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