Do you know the trouble with sticky fingers? How they pull and climb and fasten themselves around your shoulders? How they wrap strands of your hair together and claim your arms to be extensions of their own, your body an eternal playground for tiny hands?
It can be hard loving sticky fingers. They have no understanding of space that is personal or of physical tiredness; your space is theirs and their bucket of energy is seemingly bottomless, the number of years tucked under their belts equivalent to how long, in seconds, they can go without begging you to spin them in circles again and again and again. Personal belongings become collective possessions—your bracelets become necklaces for the smallest of the masses, anklets for those closer to your size, and slingshots for those who would have nothing to do with jewelry.
But, the hardest thing about loving sticky fingers isn’t that they love to grasp your materialistic things, that you could easily leave a day of ministry missing half of what you came with or having told six different pairs of hands no, they couldn’t have your watch. It isn’t that they choose your body to cling to over that of their mother, or that they believe your arms to be canvases for their newest work of art.
The hardest thing about loving sticky fingers is how easy it is.
Your heart is immediately drawn to these children, to their light-up-a-room smiles and their I-missed-you-so-much hugs. They make it impossible not to love them, not to want to protect them and point them towards true love. No matter how many times they reach their arms out and ask you to carry them on your back, no matter how many times they pull at your earrings or break your necklaces, the Father continuously reminds you how much like Him they look. Their spirits are untainted and hopeful, wrapped in joy. So, when you show up to ministry and one of them is bruised, another is wearing the same clothes as the day and week and month before, and another just isn’t there, you feel your heart fall from your chest to your stomach. You ache for them; you cry for them. With their sticky fingers, they’ve stolen your heart.
It’s in these moments of pain and grief that the Father reminds me how He feels about me. When I come into His presence bruised and in pain, He weeps with me. When I stand before Him clothed by the same sins and weaknesses as the day and week and month before, He aches for me. When I’m just not there, the weight of being before Him too much for my fragile heart, He goes out and searches for me. He loves me, perfectly and without reservation. And, in the same way, He loves each of the children in our ministry, sticky fingers and all.
If you guys would like a more in-depth view of day-to-day ministry for my team, two of my teammates (Brooklyn and Jane) just posted blogs that describe more of our everyday schedule and ministries! Just click on their names in the my team section of this page to read more about it!
Thank you guys so much for all of your support and prayers! Being fully funded since before launch has been such a blessing for me and I praise the Lord for His provision, but a few of my teammates are still in need of donations and support! Please prayerfully consider donating to them and loving them in the way you’ve loved me! My race won’t be complete without all of my sisters running alongside me.
All of my love!
