He pulled his grubby fist
from the pocket of dirty, torn shorts.
With pensive dark eyes, he examines his treasure, and then holds it out
to me for a look. It’s pieces from an electrical
part he might have found among the trash littering the side of the dirt road. I think he wants me to identify them, maybe
put them together and make them work. I
can’t; instead I smile, rub his head and watch him scamper off, returning the
random pieces to the only place in his shorts that doesn’t have holes.
He keeps carrying pieces,
wanting to find their value and meaning.
We do too.
We just spend the last six
weeks among my family and friends in Colorado and Phoenix. We ate yummy foods, laughed to tears, talked
late into the night hours, prayed, encouraged one another with stories of God’s
amazing grace. I left for Kenya, still
needing rest but content with the time spent enjoying those who love me
well. As the plane lifted for the long
journey across the world I realized many pieces of me were left behind. I pondered how many pieces of you I carried
with me.
Carrying
pieces. Like the little boy with his
treasure of electrical bits, we carry pieces - pieces of those our lives have rubbed against that find homes inside
us. We might not truly understand what relationships
really mean this side of heaven yet I do know conversations with kindred faiths
along the San Juan River, in the few houses warming the valley of Rainbow
Drive, over grilled burgers and African sideshows, in churches, on decks, in
coffee shops, and even the grocery store parking lot deepens my walk with
Jesus. We share pieces of who He is in
each of us, like children exchanging treasures, and we scamper off to live,
carrying more of Him to into the next encounter.
Carrying pieces. We’ve carried pieces of you all from Jesus
back to this beautifully challenging place, to the hovels of the poor, to
widows and orphans. We bring the
tenderness of lingering embraces, the giggles from clever jokes, the wisdom,
the intercession, the help of sturdy friends with resilient hearts, the
donation and support, the strong words and belief that our lives make a
difference in the Kingdom of God.
Carrying pieces. Like my little boy with his treasures hidden
in a safe spot of his tattered life, we desire the pieces we carry to bring
meaning, to reveal value. We might not
grasp how these pieces all fit together to work miracles of redemption in the
lives of the fatherless, but we see the One who does. We’re grateful for the piece of you He entrusted to us,
for the peace He gave us to
carry.
Asante sana for all your love, prayers and support.
hugs from the haugers oooo
