Weighty

I stood at the doorway waiting to bring in the Jell-o for the game to see who could eat it the fastest through a straw.  My eyes watched the room from afar.  Looking at the wide range of emotions on the kids’ faces and seeing their reactions to counting stickers.  When I looked closer, I saw and felt hope.  These kids live at Hope House.  A House that can be filled with Hope.  An expectation of things to come, the potential for changed lives filled the room.

Suddenly, my attention turned to a cry from outside the room with commotion.  I turned to see what happened.  Katleho (above) sat on the floor crying.  I asked what had happened to find out that he had fallen forward with his head hitting the floor first.  A bump already popped out and a previous scar from another fall stood out.  My heart reached out with my hands as I tried to hold his hand.  The caretaker tried to drag him to his feet by grabbing his hand, but I went behind asking if I could carry him into the kitchen.  I picked him up, not noticing the wetness, and sat with him on the floor.  I asked the caretakers about Katleho’s seizures and if he was taking his medicine along with if he was up for adoption.

Desperately, I wanted to take him home with me along with all the other kids.  I wanted to hold them in my arms and give them the one-on-one attention they crave.  Yet, more than that, I wanted to show them that I believe in them.  I believe they can.  I don’t want to say, “I can do this for you.” I want to empower them and overwhelm them with love. To feel the weight of the glory of God and the weight of His love for them.

1 Corinthians 13:7 “Love bears up under anything and everything that comes, is ever ready to believe the best of every person, its hopes are fadeless under all circumstances, and it endures everything”