Today I woke up thinking my team was going to help paint a school. Sounded good to me. We arrive at the school, to find it is the first day of school (ever) for the preschoolers! My team plus team WOHC became the teachers helpers among a few other local women who came to help. Our liaison called Megan, Dan, Lexi, and Tiara for classroom #1. It was so exciting seeing moms and dads walk their children up and take their sweet photos. Up until I walked into the classroom all the kids looked happy (i thought).
The moment we walked into the classroom, the only sound you could hear was screaming and crying from twenty, two and three year olds begging for their mommy or daddy back. Sat down in a chair much too small for my long legs and quickly befriended, practically the only two kids not crying. I blew up balloons for them and played with them until just right behind me a grief-stricken boy had climbed up the window completely, while screaming for his dad. Another helper was trying to get him down and it took the help of me to accomplish it.
A few minutes later, there he is again. This time when we got him down, I held him and put him on my lap. He did NOT want to sit on my lap. He wanted his parents. It honestly hurt me to have to force him to stay there. But if I let him go knew he would climb the window again and potentially really hurt himself. After a few minutes of kicking and squirming he got out of my grip and just as I predicted climbed the window faster than I could even catch him. It took multiple people to get him down. While we were tugging on him he started punching the window. My heart was heavy for him. He was hurting himself. He was probably scared. I wanted him to know so badly—this is a safe place. You can rest now, buddy. Your dad is coming back to get you. Come on, lets play.
I carried him to the other side of the room away from the window and he did not like that. He started hitting and punching me and tried his very hardest to get free. I started praying over him and singing. Nothing changed in an instant but over time he calmed down. He probably had exhausted himself. He never played with any toys but for the last twenty minutes he sat peacefully on my lap holding onto my arm. I rubbed his head and back while praying he would feel safe. That he would know this is where he is suppose to be today.
It’s kind of funny, but aren’t we a little like that boy? God’s trying to hold us and love us, we are safe in His arms! Yet somehow, we find ourselves running to the window looking out for something else. It doesn’t even have to be something bad. It wasn’t bad he missed and desired his parents. But his duty in that moment wasn’t to be with them. It was to be a preschooler and play with his friends. You and me know that isn’t scary. But to him that was unfamiliar and unsafe. Maybe God’s calling to just sit and play today. Instead of running to the window of safety and familiar, trust His provision!
The best part is, God is never going to force us into His arms. But He will always be there, arms open wide, when we run back.
