The morning at the Children’s Home was HOT, and as it approached the heat of noon, it seemed like torture to ask them, “Do you want water? Yes or No — Look at the ‘yes’ hand if you want water.”
Of course they wanted water–the sun was blazing and there was barely a breeze. I wanted water. Were I in the States, I would have brought a sugar-free blended coffee drink with me in a disposable cup, and I probably would have thrown it away before I finished it. This realization scraped at my heart as I doled out water, one teaspoon at a time. Each child smiling, giggling or sighing in relief at their portion. I was undone…overwhelmed.
I prayed for relief from the heat–a cooling breeze, or rain–relief for the children. I’m an able-bodied adult capable of independently seeking relief. Hours later, it started to thunder and as the boys and I hustled to get the laundry off the line, one asked, “What happens to the children when they become adults?”
My thoughts raced to my Aunt Janice (who died a year ago) and the recommendation to institutionalize her, and a grandfather I never met who instead, sent her to a private school two states away–changing the trajectory of her life, her heart, her sphere of influence.
The notion that the needs of the children were too great to make a difference ensconced my soul, there was no benefactor to provide one-on-one assistance. Then my prayer was answered: the rain poured down–like tears from heaven, more abundant than my own.
“This is a large work I’ve called you into, but don’t be overwhelmed by it. It’s best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won’t lose out on a thing.” Mark 10:42 MSG