On our first day of ministry in Nepal, we ventured to a dilapidated slum on the muddy banks of a river, and were soon flanked by children.
I love kids, and have a particular pension for the mischievous ones, who seem also to be drawn naturally to me.
Two children ran my way, and I bent down to high-five and introduce myself.
These bullying, rock yielding kids were cavalier in demeanor and displayed a palpable pent up aggression.
This got me thinking. Was this behavior innate, or a product of living in their environment?
In a country of caste systems where the deeply impoverished are looked down upon;
In a dark and crime riddled environment where running water, electricity, and daily meals are as far removed as any sense of hope may be; a place where you must fight for life daily; A place that forces young boys like these into adulthood years too soon.
The first fifteen minutes of our new friendship consisted of me breaking up fights they had initiated with their fists. I’d bend down and stare these little guys down and say “The next time you hit someone, I’m throwing you into the river.” They seemed to get the message and shifted their focus to hurling rocks as far as their little arms could throw them. The longer we played though, their demeanors shifted.
They morphed rapidly from fighters to lovers. Fist fights turned into tickle fights and glares turned into giddy laughter. The three of us were having a ball.
I’d parade them around the river bank with their heads held high, proclaiming “Here come the Kings!”
I called them kings not to instill a sense of entitlement, but to portray a piece of their true identity.
How do you portray to a six year old that when others see worthless, God sees royalty?
I haven’t quite figured it out. I absolutely adore hanging with children, but communication obviously looks different than it does with adults. I just hope in the interactions we’ve shared over the last week, I can give them back slices of their childhood that is being robbed by the slum.
You may not be able to control the circumstances of your birth. But I believe you can become handcuffed to your fate if you don’t know your identity. Our identity is not in our circumstances, but in our creator. However, that’s a difficult proposition for six year olds to comprehend.
Conveying this message may in love, I believe, is the most effective way. If I can pick them up, parade them around, and love them unconditionally, maybe they’ll realize that they are indeed worthy of being loved.
Maybe they’ll realize they are worth something, after all.
A transformative epiphany, birthed in hurling rocks into the river and reaching out to those deemed unworthy. Because even the six year old bullies from the slum deserve to know that they are loved.
Long live the young kings, for they are precious in their father’s sight.
I’m excited to share more about our time in Nepal working with young children like these, as well as at-risk women and children, many of whom have been rescued out of indescribable oppression in the form of human trafficking and abuse.
This is truly a beautiful country with magnificent people, and I’m blessed to be able to illuminate the darkness alongside my teammates.
Thanks for the support, and adventure on!
