A Rowdy Ruckus

One thing that is true about the children I get to spend my days with now, is that they are rowdy, loud, passionate little humans who have lived a lot of life. The school is fairly new as it goes, and the children who attend are benefiting from the way the culture of family is developing. There is laughter amidst heartache, joy in the middle of sorrow, and the ability to love in the middle of a mess.

Everyday, the bell rings and the children bolt from their classrooms like wild horses to get their morning porridge. Most of them have the goal of sucking it down so they can use the extra time to run around the compound, chase one another, and in general, rough house their way to the next lesson. Because the compound was once a family dwelling, there are nooks and crannies where children will hide and seek their way into mischief at times. One such time was this week when I heard a lot of children and a lot of ruckus. I imagined the chase had not gone according to someone’s plans. These children have no problem fighting out the details, sometimes with words. On this particular day, in the middle of the mess, I heard loud wailing and crying as well. I listened to see if it would quickly go away as it sometimes does, but on this day, it got louder and louder, and my heart knew I needed to go and investigate.

As I rounded the corner, I saw my sweet friend I’ll call “J”. He is one of the special ones God has placed in my life. A true orphan, with a difficult history, and disposition to match, he has my heart. I first found him in reading groups, crying because he did not get the chair in which he wanted to read. He was headed for trouble with the teacher, but I quickly whisked him away for one on one time in his classroom. I asked if he and I could read a book together and after much deliberation, he chose a book about a dog and his boy. We are almost finished with this book now, but the words on the page matter nothing compared to the prospect of seeing his heart come alive.

...And to think it all started with a tantrum that is unbefitting to an older child, but not at all unusual for a child who has learned that he has to fend for himself. What if he learned he had a father he could trust to take care of all of his needs?

Case in point, earlier that earlier that morning I had prayed fervently for time to connect with children amidst the very busy school day, and for someone specific to love on. Seeing my “J” sitting there in a heap, I was overcome with my Father’s loving and faithful answer to my prayer and of course, compassion. In some schools of thought, his behavior often gets him what he deserves but I know better. I sat down and hugged him close, trying to figure out what had happened, and a flock of children immediately surrounded me, each one yelling “teacher, he did_” or teacher she did_” Everyone wanting to weigh in on the event that had caused such a commotion. In the gathering, they all tried to find space under my arms and on my lap to get the same level of attention I was giving to “J”. Alas, there was no more room in the inn. So I gave out smiles, hugs, love and prayers as best as I could and tried to get “J” mended heart and soul in the brief time I had. He and another friend lingered as long as they could to soak up all that love, and I thanked God for answering my prayers. YOU are ALL a part of this love.

May the Father take our arms, smiles, hugs and attention and multiply it like He did the fish and the loaves for the five thousand, and….may all the children be fed.

Thank you SO much for the prayers and support you continue to show me and these children in Uganda.

Brave love to you all.