Today, I helped Debra learn to walk.
Debra is a special needs orphan at the Cambodian Hope Association here in Phnom Penh, you can check out my squad-mate’s blog about her here for specifics about how she came to the orphanage, and even if you feel led to donate equipment, or considering an adoption, here
As I arrived at the brightly painted gate, I walked up to the orphanage and I went inside. My eyes scanned the inside of the building for her: Debra. There she was on her straw mat, lying on her tummy like usual, as the other kids played around her. I called her name and she rolled over on her side and smiled at me; it melted my heart, and was the best invitation she could muster for me to pick her up—so I did without any hesitation. She’s captured a few of the L Squad girl’s hearts this month (especially Meg's
), and she’s surely captured mine as well.
Today, God used Debra in a special way to teach me something: walking with the Lord.
Practically the whole day at the orphanage was spent holding her close, singing, doting on and talking to her. At one point, I had her sitting up against me and started moving her legs in a circular motion—like she was on an invisible bicycle. A teammate began talking about a wheelchair invention to strengthen crippled legs, when the thought came into my head: why not strengthen her legs by just actually helping her walk?
So I stood up, and held Debra with both feet on the ground, standing. (Solely by the strength of my arms holding every last pound of her frail body) I praised and encouraged on this tiny and beautiful daughter of Jesus to take one pitiful step after the other. Her feet were inverted and weak, but she kept on one foot at a time. She knew what she had to do; she was just incapable on her own.
If it weren’t for my arms holding her up, it would’ve been literally impossible for her to stand. But with every step, no matter how meager, she took it forward faithfully. Even the times when she couldn’t move her foot forward I poured down my love for her with affectionate words.
In that moment, my heart was so full with complete and utter adoration for Debra—I thought I was going to burst.
It was probably 150,000 degrees in that church, but I let the sweat pour. After we walked around, I gave her a break and held her close in my arms, congratulating her on what a great job she did. As she clung to me, I took note of her awful smell and how I’m absolutely sure that the shirt I was wearing will never smell the same again. Yet, despite all of that, I didn’t care how smelly or sweaty I was in that moment; she was worth it all—and I’ll probably do it all over again tomorrow and days after that until we leave Cambodia.
That’s when it hit me. (Thanks Lord)
In this life: we’re all Debra.
We’re pathetic children, born into a world that hates us and left us as crippled sinners because of our old “father”, Adam. We lay hopelessly on our bellies, dreaming of a day when we can jump, skip, run, and play—or even worse: sitting in a distorted reality contently saying “well, this is all there is and all I can do; I’m ok with this."
The point being: we can never stand on our own. It is by our Heavenly Father alone, the chief cornerstone and foundational solid rock, the only way we even come close to standing. He picks us up out of our filth, off our bellies, and puts us on our feet. He says “You can walk now—because you’re doing it through Me.” He holds us gently and patiently, encouraging us to take one step after another, no matter how small or large. In doing so, he is leading us through incredible journeys with Himself. We begin to discover new things about the world. Our legs begin to strengthen in the course of time. And the crazy thing is since the beginning of time, it’s been His utmost desire to walk with us, among us, next to us, holding our hands and leading us on into a great adventure with Him.
Why? Why on earth would He chose nasty, smelly, crippled babies to be rescued out of lying in our own graves, and teach us how to walk? Why would he choose us, the least of all who deserve His perfect attention—let alone perfect affection?
For His glory, and our inconceivable joy.
It is for His glory that He invites us to walk with Him in this life, and for our inconceivable joy we will have when we do so—which in turn, just goes back and gives Him even MORE glory.
