No Difference

Erase all that’s different between us. – Geoff Moore

Every time I come on a mission trip, I have a purpose. Take photos. Write stories. Shoot video. I jump from person to person, looking for a good photo opportunity or listening for a good story. It’s part of my job. And it keeps me busy… which I like, in a way, because it prevents me from getting too attached. It helps me keep my heart in tact.

But this week has been different. For some reason, early in the week, I asked God to do something for me. I asked him to show Himself to me in a new way. I didn’t want to be numb. I didn’t want to miss His work. I’m not sure why I asked for this because if I had thought about it logically, I would have known that it would make my job harder. I think I even asked for this in one of those “passing thought” prayers…not even in a serious one. But God answered it for me anyway. He allowed me to meet Edwin.

We drove more than five long hours to Xela on Tuesday to spend a little less than two hours in a couple of different orphanages. I admit, somewhere along the long, bumpy road, I questioned whether or not this was the best idea knowing we would only be there for a short time. But God knew what he was doing. We visited Hogar Temporal Queteltenango, an orphanage for boys and girls of all ages. I wandered around taking photos of different people and different kids, jumping from station to station to try and capture all the special moments people were having with their new friends.

I happened to walk past a boy in a wheelchair who was sitting all alone, with a new pair of shoes in his lap. Something moved me and I decided to ask him if I could help him with his new shoes. His face lit up as he nodded his head yes. And then I did something I rarely do when I’m on these trips – I stopped taking pictures and I sat down.

I helped Edwin remove his old socks, found him some new ones, and started to put on his new shoes. It was difficult to do since he couldn’t move his legs. I had to wedge his foot into them and squeeze the toe of the shoe to make sure they fit. He was talking to me the entire time, much of which I couldn’t understand. His disability made his speech slow, and the language barrier only compounded the confusion. So we laughed together instead. Put his hat on different ways. And when we finished, I stepped back into my photographer role and took his picture.

I do not think I will ever need to look at that picture again. His face is burned into my heart. His smile. That fleeting look of pure happiness. It’s mine forever.

I would later learn that Edwin is especially smart. I couldn’t understand him, but he’s one of the only boys or girls in the orphanage who speaks English. He has a sister with special needs named Jessica and they love each other very much. I’m so thankful they have each other, because orphans with special needs very rarely get special treatment. Most remain institutionalized their entire lives.

Wednesday night after dinner we listened to Geoff Moore sing some of his songs as he shared his calling to international adoption and his passion for serving orphans. My heart fell to pieces when I heard him sing these lyrics:

Erase all that’s different between us.
I want to love like you love…
Until the difference is erased.

Edwin and I do not have much in common. He’s a boy. I’m a girl. He’s Guatemalan. I’m American. He’s disabled. I’m not. He’s without parents and I have two of the best. But then there’s something between us that’s exactly the same. We are both wholly loved by a perfect God who chooses to redeem us and even reveal Himself to us so that we may know him more. And so we can grow more in love with what he loves each and every day.

I pray that if you are reading this, that your heart can be broken like mine. I pray that you will know God’s love to be true and real. And that you might find yourself, like I did, when you put aside your own agenda and open your eyes to see what God sees and love what God loves.

- Jenny Pope