During our second week of ministry in Panama, we had the incredible opportunity to visit the indigenous Ngobe comarca. As we drove up the mountain into the heart of the comarca (a slightly terrifying drive that felt a little too much like a roller coaster ride, by the way), I was overwhelmed by the beauty of God’s creation. It was crazy! But the natural masterpiece we were living in was just a fraction of the beauty of our stay with the Ngobe.
Every day at the comarca, we would head over to the school after breakfast to gather children and run a Vacation Bible School for them. We’d sing songs, teach a story from the Bible, do a craft, color, play games, and just love on the kiddos. Every morning we’d start with just a few children, and by lunchtime our numbers had multiplied by at least five. Almost all of the children would then follow us back to the base for lunch and spend the rest of the day there with us. Then they’d walk home around 8 or 9, most of them alone with only the stars lighting their way. The majority of these kids didn’t have dads, and most of the culture did not value loving affection and attention as a necessity for children. So we served as loving parent-type figures for them during our stay in the comarca.
God gave me such a heart for these children. If you know me, you know I love all children and any chance to play with them, but this was different. I didn’t just love these Ngobe niños in an “aw, they’re so cute and fun” sort of way; I loved them in an almost fatherly way. God filled my heart with His Heavenly Fatherly love for them. And it was such a joy and a privilege to put gigantic smiles on each child’s face and allow them to feel so loved.
Then on the second day, God broke my heart.
About halfway through the morning, a new little boy showed up. He had sores all over his forehead and arms, a swollen belly (probably from worms), a constantly runny nosey (like almost every other child in the comarca), and was clearly very hungry. I got a pit in my stomach and felt like I was choking on my tongue. I loved him so much already, and it just wasn’t fair that he was in such poor health. My heart wholly ached for him and all the other kids in this tribe. I prayed for healing and wholeness over this little boy every day. That Friday I fasted in intercession for all of the kids of the Ngobe comarca. But I wished I could do more to tangibly help them in the short time I was there.
I was having a hard time wondering if I was actually making a difference. Was loving on them for a few days and then leaving helping or hurting? Was praying for them really doing anything? But then as I looked over the vastness of the Lord’s marvelous creation on our last morning in the comarca, I came to understand in my heart a truth I’ve known only in my head for far too long: it’s not me, it’s God.
By the end of our stay, the little boy who was covered in sores was noticeably healing much faster than normal; God was healing him. And despite the relatively rough conditions all of these kids were growing up in, God filled them all with so much joy, reflected by their adorable smiles. They were able to feel God’s love through us.
The thing is, Jesus was constantly on the move during His ministry, but that didn’t stop him from impacting thousands of lives. Why? Because He loved. He loved God, and He loved people. His faith in the power of His heavenly Father was enough to pour the Lord’s love into every single person he encountered, even if only for a moment. Peoples’ lives were changed, their worlds were rocked, their hearts were never the same. All because Jesus never wasted a chance to love a child of God. I want to live like that.
