At the end of August my dad and I drove down to Orlando to see my little brother, Bryan, and be with him as he went through surgery. Prior to the trip, I had been praying and preparing, and knew that GOD was about to use the week to speak to me about something powerful: His Love. I had no idea how much I would be impacted.
I have already shared with you the experience of seeing my brother. The drama, the fainting, the joy, and the revelation. What I haven't shared with you yet, my friends, is something that happened before I even saw my Bryan. I was journaling frantically before I had even reached Orlando, in fact. And now I want to share with you another part of this revelation, and yet another piece of my heart.
It took around 9 hours (I think, my Dad would remember better) to get to our first destination in Florida. And it wasn't to see my little brother. It was to see my older brother, Jason, and his family. We arrived for a late dinner of hamburgers, and I can't tell you how excited I was. It had been nearly two years siince I had seen any of them, but my excitement didn't compare to the avalanch of enthusiasm that ran to greet me.
Eight young girls.
Did I say eight? Yes, eight!
Now, four of them are my nieces, Jason's and Tabitha's daughters. The other four are friends of the family. All of them between the ages of 3 and 13. All of them beautiful. And all of them all over me. All of them so thirsty for love and attention from their new friend or Aunt Melissa (Aunt Lissa for some, and Aunt Heather a couple times on accident). We danced with the Wii. We painted fingernails, and toenails and second and third layers. Anything so they could prolong it. Anything to not have to go to bed yet.
I wanted to love them all. A part of me wanted to move into the house and spend every day loving them, doing their hair, painting their fingernails, listening to every one of their stories. Hugging and kissing and cuddling and loving. One day was not enough for me, because I know it was not nearly enough for them. Now, believe me, these girls are loved by their parents. What I was witnessing wasn't a starvation of attention….just an expression of the desire for attention. And the rivalry was cut-throat. Sister against sister, fighting for a foot above the other. Fighting to be the one to paint my fingernails. Arguing to be my partner on the Wii. I would play the peacekeeper, but mostly I just focused on putting all of my attention on them. Pouring myself out until they were tucked into bed.
To see these things….ah…..the Love of GOD was all I could think about.
And this is what It's all about. Who knows what we'll be doing in China, but uif it's at an orphanage, it's gonna feel like that. Hut to hut in Kenya, it's gonna feel like that. With the youth in Honduras, its gonna be like that. Every day, for the rest of my life, even if I could manage the Christ-likeness to be like that, it will never be enough for what the world needs: the message and expression of Love.
Shall we give only what we can spare, or shall we give whatever its gonna take? Good question, David Platt.
This is going to take all of me. It has to.
