Miguel is 11 years old. He’s loud, crazy, disruptive, cusses and can’t sit still.
He’s one of the oldest kids that comes to our after-school program and one of my favorites.
Before knowing his story, it was already clear this kid soaked in the attention when he had it, and stole it when he didn’t. And after hearing about home life, his behavior made sense. Both parents are drug addicted and on the streets in another city. He doesn’t know that. Right now, he just knows his grandma is watching him.
Last Saturday night after dinner, a teammate and I were walking to a cafe to try this famous Colombian hot chocolate. On the way, we ran into Miguel, who was walking home by himself. We gave him loud “hola’s” and two big high fives, and the smile was wide on his face. We walked and talked with him for a bit, and then the Lord light-bulbed me to invite him to get hot chocolate with us.
With our less than moderate Spanish capabilities, we asked him if he’d like to join us. Surprise was evident on his face as though he was confused. We asked him again and if he liked hot chocolate. He hesitated, but then with a simple nod and “bueno,” we were all off to the cafe.
We walked inside, and even the waiter showed his confusion as this party of “tres” was made up of two gringos and one Colombian boy. We were seated in the artsy cafe and Miguel’s wide eyes traveled around, taking in the people and the atmosphere. It was his first visit to the busy place he passed every single day on his way home.
He hadn’t eaten dinner yet, so we scouted the menu for good food options. And while this cafe would not have been expensive by American standards, I realized we probably took Miguel to his version of a nice steakhouse. While he quietly looked over the menu, we told him he could order absolutely anything. Our little man excitedly smiled and then confidently pointed to the pork ribs atop arepas. He had good taste.
So with the assistance of Miguel, we placed our order for food and the famous hot chocolate with cheese.
We talked like good amigos and asked him about “futbol,” family, friends, pets and whatever else we could with our available vocabulary. He went from shy, hesitant and overtly polite to laughing and telling us about his life. The food came out and he wanted to share. I took a much-too-large-bite of the spicy beet salad he didn’t like, and though I yelped as my mouth caught on fire, his belly laughter that erupted made it completely worth it. (#literallyburningforthegospel)
As his stomach filled and conversations closed, we asked for the bill and a to-go box for the food he saved for his grandma. We told him how thankful we were that he joined us, and the typically crazy boy smiled sweetly and returned his gratitude.
God taught me quite a bit about what love does through that one hour with Miguel.
Surrounded by 20 others kids at the foundation, I think Miguel thinks he has to fight to be seen. I think his disruptions, his cussing, his loud outbursts, are simply cries of “please see me.” I think Miguel fears that with all the other kids around, there’s no way he’d be chosen. But I also think that when we showed Miguel that he clearly is seen and chosen, he was so taken back that he didn’t know how to receive it at first.
I think love does that sometimes. Love makes people feel so seen and loved that it baffles them for a quick second. But once it sets in that you’re with them for truly wanting to be with them, that deep, heart-need we all longingly yearn for gets satisfied. And that satisfaction produces joy and peace and comfort.
Proverbs 19:22a rings a resounding truth: “What a man desires is an unfailing love.”
Unfailing love sees, chooses and does. Jesus was unfailing love. He saw our need, longing and brokenness. He chose us regardless. He healed, restored, befriended, taught, forgave, died and rose again because he loved us.
Imitating Christ’s unfailing doesn’t include just talking about a problem or making excuses for not pursuing a person. Imitating Christ’s love sees, chooses, and does by running hard after people.
And running hard after someone can be as easy as inviting the “bad” kid for a cup of hot chocolate. God can, will and wants to use the seemingly simplest acts of Christ’s love.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
You’re deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re family’s deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re best friend’s deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re foe’s deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re pastor’s deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re church member’s deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re elderly community’s deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re homeless men and women’s deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re neighbor’s deepest desire is unfailing love.
You’re gay friend’s deepest desire is unfailing.
You’re grocery store cashier’s deepest desire is unfailing.
You’re ______________ deepest desire is unfailing love.
