I’ve been asking God to teach me to love beyond my capacity. I thought it would come through a subtle change in heart. I thought it would be easy. I never thought it would hurt. I never thought it would expose my heart, leaving me in utter vulnerability and brokenness.
During the first couple weeks of the trip, I remember walking through a trail, asking some of my teammates about their lives and what their passions were. One said she was studying special education. I told her how I thought it was so respectable and honorable, but it was a ministry I didn’t think I could ever do. Then I met Edward.
Edward is a boy in Kyampisi that has a mental disability. He was kidnapped for a month for child sacrifice. The church helped the family locate and find him. Edward returned much worse than before.
Whenever all the kids run and jump on us, Edward joins in but no one can hold him because he is much bigger than the other kids. I would get annoyed with him at times, yet he would still follow me around. I tried to love him as much as I could, but my love wasn’t much.
The past few days, my team did a crusade in the village. We were staying there four nights, working, serving, and loving. It was so much fun and fulfilling. We gardened, built an addition to a house and a well, and evangelized, but these were not the most impacting moments. The humbling, heart-breaking, and life-changing experiences came from staying in some of the houses of church members. I got to stay with Edward’s family.
My brokenness did not arise from sleeping on a dirt floor with cats and chickens roaming around or from the bland, dry food or even from mere exhaustion; but brokenness came, and it hurt.
The first couple days, I spent a lot of time with Edward. He would hold my hand everywhere we went and in every situation. He would annoy me at times, but I had compassion and loved him anyway; except the amount of love I had to give seemed to be running out.
Day 3: I remember him running up to me after I’d been working in the garden for a couple hours and asking for my water and then drank it all. Then he grabbed my hand and we walked home. I was thinking to myself that I couldn’t wait to drop him off so I could relax. Immediately the Lord responded, “You asked to learn how to love beyond your capacity.”
Day 4: I was trying to be intentional in loving Edward. It was going well until we started playing Frisbee. He started ripping the disc out of other kids’ hands and became very aggressive. I would pull it away from him to show him he needs to share. All I got back was biting and punching. After holding him away a couple times, he went home. I started walking alone to get away. I was torn between love and comfort. I didn’t want to keep loving him, but I wanted to love beyond my capacity.
I asked the Lord to take me deeper. The pain went deeper. I was breaking.
I fell to my knees and cried out to the Lord. I started giving up my will, my self-consciousness, and my comforts. After a moment of stillness, a large weight was pulled off of me, and I began to feel love, a love that was greater than myself.
