Yesterday my day quite literally began and ended playing Play-doh with some of the little ones of the world. And, partially because of the Play-doh, it was truly one of the best, most overflowing-with-joy days, but it was also insightful. I spend a lot of time with a lot of different kids in a lot of different contexts. But a blanket statement that could easily apply to all is this: I guarantee that the kids I get to work with teach me boat loads more than I could ever teach them.
Tuesdays, like most of my days, start in the preschool. In Project Grow right now we're talking about our five senses, so as part of session yesterday we made homemade, (technically) edible Play-doh. It was something the kiddos could obviously see, feel, smell, and- if they reallllly wanted- taste. The recipe called for lots of flour, LOTS of salt, a little bit of water and oil, and Kool Aid powder. So, while the end result smelled incredible (mine was Ice Blue Raspberry Lemonade, mmmm), truthfully I don't think you could have paid me enough to taste it. Some of the preschoolers, a little skeptically, first turned the stuff over in their little hands, but they all without hesitation tasted at least a little hunk of the colorful goop. No one told them they had to. They just wanted the full experience I think. They are so open! And willing!
This simple activity just served as a small but powerful reminder to me, in contrast to my crusty old lady-ness and "grody, I'm not tasting that"-attitude, that part of the childlike faith Jesus calls us to absolutely involves just being open, willing, curious, trusting. To nasty globs of homemade Play-Doh, perhaps, but ultimately also just to his father's will and the leading of the Spirit. To experience life to the full, in some ways we must become like these little tots.
My Tuesdays then end at DAIS, the domestic abuse shelter I volunteer at, where I essentially just play with and love on kids of families temporarily seeking refuge and safety from heartbreaking and messy things. Last night a new family checked into the shelter, a family consisting of a mother and two little boys- all of whom speak exclusively Spanish. It quickly became apparent that, of all the other volunteers there last night, I was the only one with any knowledge of the language and thus by default, Riley and Leonardo's all-time buddy for the evening. While I am still frustratingly close to finishing a Spanish major and at one point was really decently fluent in the language, I have truthfully not spoken the language in close to two years. So, I was nervous. The whole situation felt a little yikesy and overwhelming. How on earthhhh was I going to play with two little boys for a few hours with just the pathetic remnants of what I'd picked up in Spanish classes over the years?
But God is good! And He provides! I sit here writing this STILL in awe of last night. By His grace I weirdly remembered obscure words for toys, verbs of fun things to do and try, phrases of encouragement. Last night I spent hours bantering back and forth over Play-doh with Riley in a language I thought I'd entirely forgotten. I bounced Leonardo on my lap singing him kids songs in Spanish. WHAT?! It was powerful. Those two chiquititos showed me just how laughter and fun and Play-doh playing and joy and love transcend language and culture. What a beautiful thing.
Now on, quickly, to big kid adventures!
Tomorrow I leave to spend the weekend visiting and interviewing for a job in Young Life's DC Metro region. And while I don't know yet exactly what might come of it, I can say with such certainty that in the process that's lead me even to this point, it has been the Lord's hand guiding and pushing me. Which is soooo... reassuring. And exciting! Let's see what's in store.
