It was our first real day in the Philippines and as we walked up the street as an obvious group of mostly white Americans and you feel the slight anxiety of arriving in our first country on the World Race and wondering how we were going to be received. But there was little time for hesitancy as almost immediately a handful of street kids came running up to us, wide smiles across their faces, joy and laughter in their hearts and they reached upward and practically flung themselves into our arms.
I picked up a big eyed little boy dressed in white with something brown and streaky smeared across his face, captivated by his contagious smile and not even caring about whatever was also staining his clothing. It didn’t matter that he was dirty, all that mattered was fully accepting this little boy in love and excitement. Up and into my arms he went, and as he leaned across to grasp hands with his friend who was also in the arms of someone near to me, my heart was filled with warmth. What a welcoming. I was so full, bubbling to the brim with joy in the moment. It didn’t take long for me to become enamored by the people of the Philippines, my people.
Soon after I was surrounded by a group of 30 boys all asking my name and vying for attention. It may seem overwhelming to have so many clamoring after you at once, and I assure you to a certain degree it was! Never had I been so directly and ardently sought out by children before! Another precious little boy ran up to me pushing down his nose exclaiming, “Your nose! Your nose is flat! You look like us!!” And my pride in being able to claim a connection through my heritage was strengthened as I shouted back, “that’s because I am like you! I’m Filipino too!” I got big exclamations and smiles as word traveled throughout the pack, so apparently they liked my response.
Working with Kids International meant that most of the time I was working directly with children and youth. Occasionally there were days of ministry where we had to blessings by digging 6 feet deep holes that are also 4 by 4 feet, or not crying as grit gets in your eye as you are being showered with wet concrete while lifting heavy buckets of it up scaffolding, or tediously moving rock piles that resist as much as possible sticking to the wet clay underneath- but let’s just say these were the character building days in which we learned the value of having a good Spirit and Joy in the Lord despite circumstances. Those days only glorified the days that we got to work in the children’s home: pushing orphans on the swings, spinning round with them on our backs, or playing with their pet spiders with egg sacs that they kept in match boxes in their shorts. Working in the nursery was heartwarming: having three toddlers pile into your lap all at once just because,
supervising as they sloppily threw their rice at each other and at the floor, and trying to convince them not to ram the babies sitting in their rolling walkers into the wall like racecars crashing into the arena walls, or pushing them into each other like bumper cars at the carnival.
Street kids were fun too, just hanging out and sitting on the curb talking, watching them collect and pinch ants to make them wrestle, going back to my elementary school roots and playing chinese jumprope with new international rules, or if you’re a tall boy doing endless arm curls with at least two kids on each arm.
Working with the schools was also a treat, reading and tutoring children in the library, almost knowing a book by heart because you’ve read the same one over and over again, and taking some to the out of school to go to the dentist. Its not like America where children are looking for reasons to skip school, here they actually worry about missing math because of a big test, and hang on the gate after school anxious for you to take them into the library after hours and help them read and speak better English. There is so much thirst and hunger to learn.
But their thirst and hunger for love is even greater. The kids run up immediately seeking affection. They call out to you wanting to be held, lifted, swung, tossed, cuddled. And they are not afraid to ask for it. With an abandon of shame they make every effort to be paid attention to. They will tug and pull, and whine, and make noises, and yell, and run after you, chasing you down the street at all hours of the day regardless of what you are doing or where you are going. They are not worried about annoying you, or being over affectionate and are not deterred by rejection. They constantly persist, until you give in, and just love them. And you cannot help but love them. And in the same kind of way they are so inspiring. For as children of God, so we should behave. We should be the ones constantly pursuing the love and affection of God, our Father. Unashamed we should wine and tug and run after Him. We should not be discouraged when things do not go our way or we cannot feel ourselves being lifted up into his arms, instead we should be relentless in our pursuit of and asking for His love. We should be ever joyous as we run to Him, unhindered by our dirtiness or stains because He does not care, and loves us unconditionally. Unabashed we should crave and reach out with the innocence of a poor child who requires nothing more than to be loved. Why not?
There is nothing to lose. Because the reality is God will never be annoyed, or too busy. God delights in our seeking Him out, and He will ALWAYS sweep us up into His arms and love us.
So let us beam with the Joy, Love and Fatih of children, because Jesus says, “Let them Come unto Me”.
