Her full name is Nosiesway, and I often gush about her like I’m a proud grandma. Anyone one willing to listen will hear me say, “She’s perfect.” Her cheeks, her eyes, her smile were all crafted with such care. I look at her and I see the hand of God.
Nosie is kid at my carepoint. She didn’t care about me or any of my teammates, and yet I felt drawn to her. Every rejected hug just drew my heart in. I would call out her name to see if she wanted to play, and she pretended to not hear me. And somehow she still had my whole heart. When she was hurt she would wiggle from my comforting arms. Yet, I was wrapped around her finger.
Yesterday, we said goodbye to our carepoint. Nosie walked behind a kid on a swing and was flattened to the ground. I scooped her up, and she melted. Nosie’s snot and tears soaked my shirt. And it finally clicked why she meant so much to me. She treated me the same way I treated God.
I used to be indifferent to his extravagant love. I used to ignore his word. I used to ignore him calling my name. I used to fight off his comfort. Meanwhile he was ready to wear my snot, my tears, and my sin. My heart was hard toward his ooey gooey soft heart. But he was ready and willing to be my friend and comfort me.
There have been hard, hot, and long days at our carepoint. Days I wanted to quit, days I wanted to stay longer, and days I was indifferent to our ministry. Now that our time in Swaziland is coming to an end it has been need to reflect on all the people God has used to teach us, grow us, and correct us. Nosie was just one of my spiritual teachers I got the privilege of learning from here. She’s been difficult, stubborn, and hard to leave, but she’s also been one of my best teachers.
