“Kutemwa, Kutemwa. Wake up,” I awoke to in broken English to
see a face staring at me while I was sleeping off the exhaustion from the
sickness attacking my body. At first I thought something was wrong, but then
she points to my journal and asks to draw. That’s how we communicated. Through
a mix of broken English and her local language and pictures. Lots and lots of
pictures. My journal was filled with pictures that still bring me to tears. I
went through 3 pens in 3 weeks, but I didn’t even care. It was worth not being
able to write to have my pages filled with the beauty of her drawings.
I get up and sit on the floor to watch her face light up
while she is drawing. The joy literally radiates out of her. Her smile and
laugh as I tell her she is precious, even if she doesn’t understand what that
word means. Since this can go on all day, I decide to get up and walk out to
see the rest of my village family outside the hut. First thing I am greeted by
is being asked if I need tea or more medicine or something to help me feel
better. I smile and wish they could truly realize how much just sitting with
them brings so much joy and Light.
A few hours later, I sit on the steps watching a little
girlie continuing to draw and laugh at my pictures while watching another
girlie cook on an open fire after being in school all day. Her servant heart
shines through along with the deep joy and peace with being in this place. His
grace is all I can think about while watching them.
Days went by spending time with them, loving on them but
being so overwhelmed with love and joy back. Then I had to say goodbye. I knew
it wouldn’t be forever, but yet for a time. Weeks passed turning into months.
Months turning into two years. I prayed for both of those girlies every night.
I heard updates occasionally and how school had gone each semester, but I just
wanted to give them a hug. I wanted to see for myself that they were being
given the opportunity to accomplish their dreams.
Two years later, my heart shattered for both of them.
Situations young girls should never have to be in, these girlies were put in. And
because HE is faithful, just a few weeks later, God brought me back to see
them. After all the pain and heartache one precious girlie had endured, the joy
and laughter shared was simply HIS grace. His joy. And oh my definitely HIS
love. But my heart broke after seeing the other precious princess who used to
draw me pictures and be filled with so much joy. She was broken, and her smile
was gone. I could feel a tiny piece of HIS pain and hurt for HIS daughter. And
as I sat there crying and questioning why, I started to understand a bit more.
A few years ago I prayed continually for my heart to be broken
for what breaks His. It is only a really tiny part of what breaks His Heart,
but yet it overwhelmingly broke mine. And it made me realize as much as we hurt
and cry for the people we love, HE hurts and cries that much more. HE is
holding them. HE is their Rescuer and Redeemer.
Because sometimes I just need to let pieces out in order to
process the whole.
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