Tiny little fingers. They were covered in grey paint and belonged to a dark-haired little boy whose laugh made my heart flutter. He loved to help me with projects, sing songs and dance whenever music was on. His voice was quiet and sweet, but strongly proclaimed his faith in Jesus. At first glance, his eyes alone could melt anyone’s heart, but when he put his tiny little fingers in mine, I suddenly fell for a love that would one day break my heart.
Going into my first month on the mission field, I was placed in a children’s home in India. We arrived and had an orientation where the long-term missionaries warned us not to spend too much time with any individual child because they formed attachments easily. As a team, we prepared ourselves to restrict the amount of physical contact and one on one time we had with any given child. What we didn’t prepare for, however, was the degree to which our hearts would be given over to the children we worked with on a daily basis.
For me, it was that dark-haired little boy who stole my heart and wrecked the thoughts I had in my mind that it would be easy to leave each country. You see, as a short term missionary, in each place we go, we are expected to give our entire selves over to the ministry and people that we meet. We love, pray for, work with and grieve for all of the people that we meet, but each of us always tends to form a relationship or two that are harder to leave than others. It is like preparing yourself every single month to love someone with everything you have, while simultaneously knowing that in three and a half weeks you will have to say goodbye. You see, that is the problem with falling for a temporary kind of love; it is heartbreaking and amazing all at the same time. For every moment you wonder how you could possibly give your heart to someone you know you will have to leave, there is also a moment of wanting to love that person with all you have because you know your time there is short and there is no promise of longer.
My first departure left my heart aching, and my mind questioning how I could possibly do this ten more times. The day we said goodbye to the kids in India was rough. Rough in a way that was so incredibly unexpected. Those same little fingers, the ones covered in grey paint, the ones that used to reach for my arms when I walked into a room and grabbed at the hem of my shirt to get my attention, those same little fingers were the ones that pushed my hug away and the same ones attached to the little body that turned away from me and began to cry.
I walked out of his house in tears. My mind was racing with questions, and my heart was breaking because of the four year old who had just refused to look in my direction. I begged myself to keep walking. To keep walking down the street and away from the house that held the child that I had fallen in love with. It was hard. No, it was impossible, but somehow I put one foot in front of the other and kept walking away. I told myself that it was better this way. That it was better if he didn’t see my tears, and that sometimes love means sacrificing yourself for others. But the truth is that he was just as sad as I was, and I felt like another person coming into his life for a brief moment and walking out again. In case you don’t know, that is a really awful feeling.
India was not the only country that I have left pieces of my heart. In each new place, and with each new group of people, a small part of my heart has been left behind. My prayer is that the love I leave and the love that I take with me turns into something beautiful. That every single hug, smile, and “I love you” grows into something more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
Love is hard. It doesn’t come with an instruction manual. Sometimes it touches down like a whirlwind and leaves you wondering which way is up. It is beautiful and wonderful, but also complicated and heart wrenching. And the craziest thing about it is that we choose it anyway. We choose to love with our whole hearts and make ourselves vulnerable, because at the end of the day, it is so worth it.
XOXO,
M
P.S. Feel free to comment and let me know your thoughts!
