Trail to Hope

In Totus Park, the housing project in White Swan and target of most of our summer children’s ministry, there is a tree.  A huge tree, providing shade to the children, youth, and adults gathered for games, crafts, and Bible teaching.  We hang crafts on it and gulp water from the cooler at the base of its trunk when the sun is scorching.  In the four years I have now been part of Sacred Road in some way, I have seen little boys driving cars in the dirt in the shade of the tree.  I have beaded necklaces, made felted soap, colored pots for plants, read stories, held children, done sidewalk chalk, turned one end of a jumprope.

The tree has stood for many more years than Sacred Road has even been in existence, and I wonder at the things it would say if it could speak.  Great suffering and pain must be concealed behind its rough exterior of bark, and now, at times, what joy! as it sees the love of Christ poured out in its shade on her broken and hurting children. Does she long to spread out her branches and gather the children under her shade like a mother hen the way I long to?  

There was a team member here this spring, who has been an intern in the past and is returning this summer.  He was the first I heard reflect about the tree,

He said he thinks God must have smiled when that seed was planted.

Even now, almost two months later, the tears swell and trickle, the chest heaves at the thought.  That God would ordain this tree to see such suffering in order to have such a ministry all its own to us and to White Swan; what a marvelous mystery.  Without that tree, Kid’s Club would be so different, with nowhere for the children to escape the beating heat or rest in the shade in the loving arms of Christ’s church.

I have continued to think about God’s smile over His secret knowledge, and this thought path is endless.  Surely He smiled when our packing shed was built piece-by-piece years ago.  Surely He smiled when they seeded the lawn, knowing that one day it would be a place of joy and play for the children we draw to our home.  Did He smile to Himself when He sent us to the missions conference that first drew our hearts to White Swan?  Oh how He must be smiling at things I can’t even imagine, unimaginable blessings, joys, and fruit that even now - yes now!  He is preparing a way for.  

The weather is warming up and the other day, Jesse and his helpers had the Kingdom Kids out on our lawn for a picnic and storytime.  My girls were both napping, so I took the five steps out the door to join the group and was delighted when I came in sight and a chorus of little boy voices shouted my name.  ”Sarah!!”  They all grinned their welcome and asked where the babies were.  ”Right inside sleeping,” I replied, and they turned back to their snack of peanut butter sandwiches, oranges, cheese, and milk - which my hands had prepared with prayer only a little while before.  

The conversation turned silly, just as little boy conversation should, and they started a competition to see who could peel their little oranges in one piece, a game begun by Mr. D last Wednesday when he came to teach woodworking.  

“I did it!”  shouted Matthew first, holding up his intact peel for all to see. 

“I can do it in two pieces,” piped in Devin, showing his off as well.  ”What if I could glue them together again with a rock inside, so when someone tried to eat it again they would be surprised!?”  The little group laughed together at the thought and discussed other things you could put inside the orange peel if you could close it back up.

Meanwhile, Joshua, the youngest of the group, sat the most still I have ever seen him - which still included a good bit of squirming.  He was intent on getting his peel off in one piece and could hardly contain his glee when he accomplished the feat.  

Izaak ate quietly, watching the surrounding fun.  He is the oldest boy of the group, and the oldest of the boys who live in his house.  He is serious, but his rare smiles light up his face and are a privilege to the one it is bestowed upon.  

Snack was cleaned up and the boys settled again on the blanket to listen to a chapter from their read-aloud while the late-winter sun warmed their faces.  I smiled at the sight and thanked the Lord for the peace and love surrounding the children when they come to our home. 

It was the day after our first Kingdom Kids meeting. I was at the longhouse, and the kids were arriving on the vans, unloading and racing in to greet us as we directed them to the big sheets of butcher paper and the craft we had set up for them. Seeing the smiling faces, the joy, the excitement at what we offer them, never gets old. 

Devin came up to me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his hand. “Here,” he said. His smile shone, his eyes expectant. 

“What is it?” I asked. 

He opened his hand. Pencil-top erasers, five of them, in neon-colored splendor. “For your pencils!” he explained eagerly. 

I smiled, both amused and touched. “Thanks, Devin!” He ran happily off to color, leaving me to reflect on the meaning of what had just happened. In one day he’d taken an ownership in this new ministry, so much so that he had planned ahead to give me erasers to use on the pencils. It meant he wasn’t taking it for granted, and that already it had become something important in his life. 

That night I got so many questions, time and again, about when I was going to pick them up next.

“You’re picking us up tomorrow?” Matthew asked.

“Yes, and Thursday, too,” I said.

He mulled this over, then asked, “So don’t get on the bus?”

“That’s right, wait for me to get there.”

He thought again. “What if they tell me to get on the bus?”

“Well, the school should have a note from your mom.”

He looked concerned for a moment, then his face lit up. “I’ll just tell my teacher I’m going to get picked up,” he said. 

“Good thinking!” I said. 

I had several more conversations like that throughout the night, each boy concerned that they’d miss some detail and not be there for the next meeting. 

Even now, as we’ve gotten a few weeks under our belts in the program, that excitement and anticipation hasn’t died down. The boys are still loving what we’re doing. While things are not running without some rough spots, they have for the most part bought into what we’re doing, and are eating up the feast we offer them in both stories, reading skills, math skill, arts and crafts, spiritual instruction, and play. God is moving in this ministry, and our constant prayer is that it will be a key instrument in making children into well-rounded disciples of Christ.