It seems that every time I go on a missions trip or every summer at camp, one kids grabs a hold of my heart. Being here for three months, I knew it was bound to happen here, just like it has in the past. Gabby, Colten, Zoe, and Hyatt are a few of the kids who grabbed my heart and still have it. I think about those kiddos regularly and how bizarre it is these pint sized people consume my thoughts and my prayers often.
I love that Jesus uses children to show me his magnitude and glory.
The first time we headed to the Cerebral Palsy hospital I knew exactly what was going to happen. I was going to fall in love with another precious being. I did.
His name is Emerson and he is two.
He has brown eyes and dark hair. His teeth are rotten but that doesn’t rob his smile of joy. His hands are always clinched in a fist but it doesn’t stop him from squeezing my finger tightly. Some people would look at the two of us and see nothing in common. P
He’s Guatemalan. I’m American. He’s a toddler boy. I’m a (kinda, not really) grown woman. I have complete mental and physical capibilities, he has neither. Thankfully none of those things are important. Here is what we have in common.
We are both spiritual beings. We are loved equally by a perfect king. We hate being alone. We feel things. We both wear crazy socks and enjoy the presence of people. I also believe that we will both dance before Jesus in a perfect place that has been prepared for the both of us.
When I first met Emerson, the boss nurse told me his mother is 15. It doesn’t take a math genius to figure out that his mother was 13 when she had Emerson.
Thirteen.
I was confused, sad, and a little angry. Then I realized, who am I to say she’s wrong? Do I know her story? Not at all. It’s easy to sit back and point fingers at the girl who got pregnant at 13. We’re called to more than that. I decided to start praying for her regularly. For wisdom with Emerson, for encounters with Jesus, for peace in knowing her baby is being taken care of, and for a supportive family. I always wondered if she ever visited.
Well, I met Emerson’s Mom last Saturday. I was overwhelmed by the encounter and told her several times how rich my love is for her sweet baby boy. Her mother, Emerson’s abuelita, was there as well. She told me that Emerson is not her only grandchild. Emerson has a little sister. I was shocked and a flood of different emotions poured over me. What’s with this girl? Why does she have two babies at the age of 15? Then I was reminded, I am in no position to say she’s wrong. I still don’t know her story and I still don’t know her heart.
I was extremely relieved to know she does visit. Maybe she visits every Saturday, I wouldn’t know cause we’re never there on the weekends. Maybe that’s not the case and maybe that was the first time she had visited in two years.
Praise Jesus.
She visits.
Whether it’s once every two years or once a week, she visits. That is reason enough to praise Jesus.
As I walked away from the two women, I was at peace. God became more majestic in that moment because someone had put it on her heart to be there that Saturday. God knows my heart and said yes to a lot of the things I had asked for. He knew to bring her there the only Saturday I was at the hospital.
I still pray for her. I hope meeting me put her at peace as well. I hope I was able to clearly display and communicate the depth of my love for her son. I hope she is calmed in knowing her son is well taken care of.
I am continuing to pray she would encounter The Lord, if she hasn’t already. I have also began to pray for Emerson’s Dad as well. Again, I have no idea what his story is either.
Please join me in praying for this sweet boy and his family that is so desired by King Jesus.
