Kisses from Katie - Katie Davis

Intro:

My heart had been apprehended by a great love, a love that compelled me to live differently.

This is a book about a Christ who not only knows but cares about every hair on my head. Yours too. I cannot even begin to fathom that, but I know it's true.

Chapter 1:

For years before I went to Uganda, I had fantasized about doing something incredible for God and others; what I have learned is that I can do nothing incredible, but as I follow God into impossible situations, He can work miracles in and through me.

In December 2006, my mom and I were on our way to Uganda, where we would spend three weeks volunteering in a home for abandoned or orphaned babies. During those three weeks, I lost part of my heart to a place I'd never been before. I fell in love with Uganda as soon as I arrived. ...It was easy for me to fall in love with them and with their country, it's enormous beauty juxtaposing extreme poverty. ...The children as well as the women who worked in the orphanage inched their way into my heart, leaving their little handprints all over it. I would never be the same.

My heart found its joy as I served the beautiful people the world calls "poor" but who seemed so rich in love to me. I have no doubt that God was preparing a longing in my heart for Uganda many years before I could even find this country on a map; there is no other explanation for the instant love I felt for this place and these people. Though the red soil eventually wore off the soles of my feet, Uganda never left my heart and was never far from my mind.

I must admit I had become a bit obsessed with Uganda. I glanced at the clock during class to figure out what time it was there and daydreamed about what my friends in Uganda were doing. I talked about Uganda so much that I'm sure all my friends in the States wanted to tell me kindly to shut up. I knew I had to get back.

I realized I was prepared to do whatever I could to get back to my beloved Uganda, even if it meant suddenly becoming a kindergarten teacher.

I can't really explain in words the love I felt for these children or why I felt it.

The truth is, I saw myself in those little faces. I looked at them and felt this love that was unimaginable and knew that this is the way God sees me.

I sit here in a broken world, small and dirty at His feet, and He who sits so high chooses to commune with me, to love me anyway. He blinds Himself to my sin and my filth so that He can forge a relationship with me. And this is what He did for me with these precious children. He blinded me to the filth and disease, and I saw only children hungry for love that I was eager to share with them. I adored them, not because of who I was, but because of who He is. I just sat right down on that cold, hard floor and snuggled my nose into their dirty necks and kissed their fungus-covered heads and didn't even see it. I was in love.

Sometimes working in a Third World country makes me feel like I am emptying the ocean with an eyedropper. And just when I have about half a cup full of water it rains. More orphaned children from the north migrate to where I live, more abandoned and dead babies are found, more people are infected with HIV. It is enough to discourage the most enthusiastic and passionate person. And yet the discouragement lasts only a moment, and God tells me to keep going. That He loves me. That He loves these people. That He will never leave or forsake any of us, not one. That my work is important - to Him. ...That love is the reason I just keep filling up my little eyedropper, keep filling it up and emptying my ocean one drop at a time. I'm not here to eliminate poverty, to eradicate disease, to put a stop to people abandoning babies. I'm just here to love.

Chapter 2:

I didn't want to tell friends and family that I could dance and sing and play with children all day long yet collapse in tears at night in the privacy of my small room. I could praise God with all my joyful heart and then later pour out my heart to Him with frustration and weeping when no one else could hear. The contradiction comes when I realize that all these experiences and emotions were real. The happiness that gave me chill bumps was as deep as my loneliness. My sense of certainty about being exactly where God wanted me was solid, but just as firm was the fact that I wondered at times what on earth I was doing here.

I loved my new life; I truly loved it. But compared to the life I had been living, it was hard. There were many moments when the only way I could keep going was to try my best not to look back but to look only forward, relying on God's perfect plan. Like so many other things, this wasn't always easy, but it was the key to conquering the mountains of difficulty that arose on the landscape of my life. 

Many times, as I looked at the candle illuminating my room on those dark and sometimes lonely nights, He reminded me that I could light candles in the hearts of others as long as I let Him fill my heart first. He reminded me that I was indeed the light of the world, and I was to shine before those around me so that they would glorify Him.

