Time is weird.
I’m already on month 2 of my Race and loving every second of it.
And I think I’m starting to figure out what this whole World Race thing this is about.
With that said,
When we found out we were going to a special needs orphanage in Guatemala, everyone on my team, including myself, thought that I was going to be in “my element.”
This was my thought process, and I think some of my teammates’ about me as well.
“Since my sister has Down’s syndrome, that means that I automatically have patience and love for every special needs person. That means I know how to interact with all people with special needs. This month is going to be a breeze for me.”
Hannah and I, Easter, 199?? 🙂
I can’t help but think that God chuckles at my thoughts sometimes.
My sister is… just that. My sister.
I grew up with her.
I know her.
I obviously love her.
Hannah and I right before I left for the Race, 6/2012
I understand my sister, she can hold conversations.
She can feed herself.
Dress herself.
She’s super independent.
Hannah at her high school graduation, 2009.
It kinda hit me like a ton of bricks, when I first saw the kids here, and realized that I didn’t feel that instant connection. I didn’t feel that instant love.
Honestly, I was overwhelmed.
Some can’t walk.
Some drool constantly.
Some pinch you.
Some can’t feed themselves.
Some need diapers changed.
Most can’t communicate with words.
I felt more pity than anything.
I am so not in my element.
I knew that the way I was feeling wasn’t right.
My spirit was restless.
I knew I wasn’t looking at them through the lens of Christ.
So for the first couple days, I was praying…
“Father, give me a supernatural love for these children.”
Over and over and over.
Then on Sunday, I decided to go sit on the swing with Nancy. Nancy is 19. She has Microcephaly. She constantly makes sounds, and drools, a lot.
Nancy. Photo Credit, my squadmate, Miranda Brinsa
I wanted to love her.
More than that, I needed to love her.
So I sat.
And I swung.
And sat.
And swung some more.
As we were swinging I looked at Nancy, and she looked at me.
We locked eyes for the first time.
She stopped making sounds.
And I stopped seeing her disability first.
I promise you, I saw Jesus in her eyes.
I saw her as a beloved princess of the Most High King.
There was this supernatural love that was communicated just through staring in each others eyes.
This is what I’m talking about, “figuring this World Race thing out.”
The World Race is about so much more than traveling, evangelizing, and preaching to people. Not that those things aren’t fun and important, but it’s really about those precious moments where you see Jesus in the eyes of someone that you can’t communicate with.
It’s about the integrity, honor, and character that develops when you wake up at 5:30 am everyday to bathe and dress the children that can’t do it themselves.
It’s about the sadness and brokenness you feel when you realize you can’t do anything to help a single dad of two children, both with disabilities, get the attention and services they both need.
It’s about shaking everything you thought you knew about God, life, and love, and making you “show up for your life,” every single day.
It's about supernatural love.
I’m far from having it all figured out,
and I don’t think I will ever get there,
and I don’t think I’m supposed to.
But the journey sure is beautiful.
Helen, Photo Credit, Miranda Brinsa
Nancy, Photo Credit, Miranda Brinsa
Andrea, Photo Credit, Miranda Brinsa
