That girl was me.
That year was my year in China.
Today, I picked up the scrapbooks my classes made for me as a "going away present". My heart absorbed the gel pen details with words of broken English. My eyes traced the details of the sweet faces in each picture. Many of their notes beg for me not to forget. If only they knew... the Father had etched them on my heart long before their faces had names. His love for them was given to me. The strongest love I have felt to this day.
I think in many ways it's a maternal love. I'm not a mom yet. However, God is a Father. A Father of His children, us. His love is poured in and through us. And that one year, He gave me an experience which awakened in my soul a love for others not felt yet. A love to protect, pray for, adore, bear with, support, and live life alongside strangers.
This love is so pure. What a gift to have spent a year being a light in darkness. Smiling when I didn't understand. Bringing optimism and joy when their tired eyes spoke of late night exam cramming. Teaching words unheard before, a language foreign. Braving the bus lines to just possibly have one chance of bettering relationships in hopes of them finding Eternity. Cringing as food unknown to me was all but forced into my mouth. Celebrating their birthdays even as it took all that's within me not to break down over the emotion of missing my own family and friends.
In today's society, it's a love that's rare. A selfless, patient, joyful love. Only possible because He first loved me. The students I taught were easy to love. I miss them deeply today. As one of them wrote,
"Distance doesn't mean separation, the longing feeling remains the same no matter how far it is"
To the ones who deeply transformed my heart.... I think of you today. May we always be aware of the Father's love that flows through us. A love not bound by time, space or distance. A love that unites and transforms. Love is a beautiful gift.
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