Jesus can light up this entire nation, and my flame can be a part of that. I am blown away that my God, who could do this all by Himself, would choose to let me be a little part of it. I spent many nights without power in the place where I lived, and yet that's where I saw the power of one life, one candle in one woman's heart.

Materially speaking, the people who began to fill my life were the poorest I had ever met, and yet they overflowed with the riches of the heart. They lived in houses of sticks or stones and mud; they slept on hard dirt floors. But they did not blame God for this or ask Him for more. They knew their circumstances were due to the brokenness of this world, and they simply praised Jesus for keeping them alive through it all. They believed in His goodness. They lived with love and passion, caring for one another and for me and deeply appreciating the simplest gifts life had to offer: the happy giggles of children, the smile and warm greeting of a friend, the beauty that surrounded them, a chance to work when possible, a helping hand when needed most. In my mind, these people had every reason to be despondent and downcast, but they were the most joyful human beings I could imagine. I learned so much from them as they made my frustrations seem small and petty and taught me just to rejoice in the simple pleasures God had surrounded me with. Once I could do this, I embraced extreme exhilaration; I felt closer to God, to myself, and to the people, and more alive than ever before.

Everywhere I have looked, raw, filthy, human need and brokenness have been on display, begging for someone to meet them, fix them. And even though I realize I cannot always mend or meet, I can enter in. I can enter into someone's pain and sit with them and know. This is Jesus. Not that He apologizes for the hard and the hurt, but that He enters in, He comes with us to the hard places. And so I continue to enter.

I realized that he was using the contradictions around me to change my point of view. In the beginning, I would have described it as God turning my world upside down, but now I know that He was actually turning it right side up!

Sometimes I just wished I could hang out with my little brother and his buddies.... Sometimes I wanted to spend hours upon hours talking with my best friends... I wanted to go to the gym; I wanted my hair to look nice; I wanted to be allowed to wear jeans. I wanted to be a normal teenager living in America, sometimes. But I wanted other things more. All the time, I wanted to be spiritually and emotionally filled every day of my life. I wanted to be loved and cuddled by a hundred children and never go a day without laughing. ...I wanted to be challenged endlessly; I wanted to be learning and growing every minute. I wanted to be taught by those I teach, and I wanted to share God's love with people who otherwise might not know it. I wanted to work so hard that I ended every day filthy and too tired to move. I wanted to feel needed, important, and used by the Lord. I wanted to make some kind of difference, no matter how small, and I wanted to give my life away, to serve the Lord with each breath, each second. At the end of the day, no matter how hard, I wanted to be right here in Uganda.

I am in the primary boys' room, which is home to twenty-five boys ages six to ten. I have never seen anyone so alive with love for their Maker. Some stand with their hands in the air. Others, like me, overwhelmed with awe, have fallen to their knees on the cold cement floor. ...God is so in this moment; I feel so full of His love that my heart threatens to burst. This is not something I can explain. This is not something words can capture. This feeling is bigger. The splendor of God in this room takes my breath away. We all pray out loud, and our voices mix into one, all different words, but the same message: Thank you. Thank you.

This nation is blessed beyond any place, any people I have ever encountered. God has not forgotten them. In fact, I believe He has loved them just a little bit extra. ...God is so close I feel I can touch Him. My deepest prayer is that I could know the Lord as well as the first grader next to me. All my senses are full of His greatness. God's glory has fallen down into this place and is soaking us even deeper than the rain. I never ever want to be dry.

Chapter 3:

I know in my heart and my soul and the core of my being that I love the Lord, that I would do anything for Him, go to the ends of the earth for Him, but how often do I forget to give the glory to His name?

Chapter 4:

My love for the people around me was not something I could muster up myself; it was God-given, it came from the overflow of the love He had lavished on me.

I began each day by saying, "Okay, Lord, what would you have me do today? Whom would you have me help today?" And then I would allow Him to show me.

My heart was on fire with a passion to say yes to God's every request - to do more to help the people around me.

My friend Oliver (Oliver is a common name for girls and women in Uganda) helped me identify the children who could benefit most from going to school, the ones she knew were most "badly off." Oliver had been around the area where I lived all her life. She seemed to know absolutely everyone. She knew who was related to whom; she knew family stories and histories; and instinctively, she knew how to separate truth from village gossip. She comes across as quiet and serious, but underneath her reserved demeanor, she is perceptive, hardworking, dependable, God-loving, and determined to make a difference in her community.

