We had the most delicious dinner of my entire summer, with lively conversation about politics in the country. After dessert and coffee, my unusual night came to a close as Mable and Shady accompanied me to my home with their driver.
I learned a few days later that after dropping me off at my home that night, Mable lost her baby. When she told me this in a flat, emotionless voice, she stretched out her fingers and said, “My child was about two inches long.”
She started to tear up, finally feeling some emotion, but quickly pushed it away. She couldn’t talk about it. She tried to change the subject by mentioning that she wanted to have me over again before I left the country. She wanted me to come over on Saturday night.
I wrestled with whether it was wise to go to her place again, alone. If her husband wasn’t home, and I was alone with her, would she try to come on to me? Would I be safe if her driver picked me up and dropped me off at my home alone?
My co-leader, Jon, and I talked it over. We took time to pray about it. Both of us agreed that I might be setting myself up for an uncomfortable situation if Mable did make any advances. Yet it seemed to be worth the risk if it was my only opportunity to share the gospel with her before I left.
