The Bear Hug

I love kids. I love to see them smile. I love to hear them laugh (even if it is at me). I love spending time with them and I love being a part of their world. This passion has not only followed Sandy and I here to the D.R. but it has intensified as we have seen the plight of the children here. We have spent much of our time here trying to build relationships with the children in the poorest areas of our city (La Vega). And, we have often wondered how effective we can really be without the ability to speak Spanish fluently. Will we make a difference? Is our broken Spanish getting anywhere with these kids? Will people think this is worth our time? The list of questions could go on. However, it is no coincidence that we have had our doubts when you look at these questions. They all have to do with us. I think the reason why many of us have doubts and the reason why many of us have fears is because we ask the wrong questions. If we learned to ask the right questions, our doubts might just disappear. Will God make a difference? Is God able to speak to these kids even though I cannot? Does God care if others think this is worth my time? You see, the answers to these questions are obvious. There is no room for doubt when the focus is taken off of ourselves and shifted to our God. My ability to build relationships with these children, in fact, has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with Christ in me. It has everything to do with love. I am not talking about Valentine’s Day love; I am talking about cat of nine tails, crown of thorns, cross bearing love. I am talking about a love that says, “Grace is not just the prize that comes with your Cracker Jack faith, grace is what reached out and saved you in the first place!”

Just the other day I was walking through Arinoso (an area Sandy and I have committed to visiting weekly) with some of the same doubts and fears I shared with you earlier. I was looking for a particular girl by the name of Maria. The last time that we were there visiting she was insistent that we return the following week. So insistent that she had said, “No viene, te mato (If you don’t come, I’ll kill you).” I was worried that I had missed her when all of the sudden I looked up to see her bolting from the front door of her cinder block home. She nearly tackled me with a bear hug that easily rivals any I have ever received. My broken Spanish was not an issue in that moment. In fact, all of my doubts, fears and sins were not an issue in that moment. God’s grace and love had prevailed over all things right there in that hug and I learned an important lesson. This has nothing to do with me!