When the woes of college existence threaten to overwhelm and overpower, relief may always be found through Disney’s animated classics. Mountains of homework tower around me, and gypsies do not do well behind stone walls. I am exhausted and frustrated. This is my escape.
“He lives in you. He lives in me. He’s watching over everything you see… In your reflection, He lives in you.”
In all things, there is purpose. We are not alone. We are not abandoned. He lives.
As if that is not glorious enough, He lives in us. I am reminded of a conversation I had with one of the nannies last summer. As I was walking with her to the library so she could get another book, I asked her about the one she had been reading—what it was about, whether she had learned anything, etc. “It was about God. It says that God thinks I am beautiful. Is that true?” My heart broke a little. Yes. Yes, God thinks you are beautiful. And valuable beyond measure. In fact, God thinks you are worth dying for.
Early in the summer, I snapped at the kids one morning for no other reason besides the fact that I was tired. Later I reprimanded Johnny for losing his temper when someone broke his tent. I asked him to apologize to the victim, and he said, “But you did not have to say sorry when you got mad this morning, because you are big.” My actions had failed to reflect Him, and so in my effort to teach a child, I was reminded that a fallen world sometimes judges God by the actions of His imperfect followers. Johnny looked to my actions as a paradigm for his own, and I had failed him. I apologized to the kids. They hugged me and told me they still loved me, and in that moment of childlike forgiveness, He lived in their reflection more clearly than in mine. And so we must approach the Kingdom like a little child…
“I have often dreamed, of a far off place, where a great warm welcome will be waiting for me… Where a voice keeps saying, ‘This is where I’m meant to be.’”
“He lives in you. He lives in me. He’s watching over everything you see… In your reflection, He lives in you.”
In all things, there is purpose. We are not alone. We are not abandoned. He lives.
As if that is not glorious enough, He lives in us. I am reminded of a conversation I had with one of the nannies last summer. As I was walking with her to the library so she could get another book, I asked her about the one she had been reading—what it was about, whether she had learned anything, etc. “It was about God. It says that God thinks I am beautiful. Is that true?” My heart broke a little. Yes. Yes, God thinks you are beautiful. And valuable beyond measure. In fact, God thinks you are worth dying for.
Early in the summer, I snapped at the kids one morning for no other reason besides the fact that I was tired. Later I reprimanded Johnny for losing his temper when someone broke his tent. I asked him to apologize to the victim, and he said, “But you did not have to say sorry when you got mad this morning, because you are big.” My actions had failed to reflect Him, and so in my effort to teach a child, I was reminded that a fallen world sometimes judges God by the actions of His imperfect followers. Johnny looked to my actions as a paradigm for his own, and I had failed him. I apologized to the kids. They hugged me and told me they still loved me, and in that moment of childlike forgiveness, He lived in their reflection more clearly than in mine. And so we must approach the Kingdom like a little child…
“I have often dreamed, of a far off place, where a great warm welcome will be waiting for me… Where a voice keeps saying, ‘This is where I’m meant to be.’”
I found that place. I might have mentioned it once or twice. That “great warm welcome” will probably come in the form of kindergarten classes and dirty diapers, and honestly, I can’t think of a better one.
“Why can’t they understand the way we feel? They just don’t trust what they can’t explain. I know we’re different, but deep inside us, we’re not that different at all. You’ll be in my heart.”
I cannot explain my love for those people or that place. I know it’s not my culture. I know it’s not my language, or my customs, or my way of life, or my world. I also don’t understand why I should have to explain it. It would be so much easier to love less. It would be so much more convenient to justify a comfortable life here. It would be so much easier to turn my back on them.
I will not do that.
God has blessed me with a precious few people who have come to understand (or at the very least come to accept) that passion. What would you do for your best friend? Your little sister? Your child? The people of Kazembe and the children of that orphanage are that to me. Deep inside, we’re not that different at all.
“Hakuna Matata.”
