My Side of the Story. . .

Matthew 25:40, “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”

Going in to this trip to West Timor, I (Chris) felt dry, overloaded, and quite honestly, stressed out of my mind.  Enough so, that I contemplated staying home so that I could “properly” do my job as a teacher the next week.  However, after a short visit to the Orphanage our first day in Timor, I realized that the surrounding terrain was the only thing that was dry. 

         I think that it is humorous how horribly wrong we get things when we attempt to decide what is best for us, what would bring us the most joy, or how to best “recharge” our batteries.  The more attempts I make to focus on me, in the vain hope that this “self-focus” is just what I need to be able to “better serve” my Lord, I find out time and time again that the less I focus on myself, and the more I actually focus on serving Him, the more refreshed and recharged I feel. 

         This trip was no different.  This blog post is not meant to describe an emotional “high” that often times comes from a missions trip, or a week at summer camp, that fades once the real world creeps back in.  What God did in, and through me over those three short days, I know I will not soon forget, in the many days to come.  I felt so incredibly blessed and humbled to be able to share the love that I was blessed with throughout my childhood, and am still blessed with today.  My dad always took the time to play, to get down on my level, to enter my world, to show me that he loved me.  Those memories in my childhood mean so much to me, and even today stand as solid proof that I am loved by my father in such a way that goes far beyond the words “I love you son.” My heart broke for these kids thinking about how these little boys had no man in their life to get down on their level, to enter their world, to show them that they were worth it, that they were loved.  As I mentioned already, it was a tremendous blessing to be able to be that figure for some of these kids, if only for a few short days, to show them that someone cared, that someone loved them.  Any time I would sit down, or enter a room, I would have one or two kids who would stop what they were doing, simply to sit as close to me as possible.  Huddling to my body as if the 90 degree Timor heat was as cold as the winters in Narnia, “always winter, and never Christmas.” They huddled close, obviously not for heat, indicated by my damp shirt and shiny forehead, but for the warmth that could warm a little cold heart from years of neglect.  I would put my arm around them, and hold them as close as I possibly could, looking down to meet little eyes that somehow said thank you. 

         I did my very best to enter their world, because of the father who entered my world, and our heavenly Father who entered our world.  I know it was not my love, nor did I ever want to convey my love, but the love of the Father pouring through me.  My job was to present Him with a willing heart, and He did the rest through His immeasurable grace and limitless love.  I cannot heal the pain that these kids face as they go to bed every night wondering why their father and mother did not want them, or the pain that they will face in their future as they struggle to become men without a strong father figure as a guide.  But, for a few short days, I could help share the love of a Father who has never neglected them, and has wanted them since before they were born, to rest in His arms.  For a few days . . .

         Returning home, I felt more recharged than I could remember feeling in a long time.  It is funny how when going to pour oneself out to others, it leaves more empty space for God to pour into us.  If we are never pouring out, than God has no room to fill us anew with a source of love that is in very nature God himself. 

         Please continue to pray for these children and Katie and I hope to return there next November.  Well, that’s my side of the story.  God bless.