Her sweet, brown puppy eyes peer up from the gutter in the street near the park, or El Parque in Espanol (I’m pretty much fluent, except not really). I named her Franky and she has the demeanor of somewhere between that of an injured dear and a little baby lamb. She is resilient and joyful despite the hard life she has had. As I feed her a can of tuna from the Supermarcado (see…fluent) on the corner, a little girl walks by the bench where I sit. She is curious of me, the tall gringo in her city, and so I start a conversation with the limited Spanish I have acquired. I invite her to sit on the bench with me and my friends. Her eyes hold the same sweetness as that precious pup. I hand her my mango and we watch Franky eat while I ask the few conversational questions I have learned since being here in Xenacoj. There are long pauses. Then, I try new words and she says more back to me which I definitely don’t understand. I smile. She giggles. Then she says a phrase of which I catch only, “Quiero una Biblia.” YES!! This, I can do!
All week, I’d been praying for purpose. There was no real plan for today except to use our Spanish to practice what we’d been taught by our awesome squadmates (thanks Keighty-Beth and ChaCha) by talking to people. Since being here, I’d been praying for the use of that Spanish to bear at least a little fruit since I’m still terrible. This was God answering that prayer for me. We talked more and she explained that her mother reads some to her and that she really wants the Bible read to her. I don’t think God will ever cease to amaze me with the desires He places in our hearts, especially those of a small child at the age of ten. And of course, the story comes to mind in that moment as I look at her and imagine when Jesus is holding the children in His lap and says, “Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a small child shall not enter it.” (Mark 10:15) And here is a child, sitting next to me on a park bench whom the Lord desires to see His Kingdom. And she looks at me eagerly, with the same eager eyes as that starving puppy.
And I know this look. I have seen so many with this look here in Xenacoj and all over the world: lost people with a hunger that nothing can satisfy, not even the Lord. Because even when we accept Him into our hearts and find our purpose in Him, still there is a longing that will never be fully met this side of heaven. I see men walking drunk through the streets here, at least the ones that are still able to stand. Others, I see slumped over on curbs, unconscious. Each time, I check their pulse and pray and feel the hopelessness of that hole they feel. I know it. I have felt it. I know the pursuit of pleasure all too well. Looking to feel anything, even pain if it means you will feel something, but then you only want to be numb to it all again because it becomes too much to bear. I lived that life for so many years. Nothing satisfied. The terrible paradox of it all though; the further and further I sunk into my own depravity, the bigger the hole seemed to feel. Men, drugs, alcohol, shopping…it all only left me feeling more and more parched until finally, one day, and by a grace I still can’t (nor do I ever expect to) fully comprehend, the Lord bent down and touched the gaping hole in my heart. When that happened, the living water of the Holy Spirit satiated those dry places within me. Like an over-flowing well that I found in the desert. That kind of grace changes you.
Now, the filling of that God-sized hole looks a lot different than it used to. When I first accepted Christ, I thought the longing inside me would forever disappear because ‘now I had Jesus,’ or so they said. But really, the longing just changes shape when He comes into our hearts. There is a shift and we go from feeling constantly empty to feeling partially full. So we drink more of this living water and the filling continues. But there is no brim. And this is where the Lord meets me and I feel the challenge in it. Am I okay with that kind of hunger; to be ‘full but not satisfied,’ as one of my favorite Bethel songs proclaims? With all my heart, yes. Because the longing keeps my focus on the One whom it was meant for…Jesus. The One who allowed me even the change to experience this grace.
So, I look at Desilandra, the ten year old girl on the bench in the park, and as I hand her a worn Spanish Bible a few days after our first encounter, I pray she finds this same peace He has given me from it. By God’s incomprehensible grace was I even able to see her again. But, I guess I’m not surprised. He wanted me to give her this love letter He wrote for her. The grace He covered her with in all of that is what He used to touch my heart, and it is the same grace and love I pray over the drunk men in the streets who are searching, just like Desilandra. Just like we all are; hearts with holes. The longing is part of what unites us to one another and draws us closer to our Maker. May we receive His endless love and enter like little children, eager and yet content because of such amazing grace.
If He can use my terrible, broken Spanish to get a sweet little girl a Bible, imagine what else He can do through all of us if we just allow His hand to lead us. Endless possibilities!
