names when I pray.

The women that come for lunch are at varying stages in release from the bondage of drugs and prostitution. Some have been liberated for many years and come each week to encourage the others. Some have been free for a shorter time and are still learning how to live a life outside of what they knew. Some are still on and off the streets, still in bondage.

There is a street close to my house that isn’t so lovely, although I am seeing signs of revival. There is a street parallel a few blocks the other way that is thriving with businesses, people. It is easier on the eyes to drive, but God has me taking the ugly street. It is becoming more beautiful to me each drive. There are girls working on this street almost all the time. God has me drive it so I can pray for them.

What is becoming hard is when I see a face I know, a name I know. Tonight on the way home from my relaxing Pilates class at the YMCA, I saw a girl I knew. I took the kids home and went back to pray with her, but she was no longer there. I really felt drawn by the Holy Spirit to go back to her, so I was surprised when she was gone. So I prayed so specifically for her safety, for a triumph over the battle of her flesh, and that she would still be there on Friday for lunch so that she can be ministered to there.

As I drove home, God gave me such a reassurance that the drive was not in vain. He told me He was preparing me. He also told me that I was not going into dormancy, but that He was making me available; available and accessible to my family, and to Him so He can direct me to pull over at anytime and boldly pray over this women on the streets.

I haven’t been painting much lately. I had been too busy. But I am reminded of the vision for a page that God gave me last October right before He brought me to VERONICA’s Voice. The verse He gave me that inspired the vision was:

Isaiah 6:5-8 Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts. (6) Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar: (7) And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged. (8) Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.

I need to finish that page now.

amanda ∞

0 Comments on “I know her. I am available.”

  1. You have such a sweet and amazing heart! May God bless you and use you to the fullest for his glory! I will pray for the lady on the street! I will pray for you also to be used by the Lord as he sees fit that his perfect will be done in your life!

  2. Amanda,

    Thank you for doing what you do.

    As I have been blessed by adoption, I have felt led to aide in correcting the cause of displaced children. The needs are so great; there will never be enough adoptive families to provide homes for the children living in foster care and orphanages throughout the world. I confess, it has been easier for me to feel empathy and a desire to help the parents in Haiti who cannot raise their children because of poverty than feel for my daughter’s birth mom who lost custody because of alcohol and drug abuse.

    Biblical theism assures me that all humans, no matter what, are so worthy that Jesus died for them. Are worth comes from the fact that we are image-bearers and is; therefore, not tied to what we do. My brain knows that I was considerably blessed by being raised in a stable loving home. Marissa’s mom was not. Her home was ravaged by alcohol, mental illness, violence and divorce. She was on the streets by the time she was 14. But there is that little part of me that gets annoyed when she comes and goes from Marissa’s life, that thinks she should “just make a better choice.” I have to remind myself over and over that it isn’t about making better choices; it is about changing your heart. I have to remind myself to pray. It is exasperating to have such a constant reminder of the pride and wickedness that is in my own heart.

    Reading your blog is so very convicting ~ I am so glad the Lord blessed you with a heart of compassion.

  3. Pingback: What a story! « Hidden Art

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