“Father of the fatherless…” -James 1:27
We drove off in our big van with the intention of taking care of orphans. We had gone over dramas that point out the strength of God. (“DIOS ES FUERTE!” as we called it.) I remember thinking about the plans we had. I kept thinking, “God, I hope this works…”
After many narrow misses wayward motorcycles, we pulled off the road and drove around some undergrowth. We arrived at a building that was too small. I kept thinking, “This is it?” We arrived with kids staring at us. I wonder if they were as scared of me as I was of them.
Most of them were shy, as most kids are. As they warmed up to us, I began to see myself in them: Fearful… vulnerable… wondering what these new people were doing in my life…
There was a little boy sitting in the back in a broken high chair. As he stared at me with an intense curiosity I wondered why: was it because I was American, fatter than most, that I gawked at him too…
He pointed at my wrist. Looking down I saw my tattoo, “Love your enemies”. He was fascinated. He grabbed my other wrist, and seeing it blank, the look of amazement got bigger. I knelt down and he immediately latched onto me.
“AHCA!” (“There!”) and we journeyed outside together. Looking in his eyes, I think we both remembered what it means to be a child of God: Scared, but knowing that God is strong.
The question for me has always been: will this be enough for me?
