Baker and Glover is a trailer park that we worked in with TEAMeffort in Gainesville, GA. I wrote this earlier, but am just not getting to post it.
As I walk this road today, just as I have a thousand times before, I am greeted with so many familiar sights, sounds, smells, and feelings. I can feel the asphalt burning through my well worn tennis shoes. I can smell the stench of garbage that has needed to be taken away since the beginning of the summer, mixed with the smell of the tacos being made by the lady down the road. I can see the faces of many children I play with daily, peering out the window to see if it is ok to come play again. I hear the banging of hammers on nails as some of our work crews get started, just as mine needs to do, but I am in search of one thing. It is a necessity before we can begin, a thing I cannot work without.
Suddenly I see it in the distance, it is slowly getting bigger and bigger, and it’s getting closer and closer. It is jesus, the boss of my jobsite. We both burst into full sprint and as soon as he is close enough he jumps into my arms and clings to me as if he intends to never let go. I feel a wave of energy and love crash through my body. His smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all morning. Suddenly I realize that I have been so caught up in my search that I have ignored the group. I look over to see them all smiling, but obviously feeling left out. I ask him to tell them his name, but he becomes shy. I ask him to show them his missing teeth, but he buries his face in my neck. He looks to me for protection. Throughout the summer I have gained his trust. jesus is a 6 year old boy who lives in the neighborhood, whose house we worked on several weeks ago. We built a wheelchair ramp for his brother with Down syndrome and now our special job is to build a doghouse, specially requested by Jesus, for his dog Princess.
Here is what most people see in jesus; he is missing his two front teeth, he has a freshly cut mohawk, his family does not have much money, he whines a lot, and he has really bad morning breath.
But here is what I see… I see a boy who needs and desires attention, a kid who is hungry because he ate no breakfast, but even more he is hungry for my love and the love of God. He loves to listen to me tell him stories, he loves it when I let him paint with us, or when I taught him how to use a hammer. He wants my approval more than anything, and he becomes ecstatic when I let him have the change from the console of my car; what’s even better is when I take him for a ride around the neighborhood, either in my car or on my shoulders. He has become too big to be held for long periods of times, but yet I still am willing to hold him for hours on end, even when it’s inconvenient. He has become my heart beat and I love him more than I ever thought I would. After finding Jesus we set out to get the youth started working. We assign people to different jobs: painting, building a roof over the deck, building a slide, building a picnic table, and building the doghouse, with the special help of Jesus and me. I send everyone to get the tools for their jobs and to divide the lumber, jesus restates my orders. He decides that he needs his very own hammer, and insists that he needs the blue one, which happens to be the biggest one on the jobsite. I reluctantly let him carry it but remind him to hold it with both hands so he doesn’t drop it on his toes. I go around the corner to pour some paint for a girl. As soon as I get the cap off I hear a high pitch scream and then what sounds like a puppy wimpering. I drop the paint lid and race around the corner to see Jesus trying not to cry, as the youth group kids circle around him. As soon as he gets a glimpse of me he bursts into tears and comes towards me hopping on one foot, with his sandal dangling off the other foot. I pick him up and ask what happened. Now he is sobbing and cannot answer me so a kid from the group informs me that he dropped the hammer on his toes. I feel his grip get tighter around my neck, and I begin to rub his back to try to calm him down. I whisper in his ear, “It’s ok. You’re alright, I’m here now. I love you!” His response is, “But you’re leaving me soon.”
I don’t know what to say. Was he crying because his foot was in pain, or his heart? Who had told him when we were leaving? Had he over-heard the staff talking about going back to school? I am broken-hearted, because as much as I am denying it, the end of the summer is fast approaching which means I have to tell jesus bye. But now he knows it and just like me is dreading the day I pull out of the neighborhood for the last time this summer. Not knowing if I will see him again. Not knowing if there is a chance his parents could be deported back to Mexico, not knowing if he knew how much I love him, or more importantly how much God loves him.
The rest of that day I don’t ever put him down again. The only change was whether he was on my back or my hip. It kills me to leave him for lunch even though I know I’ll be back in only an hour. He helps me instruct the youth group and repeatedly tells them that he is my helper and that sometimes I let him be the boss. When it started pouring down rain he instructs me to get under the canopy so we can stay dry, but then begs me to go back out to rescue his friend’s puppy. He gets popsicle juice all over me along with the gray paint that is supposed to end up on the house. I am a wreck at the end of this day, dirtier than ever and exhausted from having an extra 50 pounds attached to me, but my heart is filled with joy, knowing that I spent just about every moment with sesus trying to show him God’s love. It is now time to leave, and my eyes begin to tear up, even though we will be back tomorrow. Jesus is of course in my arms and he notices my tears and tries to wipe them from my eyes, “Don’t cry Christina. I love you.” This only makes me cry more as I tighten my grip around him, kiss him on the cheek, and whisper in his ear, “I love you so much jesus.” He responds with, “I know.” Kisses me on the lips and then rests his head on my shoulder, with his face buried in my neck. I cry as I walk down the road to his house, but he does not know this, he is just happy to be with me and resting in the fact that I love him.
But what if I daily say, "I love you so much Jesus." talking about my Savior? What if I rest in God's love for me? What if I truly experience His protection? What if when I'm weak I let Him be strong? What if I allow Him to heal the broken places? What if I stop fighting and let Him hold me like I held jesus? Jesus was able to rest in my love, knowing that no matter how many miles between us I will love him. In the same way I can rest in the love of Jesus Christ and know that even though I’m not at camp where we have worship services every day, His love will follow me wherever I go. All the spoken and unspoken questions are things that He will take care of and will reveal the answers to me in His perfect timing.
So I was trying to show Jesus my love, while he was really teaching me about God’s love.
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