The needs in the slums of Bangkok are immense.  The questions about how to best serve in the slums are endless.  It can feel overwhelming to try to discover what seem like the most pressing felt needs, what the roots of those problems are, how to best work toward solutions without creating dependency, how to balance addressing physical needs with the spiritual…. etc.

And in the midst of this I feel very small and kind of foolish.  I have no advanced degree, very little training in urban work, my health is unpredictable at best, I am not charismatic and I’m not all that great with kids.

But I’m beginning to see that this is all not nearly as important as I tend to believe.  My experience at our house church last week taught me this in a new way.

As usual, we had dozens of children in my house, eager to worship and learn about the Creation story (our theme for the month), and also bouncing off the walls.  I felt particularly exhausted that evening (it turned out that I probably had mono, so no wonder) which made me feel even more ineffective than usual.  Getting the kids to sit and be quiet enough that I could give instructions without screaming was nearly impossible, let alone teaching about God in a way that makes sense to them and is appealing, or addressing their many emotional and physical needs.

In the midst of the chaos, and my tiredness, I felt like God was bringing a couple of the children in particular to my attention.  They were two of the smallest ones, more malnourished, dirtier, more often violent and out-of-control, clearly suffering emotional scars caused at home.

I held each one of them in my lap, and it was like all the turmoil in their little bodies melted away for awhile.  Normally they cannot sit for more than a minute, but these two each spent a good ten minutes without moving as I held them, as if they were starved for this physical touch.

And I’ve recently noticed, more than I did before, how parents and older siblings often push away these little ones when they try to get close, or pretend to not even see them when they return home from work.  The stress and despair their families live under leaves them with little ability to love their youngest members.

I’m beginning to realize that this is something I can give.  I may feel overwhelmed by the extent of the brokenness in my slum, I may feel too tired to play high-energy games with the kids, but I can hold them sometimes.  I can affirm them and pay attention to them and in that way help them to experience a kind of unconditional love that hopefully will lead them to the Source of that love.

And it reminds me this love and this Lover are the most valuable gifts I have to give to this slum.  Something I know in my mind, but which God continues to gracefully teach my heart, with experiences like these.