Yet, in the midst of this war, God, a compassionate and loving Father, saw one little girl and heard the prayers of one mother crying out for the war going on in her child. My logic and my drive would have caused me to miss setting free this one little girl, a girl held captive by the tragic birth defect that was quite literally slowly killing her while keeping her in a prison of rejection as an outcast in her village. Her inability to retain proper nutrition in her early years was now compounded by several factors: the deadly drought, no friends, forbidden to attend school, and abandoned by her dad, who saw her situation as a curse on the family.

I was not the first to see Victorina. Others had come to this place in the past and even promised they would come back to help her. They told her mother and her she could actually have a surgery that would fix her situation, but, year after year, they never came back. It would be easy to become judgmental about that, but remember, all the people helping in this region are in a war on hunger and this precious little girl is one of thousands.

As we camped in Victorina’s village, my daughter, Ashton, would sit at night with the children around the fire and learn parts of their language while teaching them parts of ours. Victorina would stand off in the shadows, with her face hidden by darkness or a piece of cloth she could hold up to prevent us from seeing her face.

On the last night, Victorina came closer to the group, sitting at the back of the crowd with her shirt collar pulled up to cover the bottom half of her face. When it was time for bed, Ashton rose from the crowd and approached Victorina, placed her hands on Victorina’s face and whispered to her, “YOU ARE Beautiful. You are so beautiful.” Victorina ran away crying. Ashton, completely shocked, went to our tent and spent most of the night crying.

I tried to console my daughter and explain why so many people in these situations cannot receive our love and words of encouragement, again relying on my reason and logic. Ashton, with tears running down her face, finally said to me, “Dad, LIFE Outreach provides for cleft surgeries. Isn’t there anything you can do for Victorina?”

As I looked at her, all the logic and reason of why we don’t do cleft repairs in Angola – Victorina being too old, among dozens of other reasons running through my mind – fled away. God opened my eyes when my daughter cried for Victorina. He has taught me so many lessons from this about the power of compassion and the power of tears we cry for the hurting. When my daughter asked me for the impossible, with no self-seeking motives, it moved me to do WHATEVER IT TOOK, in the same way that God’s heart is moved when we cry out to Him. The Kingdom of God shakes the earth, and miracles happen.

Victorina, once a prisoner to her birth defect, is now free; not just alive, she is thriving. She is considered by the village as one who is blessed, has tons of friends, attends school, and will one day marry. When I return to her village now, she runs to greet us with hugs and laughter, eager to show us her school and her friends. She is free!

When we came to pick up Victorina and her family to take them to the hospital where she would spend three months just becoming healthy enough to have the surgery, her mother said to me, “I never believed you would come back.” I smiled and hugged her. Then I said, “Jesus always comes back – if not through me, then someone else. But Jesus always comes back.”

As I close, Victorina reminds me to see the one, no matter the war that rages around me. SEE the one. Can you see the one? Can you help us find the one in prison and set them free?

This year through our Christmas Shoes and Smiles ministry, we will see her or him. We will go back in Jesus’ name and watch God work His miracles by giving these children a new smile and a brand-new life.