I wrote a letter to one of my friends explaining the fate of the necklace which she gave me, but then before sending it I decided that I wanted you all to be able to read it as well. So here it is…
Dear Lucy,
I want to tell you about your necklace…
First of all, it was beautiful and I opened it during our first week when I felt so homesick I didn’t know what to do with myself. I loved it and instantly decided that I would wear it for the whole trip to remind me of home and all those I missed, carrying them with me all through India. Well I wore it faithfully all the way to Ajmir, but I’m afraid that it won’t make it home. Let me explain to you why…
The first time I saw my little princess she was standing off to the side of our soccer field watching us. I had just arrived in Ajmir that morning and was kicking the ball around in the sand and rocks with about ten Indian boys. She wasn’t smiling and even when I went over to her and hugged her she retained her sad, complacent expression. I tried a couple of times to get through to her, but to no avail. Finally, I returned to football. But that night I lost my heart to her.
During evening prayer service I had pulled her onto my lap. She sat there without reacting to my touch or presence, until the end of the service when her heard began to bob and it became evident that despite her valiant struggle to stay awake she was fading fast. Finally, she fell asleep, yielding at last to my embrace. I held her that night for a long time captivated by the precious bundle nestled in my lap, then reluctantly tucked her into her bed. That night my heart melted for an Indian baby for the first time and all I wanted was to hold her close again…
For the next few days I devoted myself to breaking down the million barriers surrounding little Mona. However, this proved incredibly difficult, as Mona hated physical touch and all of the ways that I would naturally convey affection proved only to push her further away. As a result hours of those first days were spent searching for new ways to show her my love for her. Yet after countless piggy-back pony rides, bubbles, and play-doh games she remained unchanged. She responded to me the same as she had the first day despite the hours I had spent loving on her.
Then pony rides, the only thing that could draw from her a faint smile and a little giggle, became of no interest to her despite my offers. Discouraged I consented to bubbles and play-doh; however, when I returned from the kitchen to see her climbing onto one of my teammates back, I ran to Jesus in frustration. Why, after all of those hours of patience, hours of searching for ways to love her, she chose another. I told God that I knew that I was here to love her, not be loved by her, but I just wanted one Indian child to love me, choose me.
God simply hugged me and then opened my eyes to see all the times that I had been Mona, when he had pursued me, loved me, sought after me. And all the times that I had chosen another. On the roof (the place where I always go to meet with God) God showed me a small glimpse of what unconditional love was. It was loving someone, regardless of their response. This understood he told me that he was glad that I had come to him, but he did not need me up on the roof, he needed me down loving on the kids. So talking one last gulp of his living water I descended the stairs.
Mona was wondering around and I offered her a ride, she accepted, and I played with her until evening prayer. During prayer she sat on my lap and for the first time didn’t shy away from my embrace. When it was over I offered her my back for a ride. Shaking her head “no” she walked around to my front and let me lift her up into my arms. My heart melted. But right then Jesus told me to put her down and come to him. He said to seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things would be mine as well. He simply asked, “Sarah, do you love me most?”
Words can not explain how hard it was to hand over the moment I had worked so hard for to one of my teammates. Once I gave her up, I ran to Jesus, threw myself into his arms and simply said, “I am here Jesus, and you’re still first.” In the next half hour Jesus surrounded me with his love. He told me that even while I was loving on kids, he wanted me to be focused first on being in his arms and loving him. I kept trying to be filled by him and then go out and love. Instead, he wanted me to abide in him, love him first, let him hold me as I held a child, and he would love right through me. Then just because he is an amazing God, he turned me around and showed me a magnificent sunset over the mountains, one that I could not have seen if I had not come up to the roof. Then I went back down, remaining in him.
I found Mona content in my teammates arms, but that was Ok because I was in Jesus’ arms and that truly was all that mattered. Then later, as I was holding her, God blessed me further as we played with one of the boys. He was pretending to be a tiger and chasing us around. Mona was beside herself squealing with delight, smiling from ear to ear, and laughing hysterically. I had given her to God and he had given her back to me.
The next day passed in a blur of joy. Carrying Mona everywhere, picking bouquets with her, making balloons with her and just loving her. But that night God again asked me to give my time with her up, telling me that I was here to do his will and his work and he wanted me to love on the boys. So down Mona went again and I played monster with the boys for hours, tickling and chasing them as they leapt from bunk to bunk. It was amazing and in the process I lost my heart to ten more Indian boys.
Then came our last day and I wish that I could somehow capture the difference in Mona between the first day and the last. Not only was I holding her, but she refused to get down the entire day. The little girl who hated touch would follow me around, even out on the soccer field, arms outstretched begging to be held. When I picked her up she would rest her head on my shoulder, little arms around me. The little girl who would utter a sound to anyone filled our hours with her little voice saying “Auntie” as she pointed out the direction she wanted to go. We went for final walks, picked last bouquets, and I treasured every last second we had together.
It was to little Mona that I gave your necklace, Lucy. Your gift meant the world to me because you see, I had brought nothing but the bare minimum with me to Ajmir. I had nothing which I could give a child, but your necklace. So I left it where I left my heart and words can’t explain what being able to do that meant to me.
