I shiver underneath the winter clothes that I am wearing here in May. Is it the cold or is it the view that makes me shutter, I am not sure. “I see one! I see a North Korean farmer Mom!” he takes his binoculars down for a few seconds to make eye contact with me and motion me over.
He is the only one of the 3 kids patient enough or determined enough to endure the frigid wind and cold. “Hurry Mom! We’ve got to pray for them!” We came on this trip to a border city to scout out the ministry possibilities here and to pray as much for North Korea and her people as we possibly could during a 3 day trip. Yesterday we spent time with dear children and as a family debriefed and prayed for each of them by face and by names that we could remember and today we are standing on the edge of a river that divides these two countries. We are standing next to the line of demarcation. I mean I could reach out and touch it, we are that close and on the other side of the river we can see farmers planting their fields. Fields that may or may not produce much food and the food they produce will not be enough to feed the hungry mouths of those who are in need. . . but we stand here, Hudson and I, and we pray for these farmers he can see. We pray their labor would not be in vain. We pray God’s provision and blessing on their crops. We pray their harvest would be plentiful and fruitful. We pray they would know hunger and starvation no more. We pray food for their souls and not just for their bellies. We pray for those that are desperate today to be provided for. We pray for miraculous answers to their needs and prayers. We pray for God to be glorified in this field, in their homes, and in their lives. We pray a million other things for these dear souls working in their fields on this bitter cold May day and then we stand here together, him in front with his binoculars and me behind him with my camera. I pull him a little bit closer and together we look out at the view.