Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.
(1 Corinthians 13:4-8 ESV)
The people brought children to Jesus, hoping he might touch them. The disciples shooed them off. But Jesus was irate and let them know it: “Don’t push these children away. Don’t ever get between them and me. These children are at the very center of life in the kingdom. Mark this: Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.” Then, gathering the children up in his arms, he laid his hands of blessing on them.
(Mark 10:13-16 MSG)
I’m sitting here on the couch that belongs to the facilities of Crossing Cambodia, my new ministry for the month of July. I’m sweating pretty profusely, and I’m praying that these fans will magically turn this sticky air into something more bearable. There’s a little girl passed out on the couch across from me, probably tuckered out from a long day of playing with my things while I’ve been walking around town. She’s got lice in her hair, and she’s sprawled out all over Jourdan’s pillow and blanket.
This is my life now: playing with kids and puppies in Cambodia.
It’s no secret to my team, but maybe it will surprise you. I am not exactly comfortable when it comes to hanging out with kids. I don’t know what to say to them. I don’t really understand them. You see, I’m the youngest of four kids. I’m the youngest out of all of my family besides my cousin in New York. Before our month in Bangkok, Thailand I had never babysat. I have so little experience with children or people younger than me that it’s pretty much negligible. Therefore, you can understand why children are a mystery to me.
I’m just going to be completely honest here.
The reality that I will be spending my month entertaining street kids from 7:30am to 4:00pm is absolutely terrifying. They scream. They make messes. They throw the puppies around like dolls. They fight each other. They fight me. They drive me absolutely crazy.
I came home today and found my sleeping pad no longer covered by my sleeping bag liner and my pillows thrown around the room. I was instantly flooded with this feeling, like I wanted to come out of my skin. Like I wanted to run away before I lost my mind. I was aggravated.
I mean seriously, who do these kids think they are?
Reality check.
The two kids who live here have been abandoned by their mother.
The kids who come here everyday come because they don’t have enough to eat.
They don’t have enough of anything.
Their noses are runny.
Their clothes are dirty.
Some of them don’t even have clothes.
Most of them don’t have shoes.
In that moment when my anger and frustration was all I could feel, God whispered in my ear, “I’m patient with you.”
He’s patient with me when I throw temper tantrums.
He’s patient with me when I hurt Him.
He’s patient with me when I mess up His stuff.
He’s patient with me, even though I don’t deserve it.
“I’m patient with you. Be patient with them.”
Overnight, I probably won’t develop the motherly, nurturing abilities that Jourdan seems to possess so naturally. I probably won’t leave this month understanding kids anymore than I do now. However, I can take deep breaths and thank the Lord that He’s given me a beautiful picture of His infinite patience with me. He loves me so thoroughly and unconditionally that even when I screw up, His love never runs out.
During feedback last night Jourdan said this:
I want us to love these kids so well that by the end of the month, they’re different.
That’s the reality here. Love conquers all. It conquers poverty; it conquers abuse; it conquers sickness; and it definitely conquers anger.
This month God has given me the opportunity to stretch myself. Love like He does. See like He does. Cherish these kids’ innocence like He does. I have the chance to get over the fear that I’m not good with kids and therefore won’t make a good momma one day. I have the chance to strip myself of the label: doesn’t do well with children, and declare that I can love all of God’s people (even the kiddos) and I can do it with a patient heart.
The kids come back to us on Monday. Giddy up.