Oliver was one of my first friends, and before I'd known her very long, I noticed she was spending a good bit of her free time with me. She didn't seem to want anything; she simply seemed interested in why I had come to live in her part of the world. She sensed that God wanted her to help me - and help me she did, in more ways than I can count.

Oliver's friends noticed her helping me and teased her about it. "Why do you follow around that small white girl?" they asked.

"Because God is going to do something with her here," she replied. So Oliver continued to give her time and share her wisdom with me, as we worked together to identify the most needy children and give them an opportunity to go to school.

When I respond that this program is free, no strings attached, they fall to their knees in the red dust and fight back tears as they thank me. They ask why. Why am I doing this? Why do I care so much? The answer is simple: "Because the Lord who created you loves you. Because He created you for a purpose, and He wants you to fulfill that purpose. Because the God who knows every hair on your head desires to lift you out of this dust and into His glory."

I close my eyes and listen to the laughter of children, parents, friends, and relatives who have been helped by this program. The joy that wells up inside of me is too immense to describe. God has blessed me. More than I ever could have asked or imagined. I wonder like they do. "Why? Why do I deserve this? Why do you care so much about me, Lord?" But the answer is simple: Because the God who created us loves us. Because He created each one of us for a purpose, and He wants us to fulfill that purpose. Because the God who knows every hair on my head desires to lift me out of this dust and into His Glory. And He is.

Chapter 6:

Adoption is a redemptive response to tragedy that happens in this broken world. And every single day, it is worth it, because adoption is God's heart. ...The first word that appears when I look up adoption in the dictionary is "acceptance." God accepts me, adores me even, just as I am. And He wants me to accept those without families into my own.

My life was being filled with unforgettable experiences. Every day something happened, usually something more heartbreaking or appalling than anything I had ever encountered. I was growing accustomed to it, and I knew it was what I was created for. The sense of purpose and fulfillment I felt was nothing short of amazing, and I wanted to immerse myself in this life for the rest of my days.

My goofy, trash-loving children are constant reminders of God. They look at things that I see as used, broken, and dirty, and they see treasure. Can you imagine? God looks at everyone, broken, old, dirty, probably not a whole lot more exciting than an old toilet paper roll, and sees treasure. Something He loves dearly, something He would die for. Wow.

Thank you, God, for my trash-loving, treasure-seeking children. Thank you for so much laughter in the midst of a difficult week. Thank you that when I feel old and used-up and broken and no more exciting than a cardboard box, you whisper that you love and value me, and that in your eyes, I am shiny and new.

Chapter 7:

Frederick Beuchner writes, "The place God calls us to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet." I had been more than happy all my life in my home in Brentwood (TN). But my deepest gladness and the world's deep hunger met in Uganda. Everything in Uganda made me feel alive. Uganda was home, the place God was calling me, and I had to get back as quickly as possible.

I know I cannot walk into a village and tell a child that Jesus loves her. She cannot comprehend that, because, chances are, she has never been loved. I have to feed her, clothe her, care for her, and lover her unconditionally as I tell her that I love her. Once she can understand and see my love, I can begin to tell her about a Savior who loves her even more.

Chapter 8:

I struggled to come up with the money to pay for the children's treatments, pay the people who were helping me, and feed all of us. It was difficult. But it is in the brilliantly, gloriously, wonderfully difficult seasons that God seems to show Himself all-powerful and in control. 

Seeing six of His children with clean, healthy skin and renewed laughter and energy made all the effort more than worthwhile. This was one of the many incidences when the Lord has shown me that the more I give of myself, the more He fills me up. The more I love, the more love I have to give.

When Auntie and Grandma came back into their home, it was a new place. It actually looked cozy. Their eyes shone with tears. For just that look, just that expression of thankfulness, I would do it again. I would treat scabies and burn clothes and get covered in poop and mud and maggots every single day just to see Jesus in that old grandmother's face. I would.

