Ok, this might come across as a little real, but day six for me was spent recovering from day five. Layla Grace and I were out for the count: she was as sick as I’ve ever seen, and I wasn’t fairing much better. We are better, so thank you to all who prayed. We’ve been a little gun shy with the food now though.
Thankfully, last night we had home-made fries as a side. It was one of those “my mind’s telling me no, but my body. My body is telling me yes.” #R.KellyForever My body won this argument.
Anyway, we spent the day doing something I would have easily paid you $75 in a bet that said I would never, ever, never ever do. We traveled with Sole Hope to a village (let me pause here and say this was not a village. The families lived in the middle of a sugar cane field. No shoes. Now homes. Very little clothing. It was a grassy dirtish field called a community space.) We pulled our caravan of three big vehicles around the corner and we were met with cheers and clapping and some very excited children. Seems ok so far?
Well, then we got into a huge circle where these children reassured me that children across the world could care less about my personal space if I seem to have something they want. In this case, all they wanted was my hand. We got into a huge circle of about 60 of us, and played song games and danced while a very efficient team set up a jigger clinic.
I want to tell you what these are, but you don’t want to know. Don’t Google it. Trust me. Just don’t. Suffice it to say if you don’t have shoes, you probably have jiggers. They need to be removed with razors. And some kids had over 50. Their feet were swiss cheese by the time the clinicians removed everything. We didn’t of course do any removing, but we played with the kids, washed their feet, took notes for the clinicians, and frankly we showed up. Something we don’t do nearly enough.
Jesus talked about how easy it is to love the lovely. But you know what’s impossibly difficult? Loving people who are rough. Fill in the blank with the toughest person for you to love (belligerent, ignorant, filthy, slutty, homeless, lacking social awareness, a kid whose feet are infested with bugs and their baby egg sacs?) I don’t know what it is for you, but I can tell you I have just experienced a pouring on of God’s grace over me.
In a million years I wouldn’t have thought I was brave enough or tough enough or whatever it takes enough to watch a man dig bugs out of a child’s feet. But I did it, because God gave me a covering of grace, and because what’s the alternative? Leave these kids here and in pain? Am I really so arrogant that I care more about my comfort in seeing their feet or washing their feet than I do about helping them get well in any way I can?
So, here’s my challenge to you. Stop declaring limits over what you will and will not do for the Lord. Do not say, “Oh man, I could never….” Instead, say, “Lord, things are about to get nuts. Help me to care more for others than my own comfort or self right now. Send me. #ohuganda I am ready.”
If you do, maybe God will let you hold a hedgehog just like this.
One thought on “We Pour Out What God Pours In”
I love this so much. Thank you for blessing me.
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