Caroline Ritchey of September 2014 J Squad woke one morning in Haiti to the sound of the electricity going out. As the heat of the day began to build, so did her distress over a thought she couldn’t shake – that she only deserved leftovers in the Kingdom of God.
*Photo by Hannah Schwab
I woke this morning as the power cut out at 4:00am. The sound of the fans faded into an eerie silence that foretold of the heat soon to build up in our quarters.
I noticed a nagging in my mind, a lie of the enemy. It kept repeating itself over and over again: “God gives you the dregs. The leftovers. You can give Him your life, but once He sorts out all the resources… you get what you get.”
It is ridiculous right?! I know very well that God as our Father loves to give good gifts to His children! That the resources of heaven are not limited!
I pushed the thought away and went to work on laundry before breakfast. As I washed, I thought of all the times in the past I did without. I thought of all the times this year where it may be the same. We don’t know what ministry we will work with until the morning of. So what if I keep getting stuck doing the ones I am not good at? What if I just have to muddle through without complaint because that is the good Christian thing to do? What if I feel guilty because I am a pretty selfish missionary? Also, food. There are dregs there too right? How many days of cereal and PB&J?
In a land of the harshest poverty, I have a selfish flesh that wants more and more from God. He gives me the Kingdom on earth and I call it the “Leftovers”! I felt ashamed.
I worked in the clinic before lunch sorting the drugs in the clinic’s dispensary (dropping almost every pill bottle, not figuring out labels, and feeling totally useless) and following lunch I was told that I was being switched over to another village ministry for the afternoon. We were going to a village by the ocean to invite children to the playground for fun and fellowship. Honestly, village ministry isn’t my strong suit. I would much rather paint or plant something. Handing out food…that’s a good one. But there is something difficult for me as far as trying to interact with kids. Perhaps the language barrier, or perhaps I am just awkward. But, I kept my head up and we hit the dirt roads gathering the children.
*Photo by Stephanie Bernotas
I did a few awkward “hellos”, “how are yous”, “what’s your names?” in Creole, and even tried to play but I just struggled. (It doesn’t help that the kids keep asking for every possession I carry…even down to the hair ties.) Then comes the guilt of being a bad missionary.
Next thing I know, someone handed me their baby sister so that they could play on the merry-go-round. As I rocked the baby, she fell asleep in my arms, thumb in her mouth. A squad mate I’d shared my struggle with at breakfast came up to me, showed me a photo she took of the little girl’s sleeping face, and said, “THIS is not a leftover from God.” I thanked her, hugged her, and turned to a wall to let the tears flow as I kept humming for the little one.
This girl is proof that God always has the best for us.
We don’t see it all the time, but it’s there. And I am grateful beyond measure.
I spent the rest of the time at the village getting my hair played with/turned into a giant knot by a couple girls, and playing tickle tag with the boys. Then after dinner, God showed me another “not-leftover” moment in an amazing sunset.
*Photo by Meg R. Thomas
What I have gotten from today is that, when Satan tells us we’re only getting God’s second best, his left overs, we need to stand on the word of God and force ourselves to see the truth: God always has the best for us.
You can read more about Caroline’s journey here. Interested in going on the World Race? Click here to apply!