Chapter 11:

God does give us more than we can handle. Not maliciously, but intentionally, in love, that His glory may be displayed, that we may have no doubt of who is in control, that people may see His grace and faithfulness shining through our lives.

Chapter 13:

I believe in miracles, and mostly I believe in love, God's love - big, extravagant, unconditional. His love moves mountains and changes the world, love that is freely given, that we may also freely give it to others.

Lord, we give you our brokenness, that you may fully restore us. Remind us of the intimacy that you long for with each of us, your deep, passionate love for your children. Father, you have given so freely, you have loved so extravagantly. Let us give. Let us love.

Chapter 14:
I think He allowed me to really miss my boyfriend so I could catch a tiny glimpse of what His heart must feel as the church strays into religion and away from the things that are so important to Him, like the impoverished, unwanted people of the world. How He longs and desires for my heart, each and every minute of each and every day.

God so deeply, passionately, desperately loves us. He so intensely longs for His lover, the church, to come back to His teachings of giving everything we have to serve the poor, of living in community. He wants to woo us, each one of us, as we are the body who make up the church. I am still trying to get there, and it makes me fell special to know that He sings over me even more passionately than Celine Dion. That is pretty wonderful.

On any given day, I can drive down the road between my home and Buziika and, if it is the right time, when kids are heading home from school, I will hear "Mommy! Mommy!" being shouted about every two seconds as I pass all the children on the road. I smile as I hear them yell "Mommy!" But for fourteen "Mommy"s, I stop. I can hear the difference.

Chapter 15:
To say that I am in love with the people of this community would be a huge understatement. I do not really even have words to describe the way I cherish these beautiful people. They challenge me, they love me unconditionally, and they allow me to see Jesus in their faces.

Chapter 16:
When my days are dark and difficult, I am tempted to look around and think, Why? Why do I do this? Why would I take one more child? Why would we live with less so we can give to others more? Why did I leave family and friends to go to a land of strangers? What am I doing here?
I do not usually forget the answers to all these questions. "For Jesus. Because He called me to this, and because He gave his life for me." This means that it has been granted to me, it is my privilege, not only to believe in Him but also to suffer for Him. That suffering is not alone, but it is with Him, and oh, what a privilege it is just to be ale to be in His presence to share that with my sweet Savior.
This is what it means when I say I do it for Jesus. He loved me first; I love Him back. And sometimes it hurts. But even then it is pure joy to even be considered worthy to share in His sufferings. That is the promise; not that He is sorry that it hurts, but that He sees; that He knows; that He is here with us.

I know that even on the hardest day, stopping is worth it. A life changed is worth it, even if only one. God's love made known is worth it, even if only to one. I will not save them all. But I will keep trying. I will say, "Yes." I will stop for one.

I told myself once that I would not take people from Masese into my home because the need was too great. How would I choose? But God taught me to take just one more. I am inadequate and can do nothing without Him. Even with Him, I can do very little. But as I do what I can, I am able to watch Him do what only He can.

The other day, a woman named Nakong came up to me with burns covering her body. I wanted to cry thinking of how much help she needed and how many others there were who needed help too. God pushed me forward, "Today, it is her day." So to the hospital we went. And every time, it is worth it.

I see that God will change the community that I thought was impossible to change. But He will do it one person at a time. He is doing it one person at a time. And that He would use me just blows me away again and again and again. I could try to find words enough to praise my loving Father. They would not be sufficient.

Chapter 17:
The people Jesus healed were inevitably sick again at some point in their lives. The people Jesus fed miraculously were hungry again a few days later. More important than the very obvious might and power shown by Jesus' miracles is His love. He loved these people enough to do everything in His power to "make it better." He entered into their suffering and loved them right there. We aren't really called to save the world, not even to save one person, Jesus does that. We are just called to love with abandon. We are called to enter into our neighbor's sufferings and love them right there.

