Tenali, India
During my two weeks in India, I spent a lot of time with children from different villages. For the most part, children are the same wherever you go–including the kids from Pastor Rufus’ orphanage. There were 40 of them, ages 5-12. And because they grew up together, I’m not sure how many of them actually knew they were orphans. During praise, they would sing and dance. During games, they would laugh and smile. But on the last night as we prayed over them, they began to cry. This was not the innocent, childhood bawling but a deeper, aching groan. Perhaps for the first time, they could sense that something was off in their lives. I held one boy named Heart as he sobbed into my chest with his arms around my waist. It was the unique posture of a child longing for his parents. The deep pain of missing something he doesn’t remember. As I prayed I cried out, “God, why is this happening? What is Your purpose?”
He assured me that He loves them very much and that He would be their father. So God let him cry, like He always does. He let the pain sink in. It was the hollowing of this orphan’s heart, to make space for Himself. I glimpsed the future of the Gospel in India that night. Leaders were being shaped in that very room. As I held Heart, I saw that he and I weren't that different. At the end of the day we are all spiritual orphans, separated from our Father in Heaven. Nostalgic for the eternity we haven’t yet experienced.
During my two weeks in India, I spent a lot of time with children from different villages. For the most part, children are the same wherever you go–including the kids from Pastor Rufus’ orphanage. There were 40 of them, ages 5-12. And because they grew up together, I’m not sure how many of them actually knew they were orphans. During praise, they would sing and dance. During games, they would laugh and smile. But on the last night as we prayed over them, they began to cry. This was not the innocent, childhood bawling but a deeper, aching groan. Perhaps for the first time, they could sense that something was off in their lives. I held one boy named Heart as he sobbed into my chest with his arms around my waist. It was the unique posture of a child longing for his parents. The deep pain of missing something he doesn’t remember. As I prayed I cried out, “God, why is this happening? What is Your purpose?”
He assured me that He loves them very much and that He would be their father. So God let him cry, like He always does. He let the pain sink in. It was the hollowing of this orphan’s heart, to make space for Himself. I glimpsed the future of the Gospel in India that night. Leaders were being shaped in that very room. As I held Heart, I saw that he and I weren't that different. At the end of the day we are all spiritual orphans, separated from our Father in Heaven. Nostalgic for the eternity we haven’t yet experienced.
