Then before I could I start telling my husband about my last day in Peru he shared this quote from Scotty Smith with me,
That's it! I used to have this narrow minded assumption of God's blessings, and then He opens this mind and showers me with truth, and my heart aches uncontrollably. I watch the dance in awe.
I see the dedication in their eyes, the skirt being held by the wind, and an audience soaking it in with pride. I humbled pride that I have not seen very often. There's another tear in my heart... the aged looking at the joy of the children.
I wonder their thoughts on the visitors from a far land because everyone is always curious of one's intent. I watch on seeing a child escape into thought.
Does he wonder where his sponsor is? Is he curious if he will ever meet them? Do they write him? Does he understand that he is truly loved?
We leave to see a home. A beautiful family taking pride in their home, toys, and items. They are grateful, they give thanksgiving for what they have, and they share with us.
The visit is short in comparison to the day, and my need to want to sit and watch lingers in my stomach. It was a moment were the only thing that I wanted to do was watch, embrace the moment, and let it tear my heart again. The empty classroom will soon be full with smiles, the picture on the wall a beautiful example of Jesus' prayer, and I just want to absorb it all with time.
Christ bowing down to his Father asking to take the cup from Him, and I begging for my cup to be filled. In the world I live in the cup gets empty quick with ungratefulness, selfish ambition, and greed. I just want it filled with truth and love. I want to see what there is, and how God is working. I expect greatness from Him and expect nothing less.
I stand alone wanting to inhale all this commotion, but then there he sits alone on the ledge. I wonder why he is alone, looking stoic at the chaos... I stand by him, and my short stature puts me to his knees. I look at him asking what is wrong, he shrugs. He seems sad, but is not really showing it, but just in his eyes. The translator intrigue by the exchange comes over, and we begin to talk. He asks about my camera, its' amount, he wonders about who we really are coming and visiting. I answer the questions, handing him the camera for a test run. I ask about his sponsor. He has one, they write, and he is happy about that.
I feel connected to him, he reminds me of my own back home. He is the oldest in the project, and he just stares off watching. I wonder he's really thinking, but I am not sure. As we go to leave I take a picture with him, give him gum, and then he asks quietly, "Can I have your number?"
Sigh... the answer must be "no." He felt the connection; he felt loved, and I can only hope that I left an impression that gives him hope for his future. My cup is full with this young man's love. He just wanted conversation and some time to talk. He indented my heart scarring it further. Lord, may you give this boy love, care after him, and let him know that a woman from Florida is praying for him daily. It was a good thing he had a sponsor because I would have snatched him up in a second, but God knew what He was doing... He was saving another one just for us!