Mom’s rocking a sleepy baby, Abigail’s helping the girls with homework.
I’m holding onto a very rambunctious little fellow who’s trying to eat crayons.
I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I’m starting to wonder why I’m even here.
Then I hear it: “Yo tengo gozo, gozo, gozo, gozo en mi corazón!” Juan Carlos singing. Not just any song, either, a Jesus song. Mom hears it too. She smiles.
That’s a Jesus song! We taught him that!
I want to jump up and down, screaming and flapping my arms around like a crazy person. Instead, I smile so big and hard my cheeks start to hurt and my eyes water.
It’s these little victories.
It’s every time they hand me sheet of paper with multi colored scribbles and say “para vos, pues.”
It’s when they reach up with their chubby little hands and want me to lift them out of their crib.
It’s those days I get them to talk about how school’s going and why they love science.
It’s watching their faces when we get there each week… and when we tell them we’re coming back next week, too.
It’s this stuff that seems insignificant, that makes it worthwhile.
It’s these kids, and their trust and their love, that show me just how important this is.
With 168 hours in a week, two hours every Friday doesn’t seem like much.
And in a world filled with 147 million orphans, thirty-two kids don’t seem like a lot.
It’s impossible for us to make a difference on our own. But with God…
He’s going to change their lives. In big ways, in ways we can’t understand.
We’re just his hands and feet.
So maybe thirty-two is just a few.
It still leaves a huge percentage of orphaned children unreached. Of the 147 million orphans in the world… we’re reaching less than a millionth of one percent.
But guess how many God is willing to reach, by working through any of us?
Yeah. All of them.
