An Empty Booth

The other night, I had a booth at the Rock. As much as I just wanted to “be” there for others, I was still short on rent and needed to sell some flags.

Right off the bat, a young woman stopped by the booth, entranced by the beauty of the flags. As I told her about them and about my testimony, she filled with joy!

She said, “No way! I’ve never heard anyone be so open like that. I used to be trafficked. No one’s ever said that! I’m just blown away right now! That just made my day! Thank you!” And I believe THAT is why I was supposed to be there, but still, I had hours left and flags to sell, so I was ready for the night (or so I thought).

One can only take so much of people stopping by, hearing about the flags, then walking away. Well, for me, it tends to take its toll. The booth next to me was always busy. They were selling oils and stuff. Actually, all the booths seemed busy, except for mine.

After a couple hours, there was worship and a message. The message was about following your dream, stepping into your calling, etc. I kept thinking, “I am, but it’s not working,” but you know…thoughts.

Anyway, after the message, I was back at the booth. The booth next to mine was even MORE busy; they started taking over some of “my” table, even laying their necklaces on my flags, as they made transactions. Right then, I started to lose it.

“Oh, no; not now” were my first thoughts. “Crying…at your booth…come on” were some others.

As I attempted to hold it together, a young lady I’d met before walked up and said hi. That’s all it took. Everything I’d been trying to hold back, everything I’d been trying to hold in came out in tears.

Immediately, she came behind the booth and offered to stay with me. Talk about a blessing!

As I shared my heart, she shared hers. She’d been battling depression. We listened to each other and laughed, and while we were talking, the woman who’d stopped by earlier, the one who’d been trafficked for years, stopped by again.

As she was talking with us, she mentioned the cold walk to the trolley. I asked where she lived and if she’d like a ride home. She was so happy for the offer, so after a bit, I packed everything up.

No, the event wasn’t over, but really, no one was interested in buying flags. They were there to spend money but not on flags.

On the car ride to her home, my new friend shared about her life then and now. I was able to speak life and hope into her. As discouraging as the absence of sales were, the ministry time was ten times as encouraging!

There’s so much more to “Flames of Glory” than just flags. I know I’m on the right road. I’m just not sure how to travel it.

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