Chapter 18:
She was 18 years old and she had never been in love with someone she could touch before. I mean, she had been in love with Jesus since she was little, but this was different, touchable love. In her eyes, he was perfect. He loved the Lord, not to mention he was pretty darn cute. He made her giggle by saying things that only she found funny. He made her heart flutter when he swept that one always-stray piece of hair out of her eyes.
They were the "perfect couple." They were desperately in love, one lit up as the other entered the room. They could see their beautiful future together. ...Then God asked her to move to Uganda. At first it was going to be for only one year. They could do a year. She would come back, and they could still go to college together, and all their dreams would still come true. ...Finally she came to terms with the fact that God was just asking her to stay. And that when He said He wanted all of her, He meant all.
Okay, then. She would live in Uganda. But she held on to her love, because remaining comfortable was so much easier than dealing with the hurt and the emptiness. ...She couldn't sit still in his world anymore, it made her head spin and her heart ache. And still she held on, because she didn't love him any less. She knew God could move mountains, and she prayed God would change his heart. After all, such a love must have been God-orchestrated.
He made her feel beautiful as she walked through life as a single mom covered in dust and spit-up. He appreciated her even when everyone else forgot to say "Thank you." He believed in her when the rest of the world said raising $80,000 or adopting ten children was silly. Even from the other side of the world, he cheered her on, and he picked her up when she just didn't feel strong enough. His voice on the other end of the phone turned a rough day right around.
They were moving in opposite directions. They both knew it, but they both refused to let go. So she asked God for a very specific sign, for something she thought very unlikely, if not absolutely impossible. And then something devastating happened. God gave her the sign that she asked for. So she kissed him goodnight and drove away and cried so hard that she doubted she would ever breathe again. She tried not to wonder if anyone would ever lover her like that again or how she would do her life all alone.
And that's when He reminded her that she wasn't alone at all, that He would make her feel beautiful as a single mom covered in dust and spit-up. He let her know that He appreciated her even when everyone else forgot to say "Thank you," that He believed in her when the rest of the world thought everything she did was crazy, that He would cheer her on and pick her up when she just didn't feel strong enough. He told her that His voice whispering in her ear would turn those rough days right around, that He would always be faithful, that His love would be unconditional. He reminded her that He, her one true love, would never leave or forsake her and would give her the desires of her heart. That He would make all things new, even her shattered heart.

I still cry when I read those words I wrote so long ago. I still feel the sharp pain of that loss. The thought of spending eternity with Jesus, however, makes the pain seem trivial and momentary. ...I believe with all my heart that nothing is a sacrifice in light of the promise that one day I will get to live with Him forever. I want to obey. I want to give my life away.

Sometimes I am so tempted to look back, but I do not want to. I want to only look forward to what He is going to do.

I want to give everything, no matter the cost. No matter the cost. Because I believe that nothing is a sacrifice in light of eternity with Christ.

Chapter 19:
There is a common misconception that I am courageous. I will be the first to tell you that this is not actually true. Most of the time, I am not brave. I just believe in a God who will use me even though I am not.

Lord, may we choose you every moment of every day. We want to be fully committed to You. We want every day to become a day we say "yes" to You. We repent for lukewarmness, from mediocrity, from normalcy. We want to shine so brightly for You that others can't help but see and feel your love. Let us look at every encounter as an opportunity to show your love.

Lord, on the days where helping just one more person seems like too much, help me to choose You. On the days when Satan whispers, "You can't save everyone, why are you trying?" let me choose You. ... When harsh words are easier to find than kind ones, let me choose You. ...Thank you for the cross, where you have given us peace and holiness. Father, we long to say yes to You.

Chapter 20:
I believe there is only one truly courageous thing we can do with our lives: to love unconditionally. Absolutely, with all of ourselves, so much that it hurts, and then more.

I always hope my friends will live here on earth with me, but I tell them with a new sense of urgency about Jesus, because mostly I want them to live with Him, experience His profound, unconditional love, whether here or in heaven. I see the sadness, but I also see the redemption.

I have learned along my journey that if I really want to follow Jesus, I will go to the hard places.

Being a Christ-follower means being acquainted with sorrow. We must know sorrow to be able to fully appreciate joy. Joy costs pain, but the pain is worth it. After all, the murder had to take place before the resurrection.

