In a staff meeting this week,
our boss asked us a question that he wanted us to think about: “Why are you
called to the role you are in?”
It’s a question that I don’t
think about very often, but I believe it’s one that we need to remember. I certainly remember being called. At any moment of the day I would tell you
that I am called. But I don’t often
remember why I’m called.
When I was 14, I took my first
mission trip with Back2Back. It was in
the early days when Todd and Beth rented a house in the city and they packed 20
junior high kids in the two small rooms of their first floor. I don’t remember all the details of that
trip, but there are some things I will never forget.
I remember the sense of urgency
I had to go when I first heard the trip was being offered. I remember buying one of those little throw
away cameras for every day I would be there (and using all of them). I remember barely sleeping the night before I
left, and what I picked out to wear to the airport. I’m not even sure why I was so passionate to
go. Never before had I given thought to
abandoned children living in another country.
But I remember needing to go. I
needed to meet them.
I remember arriving at Casa
Hogar Douglas the first day we arrived and seeing Karla for the first
time. She was 3 years old and wore a
matching red sweater/pantsuit outfit. Come
to think of it, that was all she wore that week. Her face had lunch on it still and I saw lice
for the first time crawling through her hair.
Every time she saw me she held her hands up for me to hold her and never
wanted me to put her down. She never
actually cried, but her big dark eyes were so sad. I held her close as much as I could, and when
it was time to leave at the end of the week, I cried like the child that I was.
The night I returned home I
remember sitting in my bed telling my dad about Karla as tears rolled down my
cheeks and my heart ached. I wanted to
go back immediately. Nothing else seemed
to matter.
So I joined another church’s
youth group, worked for my dad, and raised money to go back a few months
later. When I arrived at Douglas that
first day, Karla wasn’t there. At some point
in the previous 6 months her mom had come back to get her. As happy as I should have been for her, I was
devastated at the thought of never seeing her again, and never having the
chance to tell her how much I loved her.
Karla was the first of many to
break my heart. I could tell story after
story and give you lists of names of the children God has broken my heart with over
the last 15 years. But every morning
when I get to work, I look at a picture of Karla. Attached to it is a note Todd wrote me when
he gave the picture to me. “Tallie, you
have a great servant heart. Don’t forget
it. Mr. G”
I know why God called me. Hundreds of sponsors that I work with every
day are desperate to stay in touch with a child they love, just like I was. I get to help them continue to pour into one
child’s life, and see the impact that it has on the children we serve. That’s why I love every day I get to come to
work. That’s why God called me.
