This morning was one of those times, which we all have, that I would have done anything to have had my camera with me. It would be worth more than all my words if you could hear the screaming laughter and see the smiles I experienced this morning. Since I can't show you that, I will try to explain.
Saturday mornings, for me, are not about sleeping in or grabbing a bowl of cereal and plopping in front of the TV. My Saturdays start bright and early, in downtown Fresno, in a neighborhood that has captured my heart.
For any of you who work in ministry, you have probably experienced the drought. This is the season of discouragement, frustration, and exhuastion. Its a season, that if you tough it out, leads to a deeper faith, a better knowledge of Christ, and fruitfulness. I believe that God allows these low seasons from time to time, and he uses them as a time of refining. He allows us to remain in the fire long enough to burn off the impurities, but he always knows exactly when we need to be pulled out of the fire and filled with pure, cool, living water.
Today that cool water was poured over me through a group of kids.
They were a scraggly group walking up. There were six of them; a few still in their pajamas. None had taken the time to comb their hair or put on their shoes.
Their ages ranged from 2-8. The oldest boy, Juan, was mentally handicapped. Instead of words he introduced himself to me with a big hug. Among the six of them two of the girls spoke limited english. We played a little and I was able to use my limited spanish to learn their names, ages, and how they were all related.
Although it was hot and still outside, a gentle voice reminded me about the 2 kites I keep in the trunk of my car...just incase. I asked them if they would like to fly a kite. They stared at me with blank faces. I went to my car, retrieved the kites and asked again.
Given, kites are always a big hit with kids, but I have NEVER seen such a reaction in my life. We let out the string just a few feet so they could get the idea, and off and running they went. It didn't matter whose hands were holding the kites, they ran in a group. Six barefoot kids, their little legs running as fast as they could back and forth across the field, their screams and laughter reaching to the heavens, and I felt God's heart for his kids pour over me.
They walked home this morning, a couple hours later, with messy hair, no shoes, sweat streaming down their faces, and a radiant joy beaming out of each of them. They had recieved a blessing from Christ, through a couple of kites.
Before they left I was able to learn a phrase I know I will use again.
?Queres a jugar con el papalote?
Do you want to play with the kite?