Gypsy Girls and Pooh Balls

 

Yesterday, we went to a Gypsy village not too far away from Casa Shalom for ministry.

Armed with a few soccer balls, a rugby ball, and a lot of hula hoops, we piled into the van and made our way to the house where we would spend the afternoon playing, praying, and listening to Becky’s awesome accordion playing skills.

Don’t laugh – you would be surprised at how many people will stop what they’re doing to hear an accordion.

Or maybe you’re one of the few who watched Family Matters as a child and thought Steve Urkel busting one out was awesome.

In that case, you’re awesome.

 

I noticed her the second I got out of the van – wide brown eyes, black and purple striped shirt and khaki colored pants.

She went straight for the hula hoops, and I went straight for one the babies – a gorgeous little one named Maria-Antonia.

 

 

Not long after I gave Maria back to her grandmother and picked up a hula hoop, the girl with the wide brown eyes found me.

This time, she had dropped the hula hoops and had a plastic ball with Winnie the Pooh on it in hand…

Which she threw in my direction.

Game on!

 

So I played.

Sometimes some of the other children would come and see what was going on, but my new friend shooed them away fairly quickly.

It was just the two of us, with a lot of random grunts and laughter to cement the path to our friendship.

I may or may not have fallen in love again, and this time I never got her first name.

 

At one point, my friend and I were throwing two balls back and forth.

It occurred to me as I caught one and threw it back that my life is a lot like the game we were playing.

In life, I have been given a few balls to throw around (or juggle), but I can’t handle all of them on my own.

God did not design me with a million hands in order to do it – all I have is two.

In fact, He designed me so I would have to throw them back to Him because He is capable.

No, more than capable…

He is the only one I should be throwing the balls to in the first place, and I need to trust Him to know whether or not the ball I threw to Him is one He should return.

What kind of a ball game is it if I don’t trust the One who started throwing balls in the first place to play by the rules and help me to finish as a winner, anyway?