The word has spread that we are in the village. Westerners in the small village of 1,000 is a sight not often seen here. Yesterday was our first day of ministry and now just walking up the center of the village, where the basketball court is the center of attention, we stole its thunder. The kids run up and latch on to every available limb. They yell and scream our names, and all we did yesterday was show up.
The center of the village teams with life as everyone getting home from the long day either comes and participates or watches around the edges.
With kids around my legs and attached to all five fingers I sit on the concrete warmed by the sun that is starting to sink into late afternoon. A few of the women from my team join me in wrangling the kids on the sidelines so the teens can play an actual game of volley ball without fear of thumping them on the back of the head. We play games and sing, though most of them are simply satisfied by seeing how many of their little bodies can fit on my lap in a single moment.
In all of the chaos, someone poked me.
I squawked.
The kids thought it was hysterical. Their faces all looked at me with utter disbelief that they could force that noise out of a fully grown human. And then I saw it, the glint in their eyes. I knew it was coming, like when your sibling sees an opportunity to strike and you’ve experienced too much to expect them not to take it.
I was surrounded and they were closing in. In one fell swoop the war broke out.
Tickling.
I twitched and squirmed and tickled them back, pinned to the ground under their reaching hands and heads all stuck together in the unison attack.
Folks, if you know me, I laugh a lot. I do, but in that moment I felt more genuine joy than I had in a while. And as I accepted the fact that I wasn’t going to get away from being tickled, and the entirety of the situation sunk in, I laughed. I laughed bigger than I remember being able to. The heart I had for those kids swelled as I looked into their scrunched up, giggling faces.
Jesus loves the little children. That has been pressed into my spirit more this month than I would ever expect. Yes I am going door to door and building a foundation with the community. Yes, we will be breaking ground on a church building. Yes we will be mapping out the area to help future teams. But we are also building unforgettable relationships that bring a lot of love into these people’s lives, and into our own. These kids that have pushed their way into the empty spaces of our ministry are precious to my God. They may not be the most influential, the ones that make the decisions, or know any of the answers, but they hold joy, love and laughter.
They hold Jesus.
