“He will never let me stumble, slip or fall. For He is always watching, never sleeping” Psalm 121:3-4
From 1-4 p.m. we advance the kingdom by playing basketball, jump roping, worshipping, memorizing the Word, splitting into groups, asking questions and seeking answers.
God shows us the hearts of these kids; we show them the heart of God by the power of His Spirit.
With the last paint brush cleaned and the final lollipop licked, we send them home with a bag lunch and milk.
That’s the hardest part for me.
For four hours, I rest in knowledge. Knowledge that they’re getting fed. They’re hearing truth. They’re paid attention to. They’re safe.
At 4 o’clock, as their hands clench the brown paper bags, my mind grasps for Truth.
Like a childhood blankie, I grip Psalm 121 tightly, resting in the security it offers me.
For 21 hours, I’m away from them. I don’t know what they’re experiencing, what lies they’re being told, what images they’ll never forget. I don’t know what it is they’re believing. So, I must throw myself on this Word. I have to trust that our group prayers and late night pleas make God move.
My sanity depends on my belief that God will guard the innocence of 5-year-old Royal; cover DeJuanne with gentleness and encourage Kewan as he walks in kindness and uprightness. I trust He hears us and delights in honoring the prayers of His righteous ones.
I trust that when I shut my eyes in my safe suburban neighborhood, and when they shut theirs in a neighborhood infamous for death and crime, God’s gaze remains fixed on His precious ones. I trust He knows more intricately than I ever could, every detail of these kids’ lives.
And that when Jesus said “Let the little children come to me,” He included the Holly Grove kids.
I’m thankful for a God that never sleeps, a God who is ever watching over this world, who honors our prayers, a God who will continue to answer our requests for an eternity, in the most detailed of ways.
As the moon hangs over Holly Grove tonight, I ask God for the hearts of His children, for joy-filled dreams reassuring them of God’s kindness, of a Savior who never stops loving and refuses to give up.
I pray that as the sun gently slips into their rooms, they will hear The Spirit whispering, “Give me your hand and we’ll beat all the odds–this life will be something most extraordinary.”