Last month we celebrated women in missions, and this month we’re giving it up for our guys! We’re having fun with images of mustaches, muscles, pipes, and the iconic World Race beard. We’ve poured over blogs from men on the field along with those of the thankful ladies serving beside them. They’re stories of fun and freedom, challenge and compassion, honor and humility. And the lasting impression we’re left with is a man who looks like Jesus.
Danny Weiss, of September 2012 K Squad, spent December of his Race in Cambodia. Through teaching and preparing for Life International School’s Christmas program Danny fell in love with his second grade class, and learned what it feels like to be a proud parent.
We arrived 10 minutes late, so I stood at the back of the open air chapel hall and searched frantically for my kids.
All of a sudden one of them saw me, turned around, and stood up. In a second the whole class was following suit, beaming with excitement and waving to me across the crowded rows of parents.
Next thing I knew, I’m snapping picture after picture, beating my way to the front of the aisles to get a better view.
I’m helping Marc tie his sash and Stepan get his tunic over his head. I tuck in Hannah’s skirt to her white angel costume, and help untie Janarrat’s bandana.
I make sure the sheep are in place and wish Sonalees good luck. I give Lysa a high five and pat Jedidia on the back as they rush to take their places.
Then they’re on stage and the music is playing. The girls are dancing, and Ryan, with the most wonderful mullet you’ve ever seen, is proudly holding the star up as high as he can.
Chyanne is as benign and unassuming as a Mary has ever been, and Makara joins the ranks as one of the very few Cambodian Josephs ever cast.
I find myself at the edge of the stage in rapt attention, snapping the same picture over and over again.
I look to my right and left, I find myself surrounded by equally absorbed parents doing the same.
Then it’s over so fast.
As I struggle to restrain myself from standing up on my bench, catcalling in typical college fashion, I realize, in my near giddy excitement, that this is what it must feel like.
I’m a parent now, in every sense of the word, except for the fact that these kids aren’t mine.
And I know now what it feels like to be so proud you wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
The kids bounce off the stage with smiles as bright as the sun, and I had to fight back tears as I start collecting costume pieces. I catch the crowns of the wise men and start draping sashes over my shoulder, and I make sure every one finds their spots again.
As I run back, my heart is racing a million miles an hour, and I find myself suddenly angry that people don’t feel this way about their kids all the time.
I look at the short time I’ve known them, only two weeks, and I think about how much I’ve fallen in love with them, how much they somehow care to trust me.
And I think about all the parents who have missed their kids perform at these things over the years.
I think about how foolish they are. If I were a parent, I would never miss a second of any of them, not for the entire world. I can’t think of anything more important.
I haven’t felt proud to this degree in my entire life. I’m proud of my kids for doing nothing but being my kids.
Let’s be honest, this was no Radio City Rockettes Christmas Spectacular.
This was little Soknay’s first Christmas on a stage without peeing her pants and the longest Juha’s ever gone without hitting anyone. It was tiny Hannah’s time to shine as the front and center dancer, and Sonalees’ big solo opportunity.
And they could have all goofed around the whole time and not sung a single word, and I still would have been just as proud.
Just to be their dad and them to be my kids. For that to be enough of an occasion to rally the troops, break out the cameras, and beam with excitement to the people sitting next to you.
I don’t know how I felt that much in such a short afternoon. But I felt it.
I see now what it means to get one more glimpse into the life of a parent, and to see a little more clearly that God’s up there right now beaming with pride at all of us.
At his children, running around doing exactly what we were created for, and that’s enough – us just being his kids.
God calls us to love on all of His children, whether young or old. Are you ready to see God’s love for the kids in His nations and learn what it feels like to be a proud parent? Check out our upcoming routes and answer His call.
