I got to be another set of helping hands at a children’s retreat this week in India. (Can’t share specifics currently, but will soon…/as soon as I can.) Imagine VBS with 3,000 children that just want to be loved and have the focus on them. Most of these children have never had any type of encounter with a white person before. Needless to say, there was a lot of staring and pointing. After being gone and living in third world countries for 5 months… I’m used to the stares. We danced, laughed, smiled, hugged, sang, and learned of the life of Paul and to not be ashamed of the gospel. Something that I think most of us in our faith need to learn/ are still learning.
As I geared up for this Thursday my devotional for the day was about allowing the presence of the Lord in all things. To be in the present and to allow him to turn a mundane day into something incredible. Something that I’ve been struggling with lately on the race: being present, being here. Enjoying the moment while it is happening. I prayed and had that hope in my heart as I walked to the retreat passing the many houses and dust covered streets.
As we entered into the tent like every other day, something different was happening. I began to get bombarded with children asking for my autograph. “Excuse me miss, can I have your autograph?” I heard this in the sweet tone of girls and boys from all over the local villages. Asking little ole me for my autograph and for countless pictures. Getting hugs, smiles, and giggles from each little girl coming up to ask for an autograph. Something surreal, I can assure you in that.
This moment made me think of God. Most things do nowadays. I may never be an Instagram famous model. I may not be an important attorney. I may not be on the red carpet attending the Oscars. Yet, this moment made me feel famous and desired. I realized that if this was the only type of autograph I’ll ever sign in this life of mine… I’m alright with that. Being the church isn’t about the glamorous. Sometimes it’s pouring juice for hundreds of kids. It’s sitting through a church service in another language. It’s leaving the life you once loved behind. All for him. So that ultimately his name is spread. My name might have been on those papers, handkerchiefs, and arms, but the only reason I can write it is because of Jesus and his unfailing love. I get the chance to spread his name and make him known, and he is sweet enough to make me feel known.
I had also seen some of my teammates and squad-mates post pictures with children they had connected with during the week and I had felt the ugly emotion of jealousy and comparison. As I clapped to the beat of one of the catchy songs that required full attention and hand motions, a little girl waved me over to come and sit. Her name was Jessica, her friends were Kim-Kim, and Rami, and Gospel. I then spent the entire day laughing and smiling with these sweet friends. They asked question after question about me and what I loved. They were truly interested in getting to know me and my heart.
Gospel was incredibly complimentary. Well, they all were. Yet, something was different about it all when this little girl looked at me in the eyes and said, “you are so pretty.” It weighed on me. It struck a nerve in my heart. I felt God’s presence right there with those precious little girls. I felt safe. I felt seen. I felt… loved. By total strangers. I felt the safest I have this entire time while being away sitting there with those Indian little girls. Rami gave me a hair tie with a jeweled flower, just because I was a new friend. At the end of the day we sang the final song and I had these little girls hugging me on each side. As I type this I find tears welling up in my hazel eyes. I felt wanted and chosen. That is a feeling that is universal to all. Wanting to be wanted. Wanting to be chosen.
These little girls turned a day that was just going to be another one for the books and going through the motions into a day that reminded me of God’s love for us. That God is a God that sees and knows us. He delivers us from the wasteland. Sometimes that wasteland is a pity party for one. You see, while on the race I have struggled with friendships and community. I have friends and I have brothers and sisters. I just often times feel like a floater. I feel like I put more effort into nourishing relationships. So… I’ve been victim circling a bit and having a lonely pity party that has made me want to coast to the end of the race and made me question if I was supposed to be on another squad. On that day, God met me in the middle of my mess. Met me and reminded me that his love is always choosing me. That I am always a first choice. Reminding me that he had chosen me to be a vessel. To be an open vessel to pour love into those I meet. That he has placed me right where I need to be… even if it hurts sometimes.
So, yes… we do this to come and change lives. To bring the gospel (the literal translation of gospel is “good news.”) To bring hope and to be the church. To love and walk with people of all backgrounds. To share truth and life with them. Yet sometimes, Gospel is brought to us. More than we even realize. Today I met Gospel and she brought me good news from God. That’s what I call faithful and full circle y’all.
He sees and knows us.
Thank you for the prayers, the love, and the support. Praying what God wants from me in this season and the next. Struggling with remaining present but fighting for it. Would love any prayer requests and any prayers for myself, my team, and my squad.
With love, blessings, a pair of knock-off yellow converse, braided and dirty hair, cold showers, a cup of instant coffee, and a spirit and person in progress but so loved by her maker,
Grace Davis.
