Children’s ministry in Chibuto has looked like dancing, singing, playing, and telling Bible stories. It’s sounded like lots of laughter and upbeat music. Village evangelism has looked like healing, salvations, and at times, darkness. It’s sounded like praise and celebration as well as prayers for peace, discernment, and understanding once we headed back to our compound.
Our first day doing village ministry, one household stuck out to me beyond the others. The man of the house explained to us through a translator that there was no peace in his house. He and his family didn’t have peace.
I had the honor of being present while my teammate, Kayce, shared Jesus and Philippians 4:6-7 with him. “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard yours hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
I watched in awe as this man stooped to the ground and with his finger, wrote Philippians 4:6-7 in the dirt. He marked his land with peace. In that, I saw hope. I hope that he and his family surrender EVERYTHING to Christ, and in Him, find the peace they so desperately desire.
Typically when we do children’s ministry, I’m super loud and obnoxious, constantly singing, dancing, and high-fiving. Hype. But one day I was sleepy, so I resorted to something the girls had loved our first day of children’s ministry, something that knows no language barriers: nail polish!
I sat in a chair under a tree in the shade and painted fingernails. I prayed the line of girls who wanted their nails painted wouldn’t end because I wasn’t sure I could muster the energy to dance my heart out or play soccer. When the line did come to an end, I knew what to do. Pedicures! I used my best acting skills to ask the girls if they wanted their toenails painted as well and their excited head nods gave me my answer.
I ditched the chair, plopped down in the dirt, and had the girls place their feet on my leg as I painted their toenails. I watched as they were shy about letting dirt-covered feet touch me, but as I casually brushed the dirt off their toes to create a clear canvas for painting, they settled into the universal relaxation a pedicure brings.
That’s when it happened. They embraced me. I felt a shift as they became more comfortable with me, their laughter increased, and one of the girls began to braid my hair. I felt much more connected with them sitting in the dirt than I did trying to stay awake in a chair.
God brought to my mind the man from the village who wrote Philippians 4:6-7. That man had written hope in the dirt that day and today, I had done the same. I was also reminded of a time Jesus had written hope in the dirt. Remember a woman caught in the darkest place in her life? Remember when her shame was used to try to prove a point? Remember when Jesus remained true to his character, just as he always does? Not only did he bring light to why no one could condemn her, but he also brought no condemnation upon her himself. Jesus wrote with his finger in the dirt that day (John 8).
Meeting someone exactly where they are is powerful. Sitting with them just as they are matters. I know, because it’s been done for me. Jesus does this for us and we are meant to do it for each other. I’ve watched the impact that occurs when someone is loved unconditionally and their potential and who God created them to be is recognized and affirmed. It brings hope to the darkest places. It allows hope to be written, even in the dirt.
