My wardrobe is dwindling. After five months on the World Race and wearing the same ten articles of clothing, it makes sense that there are holes in my pants. I was a smidge disappointed in Chile when I felt a draft in my leggings. Then two days later I noticed a hole in my acid washed jeans (it’s still the 90s in South America). The day we arrived in Bolivia my last pair of pants acquired two holes, right on the butt part. There’s no hiding it. My clothes are worn, ripped, and faded.
I feel gross and ugly some days. Especially on our travel days when we can’t shower because we have a 3 day bus ride adventure. When I look at myself, I look worn. Sometimes I feel unloveable because of my grungy appearance. But when we arrived in Bolivia at the Kaya boys house, I noticed these kids have more holes in their pants than I do. Most of them even have holes in their shoes.
It’s sad to see kids that are in need. At first I only saw their need for material things, (and while we are indeed working to get these spunky kiddos new shoes) but what they really need is love. Kaya takes in as many boys as they possibly can, and they do such a great job giving these kids a better life. But they love attention. Just playing futbol with the boys or finally learning all 20 of their names means the world to them. They smile and play just like regular boys. They’re beautiful children of God and they know that! They know God loves them. I’ve heard them pray. I’ve seen them at church. I’ve seen them be the hands and feet of Christ. Of course they’re boys and they’re not perfect. They come from broken homes and they all have their challenges. But to hold a sweaty, stinky 10 year old boy in your arms and to see him the way God intended you to see him, is the biggest heart melting, all the feels feeling.
So this is the reason I’m going to wear my holey clothing proudly. I know I’m more than just a raggedy looking missionary. I’m a child of God and that’s the identity I chose to wear. I’m beautiful in His eyes and to anyone that knows Him.
