i don’t speak creole. i can barely recall the basics of the french i took in high school even when i try my hardest. i can only say my name in sign language. yet God chose me to be His voice. He sent me. i am not qualified, but He called me to be part of His story of redemption and reconciliation.
i wrestled with the desire to speak words of life and hope last week without knowing creole, but God is bigger than language. so much bigger. i was His voice even when all i could do was smile and hug. when the english words i whispered in prayer were not understood by the children nestled into the crook of my neck. oh, the sweet sound of little voices speaking their native tongue in my ear.
i wonder how often they are held this way instead of being the ones to hold younger siblings. i wonder if they know how valuable and precious they are. i sway and hold tightly longing for my touch to bring life and hope to these littles. i pray they feel His touch, hear His voice, and know His love. i pray He protects them from hurtful hands and degrading touch.
[can't remember this little's name]
yes Jesus, protect them. hold them. love them. speak Your truth into their hearts and minds. let them know they are beautiful and belong only to You—that they are not a possession but a treasure bought with the greatest price.
live unashamedly :: laugh uncontrollably :: love unconditionally