Although I’m not an alumni yet, I think I can effectively say the World Race lives up to its claim to be some of the best, but hardest, 11 months of my ife. It will certainly be an adjustment going back to a world that doesn’t naturally drag you through an emotional rollercoaster with each new day. Last week we had an evening just like you’d expect on the World Race. Of course, what you come to “expect” after 8 1/2 months is pretty much anything.
Our pastor contact this month let us know that we would have a meeting/feeding with some orphans that he sponsors. I’m not sure what I really expected the evening to look like, which perhaps is just my mind finally learning to stop attempting to predict. We were met by a room of children, preschoolers up to late high schoolers, and 8 or so older women. We began with our go-to childrens program of a slew of ridiculous action songs, getting everybody laughing (mostly at us). After we settle down a bit, our pastor offers to share some of their stories. One by one, we find out each childs name, year in school, and then the heartbreaking past that has ultimately brought them into a room with us and under pastor’s support. We hear of fathers committing suicide, mothers passing away from tuberculosis, of their present housing in shacks or tents on the side of the road. The smiles that were cultivated earlier begin to fade, replaced by one sad reality after another, from kids who have faced more pain than I can imagine after twice their years.
It was a powerful evening, as we were able to pray over each of the children, and Joni (one of our squad leaders, with us for the month) shared her own testimony, which spoke with force to the whole room. I was struck by the reality of pain that crosses the world, that no people group or income level is inevitably immune to. As we hugged and prayed with these children, it was not as reaching down from any higher place, but as wanderers in the desert who have found the same wellspring. It was amazing being able to rest in the reality of the Father’s love for us as the only effective hope to which we can eternally cling. We ended the night serving and sharing a wonderful meal, and passing out the next school session’s fees to each kid. You know, just another evening.
