There is no better pain in the world than when your face hurts from smiling too much. This pain was experienced in the middle of Bulawayo, Zimbabwe during a picnic. The team and I were waiting with anticipation to meet a group of orphans to celebrate two of their birthdays. They were about forty-five minutes late, but that was okay because a hundred little African hands were waving at us from a few yards away. There was a huge group of kids that were there on what we assumed was a school field trip. Some children would hide behind things, wave at us, and then hide again. When we would wave back, we heard rich laughter. In that moment, I was reminded of why I am here. I am here to share the love of Jesus, even with a simple smile and wave.
When our friends got there for the picnic on "Africa Time", we played with them. In the middle of an intense game of tag, a little boy fell and hurt himself. I took him back to our picnic spot and sat him on a log, giving him the perfect combination of tender, love, and care. As tears flowed from his eyes, I tried to think of how I could make him feel better. I thought back to when I was his age. My mother would always kiss me and somehow, like magic, I was immediately better. I kissed the little boy's arm and said, "There, all better?" He nodded and within thirty seconds was up tagging people again. Suddenly, it struck me that he did not have a mother to kiss him when he was hurt. All he had was Aunties and temporary visitors who, like me, come and go.
When our friends got there for the picnic on "Africa Time", we played with them. In the middle of an intense game of tag, a little boy fell and hurt himself. I took him back to our picnic spot and sat him on a log, giving him the perfect combination of tender, love, and care. As tears flowed from his eyes, I tried to think of how I could make him feel better. I thought back to when I was his age. My mother would always kiss me and somehow, like magic, I was immediately better. I kissed the little boy's arm and said, "There, all better?" He nodded and within thirty seconds was up tagging people again. Suddenly, it struck me that he did not have a mother to kiss him when he was hurt. All he had was Aunties and temporary visitors who, like me, come and go.
Pray with me for these beautiful African children to find a parent in our Father God
who can give them a love full of unforeseen kisses that they could have never
had with an earthly mother or father.
-Alex