My husband has always felt a subtle tug on his heart drawing him to Africa, the country of Kenya, to be more specific. Two summers ago he had his first opportunity to go on a short-term mission trip to a small village outside of Kenya’s capitol city, Nairobi. Among the many children, there was a beautiful little girl name Theresea who caught his eye and stole a piece of his heart on the spot. Her eyes sparked with an infectious joy whenever she laughed and smiled. She was smart as a whip and could also sing and dance with the best of them. The following summer my husband was able to go to the same village outside of Nairobi. To his dismay, Theresea was no longer the same child. A huge scar marked one side of her face from an accident earlier that year. She had tripped and fallen right smack on a stick that impaled her cheek. In most cases, simple stitches would’ve taken care of the gash, but she was not able to get medical attention right away. When they were finally able to get some help, the quality of treatment was so poor that the botched attempts to treat the wound in fact made it worse. The scar marred her face badly, but it it made her no less beautiful. However, the events as disclosed to him did not line up with what he saw. Beyond the physical marking, her demeanor had completely changed. She still responded affectionately to him if he greeted her or gave her a hug. However, the sparkle had left, and the blankness in her eyes was heart-wrenching. Clearly something more traumatic had happened, but the most he could find out was that the scar on her face was left by a wound that did not heal properly because of the inaccessibility to proper medical treatment. My husband is not a softy by any stretch. But Theresea’s sadness broke his heart so deeply that all he wanted to do was scoop her up in his arms and cry with her. The Lord very tenderly used the experience with Theresea to give us both a taste of what the He felt over us. Circumstances in our lives during that time period had been very difficult. I don’t know about you, but that’s not the first thing I picture. Theresea had no idea how much my husband’s heart broke for her. There was nothing she needed to do...he just wanted to hold her and cry with her over whatever had taken the life out of her. Towards the end of their time in the village, he saw that Theresea had left her notebook on her desk and when he picked it up to take it to her, he saw that she had started writing a letter to him but for whatever reason did not finish. Who knows, but could it have been possible that although she didn’t quite know how to verbalize it, she recognized that my husband genuinely cared for her.❤
Posted on: Tue, 11 Jun 2013 00:07:41 +0000
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