I was chosen.
It was like any other Sunday church service in the slums, but this time around….wait, wait. Let me back up.
Sunday mornings start early for us here in Haiti. We grab a quick to-go breakfast and head off to the truck. We load up the sound system and boxes of Manna Packets from Food for the Hungry. We hop in and get ready for the drive. (We stand on the edges of our transportation to and from church and any other travel here.)
We make our way around the city picking up the “youth” team- a group of five to twenty-five 30-year-old Haitians who have been discipled to lead church services like the one we would be going to and share their faith in bold ways. Then we drive to the slums. As we break off from the main road, the uproar of screams starts to rise as our car bumps over the dirt roads in between metal shacks and burning piles of trash.
“Mister Rod” (Our ministry contacts name) is screamed relentlessly as we pass hundreds of children along the roads. The children jump behind the vehicle and chase after the truck all the way to the church collecting more and more with each passing clump of makeshift homes.
We duck our heads as we enter into the church grounds as to not get caught in the barbed wire that surrounds the top of the area. The unloading starts soon after. The food goes in one corner of the stage area and the boxes of pillow slip dresses and donated shorts fill the storage room.
Let me explain one more thing: You see this slum church was started by our ministry contacts. They noticed outside of church one day that there were hundreds of naked boys and girls not attending church. They asked why this was happening soon to find out that it is not culturally acceptable to go to church without a nice outfit (shirt, pants, dress, shoes, etc). Well, these slum kids would never be able to go to a “real” church because they didn’t have enough clothes to simply cloth them let alone a “Sunday best” outfit. That is when the birth of this slum church started. Only children are welcome at this church for them to come as they are. The idea is that the slum boys and girls come as they are because Jesus loved them that way in the first place, they hear about Jesus’ love and they go to share it with their parents. Our ministry hosts’ also believe that they can’t look past some of their basic needs either. Along with worship and a Jesus story through a translated movie, the children also receive food and sometimes either a dress or shorts that have been donated.
Now back to the church service. After the unloading takes place, we stand in a tunnel formation on a sidewalk. The gates open.
Hundreds upon hundreds of slum children file through the big metal doors down our high five funnel to fill long benches squeezing 15 or more to one bench. This continues on and on for what feels like 20 minutes. The gates are pushed shut at around 1,300 children leaving many on the outside of the walls due to capacity sake.
We, the World Race team, the youth team and our ministry hosts, sit on the edges of the open air church to sit as “crowd control” to take away razor blades, condom balloons, or crying babies.
Church begins. Beautiful songs of joyful praise come ringing and echoing in that small, cram-packed church of slum children. I soak in the moments. I memorize the faces. I absorb the sounds. I sit in silence. And then it happens. I was chosen.
I feel a touch on my leg. Standing at thigh level, I see a sweet little girl covered in snot and dirt with only a ripped shirt to cover her tiny body. She looks at me with a soft contentment in her eyes that begs to ask if she would be lucky enough to sit in my lap.
My gut thumps to the bottom of my stomach. Inside I battled the thoughts of her naked little bottom sitting on my “clean” shorts and what if she would go to the bathroom on me. I quickly gathered myself and picked up the little girl.
She breathed deeply. Her shoulders relaxed and she grabbed one of my fingers. We clapped our hands together, sang and watched the video. We sat together the rest of the church service in blissful peace.
Why was I chosen?
Out of the 10 people sitting around the sides of the church, why did this little girl choose me to sit with? Why was it me that needed to face a big lesson through a small girl?
You see, this little girl’s actions taught me about how God desires us to choose him. We are that little girl who is all dirty and unworthy of sitting with our God. But here is the catch, he is a good God and he is different that me in my thinking. God doesn’t once think about how dirty we are or that we bring our problems, heartaches, or challenges to him. He picks us up with no stings attached.
That little girl soaked in the full presence of God in the simplicity of sitting on a strangers lap. God wants us to soak in His full presence when we come to the Father dirty, barely covered, and needing to be the lucky one who gets to sit in his lap. We can breathe deeply and relax in our Heavenly Father’s arms just like that little girl did to me.
She choose me as a small reminder for me to constantly choose God. When there are many other options, God still sits and waits. God’s heart must feel the same way mine did when the little girl picked me of all the people to sit with. God desires our hearts to be His. Let us chose Him!