I'll be honest: The hard places can seem unbearable. It's dark, and it's scary, and even though I know God said He will never leave or forsake me, sometimes it's so dark that I just can't see Him. But then the most incredible thing happens: God takes me by the hand and walks me straight out of the hard place and into the beauty on the other side. He whispers to me to be thankful, that even this will be for His good.

It takes awhile sometimes, coming out of the dark place. Sometimes God and I come out into a desert, and he has to carry me through that too. Sometimes I slip a lot on the way out and He has to keep coming back to get me. Always, on the other side is something beautiful, because He has used this hard place to increase my sense of urgency and to align my desires with His. I realize that it was there that He was closest to me, even in the times when I didn't see Him. I realize that the hard places are good, because it is there that I gained more wisdom, and though with wisdom comes sorrow, on the other side of sorrow is joy.

So we go. This is where our family is today and where I hope to stay - loving, because He first loved us. Going into the hard places, entering into the sorrow, because He entered for us first and because by His grace, redemption and beauty are on the other side.

Once the custody decision was made, Jane's birth mother took Jane and left, telling me on her way that she would call me if she needed anything. Broeknhearted and devastated, my mom, Patricia, and I began the long drive back to Jinja, and I tried to wrap my mind around how in the world I would tell Grace that her "twin" sister was not coming home. I didn't think I would ever be able to breathe again. Not that day, not ever. We arrived home late Monday night, and Tuesday morning, my twenty-second birthday, I didn't think my legs would be able to carry my body as I willed myself to get out of bed, overwhelmed with pain and heartache. I looked around and I did not want to be this person. I did not want to be this woman who had to grieve the loss of her daughter. I did not want to be a woman who had to walk her children through the grief and trauma of losing a sister. I did not know how. And I am still learning. Sometimes, I still do not want to be this person. But I am learning how to be this person with grace, because this is the path God intended for me. It came as no surprise to Him. Even this, for my good.

We gave Jane a family when no one else could. We spoke up for her when she could not speak for herself. I fought as hard as I knew how for my litter girl. And God, who sees and knows what is very best for her and for the rest of my family, allowed her to go live with someone else. For the good of me, for the good of her and the rest of my children, for the good of His Kingdom and the glory that is His. So I trust Him. I cling to His promises. I believe in His goodness.

"Surely just as I have intended, so it has happened, and just as I have planned, so it will stand," He says in Isaiah 14:21. My good God gives only good things; He planned this, and He will use this. In Him, even sorrow is Joy.

I am learning. I am learning to hope when nothing makes sense and to know that God knows best, even when what He is asking of us seems so impossible. I am waiting, and God is teaching me this. I beg Him to bring me close to His heart, to even transform my heart that it might be more like His.

I think that while no part of me wants to be in this place of losing Jane, not at all, this is where I asked to be: closer and closer to His heart. He knows this pain. He knows what it is to lose a child to the injustice of a fallen world. And so while I still cry and beat my fists on the floor, I find comfort in that, and I ask to be closer still. 

Suffering. Rejoicing. Squalor. Beauty. Love. Pain. These are the things that surround me, and all of them are from Him. This life is beautiful and terrible and simple and difficult, and He is using it for His glory.

John was not surprised to see me the next day at 7:00 am. As I handed him the antibiotic and explained how to take it, I kind of wanted him to say thank you. But as I looked in his eyes, I knew why he hadn't thanked me: because this was expected. He knew I would bandage his wound and give him medicine, because that is what I do. His trust was much better than a thank you. As I washed the gash and covered it with a fresh bandage, he said once again, "I knew you were coming. You bring medicine like you said. You always come." As I took his sweet face into my hands, I whispered to him that Jesus loves him and that He will always show up, always come, always be there to help him.

He is coming! He is coming to bandage our wounds, to bind up our broken hearts, to take our faces into His hands and whisper, "I am always here." He is coming, and all these children who are hurting and hungry and longing for love are going to be scooped into His everlasting arms and told that they are beautiful. They will no longer be hungry or hurting, because they will be filled with His Spirit. They are the least of these, they are His heart, and He is coming for them and for us. So we wait like John. We are expectant like Gwen's young son, Elijah. We will not be put to shame.

