The stained glass window in our Finca chapel.
Mark 9:37: “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me.”
I have always loved the stained-glass window in our chapel, but over the past couple of weeks, it has taken on a new meaning for me. When meditating on this verse, my prayer has always been that it would shape the way I love the children in our care: by loving each of them as if they were Jesus Himself. It has also taught me to see Jesus in the faces of all my patients. When I love them, I am loving Jesus. But recently, Jesus has been inviting me into a new perspective: in loving these children, I am not the one receiving Him; rather, He is the one receiving me.
J’s Hands Heal
The other week, I stopped by the little girls' house for a routine nursing round. When I arrived, the tía who cares for them began telling me about some neck and arm pain she had been experiencing. The night before, she said, the pain had been unbearable.
J is a nine-year-old girl who lives in the house and has taught me so much. One of the things I admire most about her is her empathy. When she noticed that her tía was in pain, she immediately went to get some ice and then began massaging the areas that hurt. The next morning, her tía told us that the pain had improved significantly.
She then looked at me, in awe of this child, and said, “Sí, las manos de las niñas sí se sanan.” Loosely translated, “It’s true, these little girls’ hands really do heal.”
And I think she was right.
Yes, when we welcome a child in His name, we are loving Him. But what I am beginning to realize is that He just wants to love us. And that is why He invites us in.
Countless times over the past two years, I have come through a hard day, feeling stressed or simply exhausted, only to have one of our children run up to me for a big hug (there is certainly no shortage of hugs around here). They are Jesus to me! That sweet head resting on my chest in a hug is my reminder to abide in His love and be received by Him.
Yes, I am holding Jesus when I hold these children. But He is also holding me. I find great comfort in holding our children, and it is because He is healing me, restoring me, and sustaining me through them.
S’s Blessing
Last week, after a spiritual event, L, a mischievous 17-year-old boy, approached me with something hidden underneath his shirt. I didn't think much of it. The kids are always up to something, teasing and playing tricks on one another.
Sure enough, just as I began to walk away, he exploded a giant water balloon right over my head.
As I turned to chase him, his six-year-old little brother, S, approached me.
S: “Rachel, that water came from God.”
Me: “Oh, really? How is that?”
S: “Because I was the one who filled the water balloon.”
Me: ...
S: Pointing at me, in the most motivational-speaker voice imaginable: “You will be blessed.”
Mic drop. Walks away.
And honestly, what can you even say to that?
What a blessing! To think we are bringing Jesus to these children, but really they bring Him to us. We come wanting to love, teach, care for, and heal them. But they end up doing the same for us.
