Oh Vietnam, how I love you dearly. I was honestly pretty indifferent about Vietnam since I signed up for this route. It’s not that I didn’t want to go, I just didn’t know much about the country. Pretty much the only thing I’ve ever heard about this place were war stories from a gruff voiced, old war vet preceded by, “Back in Nam.” Little did I know, the time I spent in this country would be one of the most impactful months of my young adult life.
At the end of the month, I heard another one of my squad mates also had an incident with a marble staircase. I knew my little dance with stone and gravity the previous month left me crippled with a broken big toe, so I decided to message her to see if she made it out any better than me. I asked about ministry and she said her team had been teaching college students English all month. Now, if they would have let me choose my ministry for the month, I would have much rather taught college students than 4-11 year old kids. However, as is tradition, God wanted to challenge me and make me grow instead of letting me choose the path of least resistance.
If you have ever shared any time in ministry with me, you probably know I’ve never really had an affinity for kids. I can deal with sas mouth teenagers all day long, I was a youth leader at my church for years however, kids just freak me out a little bit. On top of their quickness to cry, not understanding social norms, occasional crazy snot attacks, and constantly sticky hands, I tried to help at VBS one year and got punked by a group of 7 year old girls. Needless to say, it was a little damaging to my ego. That very day, I swore I would hate kids for the rest of my existence, or at least until I had my own.
The first day of classes were just as I expected, frightening, exhausting, and frustrating. If it were up to me, I would have never gone back and just switched to a surfing ministry. Bye bye, I’ll see everybody on the bus to Cambodia. Please God, anything but teaching little kids. Fortunately, it wasn’t up to me, God had bigger plans. The next day was actually pretty cool. All the kids were well behaved and I think my teaching partner and I were getting the hang of it. I hated to admit it, and don’t tell anyone but, I actually kind of enjoyed it.
As the days went on, I realized kids aren’t that bad. At one point, during a water break, I was leaning against the white board, observing the kids, laughing and playing in their natural habitat, when all of the sudden I felt this strange sense of joy and wonder come over me. I have no idea how to describe it but, it was almost as if my heart was smiling. I tried my best to suppress the feelings of absolute delight but they were bubbling over in an uncontrollable fashion. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh at their excitement over a plastic bunch of grapes, or a drawing they had made on the white board. They were so eager to show “teacher Bird” and receive a high five for a job well done. I began to think wow, this is only a sliver of the delight I will find in my future kids, and even that will only be an inkling of the amount of love God feels about us.
I’ve realized I can learn a lot from kids, whether it is having the ability to laugh at simple things, to make a game out of a piece of paper and a rubber band, or just to simply fall on the ground, wiggle around and make crazy noises every once in a while. Why does everything in life have to be so serious?
Children are so innocent. They don’t have any constant pain ringing through their subconscious emotionally crippling their relationships, addictions that run so deep they are shiesty their friends and family. They don’t have to prove anything to anyone or have the stress of finals or problems at work making them snippy to their playmates. For the most part, they just kick it, roll with the punches, while trusting people to a fault. Sure, some kids are jerks, just like some adults are jerks. That just means they are in need of a little bit more love.
I think it is a natural human instinct to either be afraid or intrigued by the unknown. In this particular case, my unknown was kids. I didn’t like them because I didn’t understand them. All I’ve ever chosen to see is when they are jerks to their parents at the grocery store, draw on the walls or don’t want to share with their friends so they scream in an ear piercing manner. I chose not to see the joy they could bring into a person’s life. I chose to disregard so much happiness because I refused to even attempt to understand why kids do what they do. But most of all, I chose not to love an entire section of people whom Jesus made sure not to ignore.
So, my friend, I have a question that I would like everyone to wrestle with for a while.
Do you have anything in your life that you are afraid of simply because you don’t understand it?
Do you think we have the ability to forgive so thoroughly that we are revived to that child like sense of wonder?
Do you think our minds could be restored to blindly trust people, not out of naivety, but out of purity of heart, and because we are so solid in our identity that the consequences don’t matter?
Do you have that child like trust in God? Do you think it is possible?
Also, do you have anything in your life that you are afraid of simply because you don’t understand it?
Dig, Dig, Dig! Wrestle with those questions and call me in the morning.
