i’ll be posting some blogs that got lost in my phone over the past seven months… they’re mostly short and sweet, and mostly for my own enjoyment, but i wanted to share them with you.
May 20, 2016, 11:09 am- Morocco
To the girl in the brown sweater, and to all of your sisters and brothers on the street.
On one of our last days in North Africa, we took a bunch of worker’s kids out to play on the beach. As we gathered them around to start a game, a little girl in pink came into the group asking for money. No one gave her a glance. It was like she was invisible, until someone said “watch your bags.” And then she was ignored again. Everything in my heart said help her, talk to her, show her love, but I didn’t. I just watched. Oh Lord, where is my boldness? What is compassion without action? She left after 10 minutes of standing in our midst, a man sitting close by just watching her. We played games for two hours, and then walked up to the road and waited for our host to come. As I came up the ramp, I noticed another girl in a brown sweater trying to sell flowers to some people. She would put a rose in their hands, and they’d put it on the ground near her. She’d speak French and some English, trying to convince them to buy a flower. I watched this happen a few times and then sought out our host, asking if there was anything we could do for her. Hannah* explained that the girls are sent out by either their mothers or handlers to sell flowers, and the adult sits somewhere else and waits. “There’s nothing you can do,” she said, “you can buy a flower if you want, or buy them a snack.” I decided a snack was the better option. Since she had a few friends with her I bought a shareable candy, and then walked over to her and another little girl. I don’t remember what I said, but she took it carefully and then turned away. I walked back to the sidewalk and rejoined the group, and just as we were leaving she came back and said, “Merci!” with a smile on her face. I smiled and nodded, unable to communicate anything more than that.
If only God would see fit to give me the ability to speak all languages. If I could, here are a few things I would tell her… You are loved. You have worth far beyond the amount of flowers you sell each day. You face disappointment and rejection often, but there’s someone who calls for you daily. He desires to hold you up, and to strengthen you. He looks at you as more than a money maker, more than a tool used in selfishness. He desires more for you. Your life has been hard, but He desires to carry your burdens. He wants to bring you joy far better than anything you have ever experienced. So listen. He cries louder than any call to prayer ever could, and whispers love into your heart.
