Every time October rolled around, someone in my church would announce we were going to pack shoe boxes with gifts and send them to kids around the world who couldn’t afford presents. At 12 years old, I liked the videos of kids running down a dirt road, holding high gifts high with beaming smiles all around.
I often wondered where the presents we packed ended up but never really saw the impact. Faithfully joining my family and church each year, and never really knowing what became of them… until now.
Welcome to Victor Raul. The home of my team and I for the first 6 weeks in Peru.
Unless you have some association with our ministry here, even many locals dont know much about it.
Dusty. Unpaved. Trash and rotting fruit along the roads creating quite the smell.
Most people either working or sitting wherever they can escape the hot desert sun. Its summer right now on this side of the equator.
Kids finding a ball to kick around and often wanting to join in a game of soccer with us Gringos.
This is where God has brought us on this leg of our journey.
After a week of freshly painting the primary school we live at and playing sports with the locals every evening, we were ready to host a little summer bible school. A majority of us don’t have a grasp on the language, so we focus on the universal language of Love, being a presence, and serving our hosts Joel and Maria however we can.
After a week of pre-celebration, Bible lessons, and dancing we were ready.
It was time to open presents!
Maria, one host’s wife, approached me and asked, “Could you share the Gospel with the children in a few minutes?” I excitedly said yes!
And the next moment had me realizing, how do I wrap up a week of Bible in one short message to children with wandering minds and using a translator? I leaned over to two of my team saying, Pray for me!
Moments later, some wonderfully familiar words were once again whispered in my ear by an Messenger felt not seen, “You are born to be loved my son.”
Ah….yes
The words withdrew a settled sense of love, deep in in my spirit. My Father’s affirmation.
I stood up to preach and after recapping some details bent on grabing attention and making sure the kids understood the role of this King or “Boss” named Jesus. Most of all, that it is about a relationship with the Father.
I dont know how much those kids really understood of my sermon in the summer heat, but I do know what I was really sharing was the grace-filled cry of my heart.
YOU ARE LOVED.
Afterwards we handed out gifts and experienced a Christmas in February. Quite a bit slower than America.
I didn’t see excitement, I saw awe.
I didnt see kids focused on whats gift was next, but savoring each item with glee.
I even saw one boy’s eyes spark with joy shouting, “I got a spoon!” When he saw the utensil sitting on top of the other gifts. Everyone was just as amused as the boy by the gift.
Thinking back to my Christmas in North Carolina this year, we spent some time going through old VHS tapes enjoying the Christmas of 1998. I think Little Andy was just as enthusiastic as the Spoon Boy. Haha!
The Holy Spirit was speaking to my heart the simple things often clouded by the American noise. Maybe this is the whole reason why He brought us here in the first place. To be loved. To be love.
I observed a sense of wonder that reminded me of my Dad in heaven. Placing his most cherished beauty in all of creation in the eyes of His children.
Full of life. Eager. Hopeful. In awe.
This. This is the Kingdom of God. Here. Now.
I got to taste yet again the gift of love in a fresh new way as I shared a piece of my heart with these children, no different than the rest of us children. No matter how long we’ve wandered this earth.
Tiny hearts, wide open to Dad’s love.
God has given me the spirit of a man, and is walking me in a deeper level of discovery in my heart of a child. What a wonderful Dad He is.
