On our last Friday afternoon in Lira, my team was invited to go over to a center for disabled individuals (primarily children) to play soccer with the mothers who work there. Having devoted my athleticism to ballet and swimming growing up, I chose to stay away from the high contact sport. Instead, I sat on the sidelines with the kids, far far away from the fast moving ball.
Initially, I sat with a little boy with an unknown disorder named Allen. His head was nearly double the size of an average head and appeared to be around 4 years old. After a few minutes, he was taken away to be bathed. So, I focused my attention on a little pantsless guy with a broken foot. Unfortunately, as soon as he realized that the person he was sitting next to was a muzungu (white person), he started shrieking at an impressive decibel.
So I moved as far and quickly as possible. I ended up next to a girl around 6 years old. She lay in the grass without moving. I focused all of my attention on her, no longer feigning interest in the soccer game. I stroked the child's hand, but she did not acknowledge me. I helped her to sit up and smiled at her as she faced me, but there was no reaction. I moved her onto my lap where I could hold her and lavish her with affection, but still, my attempts to interact went unacknowledged.
After nearly 30 minutes of coddling this beautiful, unresponsive, nameless child, her tiny fingers wrapped around mine. She began to push my hand back and forth, and smiled when I touched her face. The joy that came to me from getting a reaction, no matter how small or subtle, consumed me. The giggles and laughter from the children next to me were nothing compared to the small smile that splayed across the lips of the child in my arms. It felt like I had loved her so hard for so long, and she was finally receiving it!
Later that day, as I journaled about my time that afternoon, I was struck by a realization.
God has been perusing me relentlessly for my entire life. He is constantly stroking my hand and helping me to sit up, yearning for me to respond to Him. For years, I have ignored his attempts to be prevalent, oblivious to the great lengths he is going to just to see me smile. As focused as I was on the child who I held in my arms, He is even more focused on me! The joy that I had when I got a response from the sweet girl, He experiences when I acknowledge Him! The love that I lavished on that tiny child for 2 hours is incomparable to the love that he has been pouring onto me for my entire life.
So, with the realization penned into my notebook, a permanent reminder, I have made a conscious effort over the past couple of days to be aware. Where am I oblivious to the Lord's work in my life? In what ways am I ignoring His constant pursuit of me? How have his efforts gone unnoticed? And then how can I respond, showing Him that I see and appreciate his love and pursuit?
As I focus on these things, I find that my days are filled with the joy I felt as my hand was held and my love acknowledged with a grin. Not because I am the pursuer, but because I am the pursued!