Afterword:
A few months ago, I was reading in Matthew 17 the story of Peter asking Jesus if He was require to pay the temple tax. Jesus answers that He will pay the tax as not to offend anyone and sends Peter to catch a fish. I read it twice, and I laughed and laughed. Jesus is funny. Peter opens the mouth of that first fish he catches, and there in its mouth is exactly enough money to pay both Jesus' tax and his. I am so thankful that I serve this kind of God. He loves to love us. He delights in surprising us. The funniest thing about this story to me is that Jesus could have just handed Peter the money. ...I believe that he delighted in Peter so much that He wanted to put this element of surprise and hilarity in his day.

As I opened up my eyes when we reached the hospital, still whispering His name, the bleeding stopped. The little girl's head started to swell. The hospital gave her a shot of painkiller and an IV of saline, and house later she was sitting up, alert, chattering to her father. "Mild concussion," they said. But I knew; that mild concussion was our miracle. Maybe I am not surprised when He heals. He says that He can. But I am always surprised that He loves me enough to allow me to be a part of it.

I was sharing all of this with a friend recently, this wonderful surprise of how much He delights in me. He simply laughed and said, "Of course. He loves you, Katie. You are one of His favorite people." The truth resonated in my spirit. Yes, that is what I feel like: one of His favorites, lavished with His love. Isn't that what He wants each and every one of His children to feel, all the time?

Each one of us is cherished. How would life change if we thought of each other as such? If each person who approached us we treated as beloved of God, cherished by God, one of God's favorite people? The God of the universe delights in you. In me. In them. Could we rest in that? Could we love like that? I can look back at all the ways He has surprised me and know that I am one of His favorites. He has delighted in me; He has gloriously surprised me.

A year ago, I stood in my backyard, and I screamed Jesus' name as I gripped tightly a four-year-old who was about to be taken away. I cried His name and I pleaded for His mercy. And when they took her away anyway, when the court ruled not to give her back, it was so easy to believe the lie that He had not shown up. But faithful, intimate Jesus never lost the twinkle in His eye. He was there. I was still one of His favorite people, and He was waiting to surprise me. Five months after Jane was taken from our home, she and her birth mother, Nancy, showed up at our gate. They were sick. Nancy had lost her job, and they had been evicted from their house. We welcomed Jane back into our family, but this time, plus one.

I did not think I could do it. I did not think I had enough. Not enough love, not enough grace, not enough strength to deal with this. I had asked for my daughter back, but this was not how I had wanted it. And Jesus was asking for crazy trust, and crazy obedience. I knew I was not to withhold my love from them, even though they would leave again, and, of course, it would hurt again.

Today, Nancy is becoming a friend, and Jane is blossoming as her daughter. We see them multiple times each week, if not daily. They still eat at our table, Jane plays dolls with the girls, and I spend long hours on the couch praying with Nancy. Nancy has become filled with compassion over the plight of the Karimojong in Masese and the injustices they face. And I believe with every fiber of my being that it is better this way.

My Jesus looks at Nancy with that twinkle in His eye, too. Because Nancy is one of His favorites. This Father, in His marvelous grace, had something so much better in mind. He did not just want Jane to have a family, He wanted Nancy to have one too.

"Surprise, I am right here. Surprise, it is just as I said it would be. Surprise, I am exactly enough, everything you need, all over again."

I prayed, and He could have pulled the answer right out of His pocket. But He didn't, because He loves me too much and His way is better.

He is a parent who delights in surprising His children, a friend who loves doing something extra special for His closest pal. I can laugh with Jesus, because He is too good to me. ...And God holds all of the chaos in the palm of His hand, giving even the pain a purpose.

In that moment in the backyard, God did not forget to rescue us. He just needed to rescue someone else with us. A year later I can say, "Yes, this year has been the hardest yet. Really, though, it has also been the best. And I would do it all again if He asked me to." Because faithful God did not let go of our hands. I am young, and I know that the most difficult times are not behind us. But as I rest in Him and draw near, I am learning much, and I am remembering that I am one of His favorites.  And even in the middle of a storm, even when I can't see the good yet, He can. And He is looking at me with that twinkle in His eye, just waiting to surprise me.