Warning: This is a raw blog…but it’s me.
When you come on a mission trip, especially one like this, you expect to meet people who you can pour into. And as much as that has happened this year, sometimes, you come across those who just want to pour out into you.
This month, we’re with a family who has devoted themselves, in a very big way, to pouring into us.
We’ve been on the field for 10 months now…1 more to go after this month…we’ve seen devastation. We’ve witnessed injustices. Our hearts have been broken with others as theirs have broken. Our hearts have jumped in joy with those who celebrate. I’ve seen the best of this world…I’ve seen the worst of this world. I’ve experienced ill health, pain, home sickness, joy, excitement and utter joy. You name the emotion…I’ve probably had it over the last 10 months.
I’ve been stuck in hospitals with malaria and possible kidney failure. I’ve sat in people’s houses as they’ve accepted Christ as their savior and cried tears of jubilation and excitement with them. I’ve seen little girls walk down prostitution streets with grown men, preached to crowds of hundreds, danced with whole high schools and prayed for, and seen, blind people see.
It breaks you down.
Down to your foundation.
At this point in the trip, we’re all tired. I’m beginning to really think about how things will be back in the states and I’m starting the re-entry process by going through different steps to readjust to how things will be when my plane lands in NYC in less than 2 months.
In one way, I feel as if my gauge is reading “Empty.” In another way, I feel like I still have so much to offer.
The truth is that I know I’m running low on energy.
This morning was difficult. I hit my “empty” mark. I got an email that took my breath away and took the last little bit out of my tank. I lay in my bed and let all of the emotion out. I didn’t care anymore who was watching or what they were thinking. It’s been easy just to hold it in and act strong. But I let it out. I shook down to my core…my foundations broke…walls broke. 
And as a lay there, the little girl who’s become my 3 year old mini-me, my little sister, my little princess…came up and asked Ashley if she was taking care of me. Ashley responded yes and she said, “Ok, good.”
Several times, she came in to just look at me and check in without really even saying anything. I took some time just to be alone and work through my emotions. I had pulled myself together when she brought in some fresh baked banana bread and said, “This is for you…would you like it?”
I took it. She just smiled and walked away.
I didn’t think much of it until after lunch when she came to get me and led me to her room. She asked me a simple question that really didn’t have anything to do with me or her or…anything at all. “Can you buy me some starburst at the store?”
She told me she would share with me and take care of me.
In that moment, something broke in me. This 3 year old girl saw my pain and my brokenness. Although I wasn’t an emotional mess anymore, she saw me in my vulnerability and loved me. She saw my brokenness and sought to make me feel better in the only way she knew how. She was just there and she wanted to take care of me.
It was so genuine and selfless…so innocent and loving. 
A 3 year old girl filled up my tank today. She broke me down. She showed me that the simplest comment could build someone up despite the circumstances. She showed me Jesus and she may never know it.
I came on this trip to pour into people. I was poured into today. 10 months worth of pouring out…God used 1 little girl to fill it all up with His love, grace, care, concern, strength.
It made me think of having a child-like faith. She had no idea what was wrong or how to make things better, but she just wanted to be there. Unlike so many of us adults, and much like me, she didn’t wanna control anything. She didn’t wanna take the pain away or ignore it. She saw this completely raw side of me and just wanted to be there…no questions asked, no probing. She just wanted to share candy and take care of me.
I’m not sure why it hit me like it did or why it poured so much refreshing energy into me, but it did. I guess it was one of those instances where God just decides to speak in a new way. It wasn’t the wind, it wasn’t the rain…it was my comforting mini me.
Thank God for “little” reminders of His comfort and His refreshing power when we’re at our lowest. Literally…little.
