Jamila and I met near the first day of school last year. She and her friend group were some of the core attendees when Giaudrone Campus Life kicked off.  Most of her friend group has moved away since last year, but she’s stuck around. 

She’s always been a mix of bubbly, quirky, and reserved. Some days she wants to talk my ear off, others she couldn’t want less to do with me.  She sometimes has trouble getting to class after lunch, so we’ve developed a bit of a routine in which I walk her to class as we chat after lunch.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed she was just meandering upstairs outside the hallway. I walked up to her and first attempted to get her to go to class, but it quickly became apparent that class was not the priority. She needed to talk. As we talked about why she didn’t want to go to class, it led to talking about her home life — how she didn’t feel safe or appreciated, and how she felt so alone, like no one cared about her. 

I told her, “You know I care about you, and I think Jesus does too.”  She rolled her eyes, and said exasperatedly, “I know.” I asked her if she prayed often, and she said she didn’t have time or space where she was alone. We began to talk through her days and suggest times when she could pray. I showed her my prayer journal and offered her a journal so she could try writing her prayers too, which she quickly got excited about. I offered to pray for her then. She agreed, and we stood there, praying in the hallway. We prayed for protection, for peace, for confidence, and for her to feel the God of love wrapping her in a big hug. 

When we finished praying, she began to asking questions: 

Does God hear me if I pray in the shower? Yup! 

Does God hear me if I pray while brushing my teeth? Of course!  

Did God hear us just now? Definitely.  

Did God hear our whole conversation? Yeah, I think he did. 

Oh, okay. That’s cool. 

We finished talking as we walked to her next class, bargaining a prayer journal in exchange for staying in class for the rest of the day. The following week, she ran up to me in excitement clutching her journal, “Lindsey, guess what?! I’ve already started! I have some prayers AND some poems! I’ll show them to you later!”

Jamila started the day believing she was alone and that no one cared about her. By the afternoon she’d connected with a leader who loves her and a God who hears her prayers. 

Her story reminds me of Mark 10:14-16.  In short, the beautiful simplicity of her questions reflects the utter simplicity of the gospel itself — good news that I often make too complicated:

“‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.’  And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.”