First, one spots you and sends out signals to the rest. They leap into view in twos and threes, inevitably forming into a pack that starts out walking but always picks up speed and flat-out runs toward you. You can hear the rumble as the stampede draws near; bare feet slapping the red dirt, an excited roar pouring out of thirty little mouths, the occasional angry shout as little bodies elbow each other for a better position. Their curls bounce in the wind and their teeth are bared in fierce grins of pure joy. As they reach your group they divide and conquer, each honing in on their favorite target. One leaps from a few feet away and somehow lands with all four limbs wrapped around your body and a little face pressed into your neck. Another scrambles up the back of your legs, clinging to your back and wrapping wiry arms around your throat. A third wraps around one of your legs, tugging on your hands and laughing with delight when you allow one to be claimed. You finish walking up the road in a kind of slow shuffle, being squeezed and tugged and chattered at excitedly in Khmer, which you don’t understand.
Welcome to children’s ministry in the village.
Sound terrifying? It has its moments. It’s always a little disconcerting to realize that there are enough tough little kids to take you down if they wanted to. It’s also rewarding, humbling, exhausting, tear-jerking, heart-breaking, fulfilling, and so much fun.
We spent three mornings a week visiting and ministering in a Cambodian village called 42 Houses. I’m not sure if there were 42 houses there – I never counted – but there were certainly a lot of children. Some days we just showed up and played with them for a couple of hours. Other times we sang songs and told stories, or bathed them and fed them lunch. On our last day we even had a water balloon fight, which was mercifully short and resulted in more wet, happy children than drenched, beaten-up World Racers.
For me, ministry in 42 Houses was simple: make these kids feel loved.
Some of the kids we visited were pretty wild. Okay, most of them were pretty wild. They run freely, with the babies being carted around by their 6 or 8 year old siblings most of the time. Clothing was optional – I’ve never seen so many naked little kids in my life! One toddler showed up one day stark naked, brandishing a giant kitchen knife at us. Terrifying. There wasn’t a whole lot of organized activity with these kids, but I feel like I made a bigger impact there than in a lot of other ministries. Here’s what my days in the village looked like:
- Becoming a human jungle gym and hoping my back survived it
- Carrying one child on each hip until my arms gave out
- Giving lots of hugs
- Spinning in circles, pulling kids up in the air, and hanging them upside down while they giggled
- Answering the kids in English and holding conversations where no one understood anything
- Braiding hair and hoping the lice wouldn’t jump
- Sitting in the grass with my arms wrapped around the quiet one
- Carrying the kid who gets bullied around in my arms for an hour
- Scrubbing wiggling little bodies at bath time
- Wearing sunglasses each day knowing the kids would steal them and pretend to be rockstars
- Being a chair for the little ones as they eat their rice and chicken
- Breaking up fistfights
- Singing to a little boy with his head rested trustingly on my shoulder
- Serving as a safe haven for the kid who just wanted to be held
- Laughing a lot
- Holding at least two little hands at all times
- Running from the boys who try to drop bugs in my hair
- Secretly picking which kids I want to adopt the most
- Holding naked kids
- Holding wet kids
- Holding kids with lice
- Holding kids who punched me just for fun
You get the picture. If you’re not looking to invest hardcore, this might not be the ministry for you.
I found my niche in the village pretty quickly. My teammates are so great with kids: some play wild games and make them laugh, others are great at organizing games or doing hair. None of those are really my thing, but from the first visit I found myself with one or two kids each day that I just carried around all day. One day it was a fierce little warrior of a girl, who laughed wildly and never stopped moving, even when she was in my arms. Another day it was a little boy with a black eye who just wanted me to hug him, hold him, and never put him down where the other kids could reach him. Once it was a naked little toddler with a mullet haircut – when I squatted down to hug him, his face lit up with delight, and he ran over and scrambled into my arms. What can you do? I scooped him up, hugged him tight, and hoped he didn’t pee on me (he didn’t).
You know what’s crazy about these kids? It is the simplest thing in the world to make their day. Hug them. Carry them around. When they hold you tight, squeeze them back. In other words – LOVE THEM. That’s all they need to know about us, that we would give them the time of the day and show them affection. I don’t know what their lives are like, but I know that they are completely starved for attention.
It’s easy to get caught up in the big things we think God wants us to do for Him, but if there’s one thing I know about Jesus, it’s that He felt pretty strongly about taking care of kids. God gave me so much love for these kids. Yes, they were wild, but it was a privilege to be trusted with their little hearts. I’ve never felt as loved as I did when one of those little ones gave me a huge smile, wrapped their arms around me and buried their face in my neck, and refused to let go. In those moments, I knew I was the entire world to that kid in my arms. I tried to show them that they were the entire world to me, too. It was true – I was completely hooked.
Do you want to do big things for God’s kingdom? Do you want to show His love, make a difference, and change lives? Take the time to pick up a dirty, naked, overlooked little baby and show him that he matters to someone. God loves us – so love them. It’s as simple as that.
