I was standing on a dreary plot of land that was a playground of an inner city school where I volunteer. More than thirty kindergartners were running carelessly, vying for a turn to go down the slide within the intimidating chain-link-fence enclosure. I waited for one of them to trip and skin a knee or for one to come and tattle on another when I was caught off guard.
I felt a small set of hands tugging on the back of my shirt. I turned around and was immediately grasped in a firm hug by a little girl. Her name was Carmen and she was having a rough day. When I asked her what was wrong she told me, “I hate school.” In the short conversation that followed, I quickly realized that attempting to communicate with her in English was not going to work, so I switched to Spanish.
What came next, in response to my prodding, was an explanation of Carmen’s anxiety about not speaking English well. She said that her teachers taught in English so even if she could follow the lesson (which was an uncommon occurrence), she was unable to participate or ask questions due to her fear and embarrassment over her choppy English. Carmen needed a teacher who spoke her language—we all do. We all need to have teachers who we understand and who understand what we need to learn.
Hearing Carmen’s predicament made me think of how Jesus speaks my language. Jesus understands me and knows what I need to learn even if I’m not aware of it. I often arrive at this after-school program thinking that I am there to minister to the children. In a sense it’s true: I help to supervise them, make sure they get dinner, help them do homework, and hopefully I serve as a positive role model for them. But in another sense they minister to me; they show me the face of Jesus in a way that words cannot capture.
Something about these children speaks to my heart about Jesus’s love for each one of us. Through them Jesus teaches me that his love is never earned and never diminishes. Through them I have learned that they and all of us are God’s beloved children, created in his image and dwelling places of the Holy Spirit. Seeing them as God’s precious daughters and sons (rather than burdensome, undocumented residents as they are often identified), moves me to action knowing that in serving them, I am serving Christ, and that through them Christ is serving and teaching me.
—Frankie
Read Psalm 139:1–14. Take a moment to ponder the beauty of your creation in all its complexities—your mind, your body, your heart. Praise God for the good things, the gifts that he has given you. How can knowing we are all wonderfully made and formed in God help us in our call to mission?
Call to mind the image of someone you have helped. Do you see Christ in them? Do you think they saw Christ in you? If the answer is “no,” pray, asking God to give you a new way of seeing, one that reveals him in each and every one of us.