Peace, child. He will not abandon us. Do not worry about anything—about what you will eat or drink, or about what you will wear. Have faith.
“You think the only people who are people, are the people who look and think like you, but if you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you’ll learn things you never knew you never knew.”
I impatiently await the morning when I will open the door of my room to be greeted again by cries of “Auntie Meghan!” I eagerly desire to teach and share. There is so much I want to give and provide for them. But I would be an arrogant fool not to recognize that they have much to offer as well, both in regards to who they are and to who I am. There is so much I hope to change. There is much in me that needs changed as well. God keep me humble.
“To be safe we lose our chance of ever knowing what’s just around the river bend… Should I choose the smoothest course, steady as the beating drum?... Or do you still wait for me, Dream Giver, just around the river bend?”
Safe choices are… well, safe. Comfortable. That was never promised to us.
“Aslan is a lion- the Lion, the great Lion." "Ooh" said Susan. "I'd thought he was a man. Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion"..."Safe?" said Mr Beaver ..."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”
“Why can’t they understand the way we feel? They just don’t trust what they can’t explain. I know we’re different, but deep inside us, we’re not that different at all. You’ll be in my heart.”
I cannot explain my love for those people or that place. I know it’s not my culture. I know it’s not my language, or my customs, or my way of life, or my world. I also don’t understand why I should have to explain it. It would be so much easier to love less. It would be so much more convenient to justify a comfortable life here. It would be so much easier to turn my back on them.
I will not do that.
God has blessed me with a precious few people who have come to understand (or at the very least come to accept) that passion. What would you do for your best friend? Your little sister? Your child? The people of Kazembe and the children of that orphanage are that to me. Deep inside, we’re not that different at all.
“Hakuna Matata.”
Peace, child. He will not abandon us. Do not worry about anything—about what you will eat or drink, or about what you will wear. Have faith.
“You think the only people who are people, are the people who look and think like you, but if you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you’ll learn things you never knew you never knew.”
I impatiently await the morning when I will open the door of my room to be greeted again by cries of “Auntie Meghan!” I eagerly desire to teach and share. There is so much I want to give and provide for them. But I would be an arrogant fool not to recognize that they have much to offer as well, both in regards to who they are and to who I am. There is so much I hope to change. There is much in me that needs changed as well. God keep me humble.
“To be safe we lose our chance of ever knowing what’s just around the river bend… Should I choose the smoothest course, steady as the beating drum?... Or do you still wait for me, Dream Giver, just around the river bend?”
Safe choices are… well, safe. Comfortable. That was never promised to us.
“Aslan is a lion- the Lion, the great Lion." "Ooh" said Susan. "I'd thought he was a man. Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion"..."Safe?" said Mr Beaver ..."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”
“Raise your head up. Life high the load. Take strength from those that need you. Build high the walls. Build strong the beams. A new life is waiting, but danger is no stranger here… Two worlds, one family.”
A hope, a promise, and a warning. An unconventional family. More goodbyes than any person should ever have to say. Laughter and tears, and tiny little hands in mine. Surrounded by people, but isolated by culture. Bearing knowledge but decidedly ignorant. Desperation and joy. Faith and fear. Starry nights and blazing sunrises. Termites and scorpions and snakes. Beauty beyond comparison. The least of these, and the Son of God.
Most of all, an adventure of divine proportions.
“The second star to the right, shines in the night for you, to tell you that the dreams you have really can come true.”
I will wish upon the second star to the right tonight. That poor little star is struggling with all it has to shine through the light and haze that cloaks this city’s evening sky. It’s barely there, but I can see it. It won’t quit. I appreciate that. Someday soon, the stars that twinkle down on me won’t have any trouble being seen. Someday soon, I will wish upon the Southern Cross as it graces the sky at night.
Until then, dreams and wishes and Disney songs will have to get me through.
“I've climbed the mountain, I've crossed the river
And I'm almost there, I'm almost there.”
