“Break my heart for what breaks Yours // Everything I am for Your kingdom’s cause // As I walk from earth into eternity”
It’s a very sweet moment, singing this song in worship surrounded by other Christians. It’s community. It’s surrender. It’s commitment. It’s love manifested. Soul cries of “yes, Lord,” “use me,” and break my heart for what breaks Yours!” ring out. Tears of joy and and reverence stream down the faces of His children. Promises are carved into hearts. I do believe in the sincerity of these soul cries, I do. But do we know what it really means to desire that? I caught a glimpse.
It was a day like any other. Except… it wasn’t.
Friday, February 12.
Today, we got to sleep in and do ministry together as a whole team! The morning looked like any other but in slow-motion. We all woke up some time after 8 (or maybe 9 or 10), hair sticking in all sorts of directions, pouring cereal into bowls and checking the plums for ripeness as we continued to rub our eyes and scratch the numerous bug bites covering our bodies—horses don’t have fleas but dogs certainly do and they weren’t the only ones who got bit! Yawns circulated the house as we got ready to do… well, whatever we felt like doing this morning. Some of us continued to lay in bed until 12:30 before ministry while others spent their morning quite productively with exercise or having quiet time with the Lord. Guess what I did. Ha!
As I was laying there reading my most beloved Lord of the Rings trilogy, 12:30 crept up and sprung on me. I about flew off of my bed to change and brush my teeth, and just in time! The other five had just filed out the door.
Ministry today was different from the rest of the week. I had been running around scoopin’ poop and ridin’ horses (eeeeeep!!!) until I was exhausted and I LOVED it. But today we were going to help Lucas, a friend of our host, make sandwiches and spend time with the youth playing games and telling them about how much Jesus loves them. And all morning since I woke up I was absolutely dreading it. My stomach was in knots, my temper brooding, I was not okay and I didn’t know why. Soooo I buried myself in my reading and ignoring it. It’s not often that I find myself saying, “I don’t want to go play with kids,” but for some reason, that’s exactly what was running through my mind.
Great start!
First things first, we get to the bakery and begin making the sandwiches. I grudgingly grab the absurdly large knife and begin cutting the “palony” into thin slices for the sandwiches. Eeyore would have been jealous of the black cloud hanging over my head at this point. After much slicing and muttering, the job was done and my hands effectively smelt like a package of bologna. No washing could fix that! So I sighed extra loudly and we set out to meet up with the kiddos.
All was well for the first half hour. I sat on the curb watching our dedicated athletes (specifically Britt, Hannah, and the boys from KOB) play soccer with the most energetic nuggets. Every now and again a sweet little girl would clamber onto my lap or jump start me from behind and giggle uncontrollably. Alright, that was cute. Yet the black cloud hadn’t lessened one bit… so maybe it wasn’t playing with cute kids that I was foreboding. What was it then? Something about today was making my heart real restless.
More and more children began showing up and some of the boys who had come last Friday sprinted over to launch themselves onto our backs—I believe this is “hello” in little boy language. But suddenly I felt two arms wrap around my neck and a face pops up next to mine with a huge grin splitting his face: it was VJ!* I haven’t seen this boy in practically a month and here he is standing right in front of me! We swap handshakes and hugs and then I continue to sit on the curb and watch him join in the game of street soccer. Jen and I looked on, assuming the roles of fans and cheerleaders simultaneously.
A little time goes by and my sweet friend who’s name is beyond my ability to pronounce let alone spell takes a seat on my lap.
Sweetie striking a pose.
We’re enjoying ourselves, laughing at the funny faces each other is making when some boys catch my eye. They look like the tough boys, the ones that I thought would probably like to learn a super cool 100% awesome handshake that I made up on the spot. Why not, right? So here’s the toughest of the tough, Shawn. And after tormenting me with jabs and pokes to the side followed by a quick retreat around the back of the truck, we became something like friends. You betcha, the handshake won him over! Yet something seemed rather off as I spent time interacting with him…
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*VJ is a twelve-year-old boy from the J Bay area that Jen and I had the privilege of getting lunch with one day. God sure does have divine appointments set up. 🙂
