YES! THAT'S IT!

Rio San Juan, Nicaragua.

I was 16 and I wanted to play soccer with my mission team friends and some natives. But I couldn't. My stomach was hurting and I was bummed. Instead of kicking a ball around with Nicaraguans, I had to sit on the side of the field beside one of the main dirt roads in the town. It was just me sitting there wishing that I wasn't. I would occasionally look behind me to watch people walk along the walk way, wondering if that big fat pig was still wallowing in mud pit in the middle of the road.

At a distance I saw a small, beautiful Nicaraguan girl wearing a pink dress and carrying an open umbrella. She walked closer and closer to me. She gave out a big proud greeting.

"Hola!"
I couldn't resist. "Hola! Como te llamas? (Hi, what's your name?)
"Rosa!" she said as she sat down beside me.
Pretty soon children kept coming. Boys and girls. The boys were just getting out of school and they were wearing there nice, white button up shirts and dress shorts.

We all sat in a circle and I talked to them in my broken Spanish. I don't remember everything we talked about, but I remember singing songs in Spanish like "Abre Mis Ojos" (Open the Eyes of My Heart Lord) and this one that has been a kid's ministry staple in my church:

"I like bananas
I think that mangoes are sweet
I like papayas
But nothing can beat that sweet love of God" (but we sang it in Spanish and did crazy hand motions)

I still remember some of their names: Rosa, Jamalise, Pablo, and... well that's all I remember. But that time under that tree was ten times better than getting to play soccer.

Sapporo, Japan

I was 19, eating some Japanese food and drinking weird tea. I looked up to see my youth pastor talking to the senior pastor of the church and pointing at me. What?

Later on, my youth pastor approached me to let me know that I was teaching kids church the next Sunday. What? I nodded my head and said, "Yeah, okay. I can do that. Sounds fun." He told me that he wouldn't be there, in fact, no one on the mission team would be there with me. I nodded my head again. What? I don't even speak Japanese. What am I even gonna talk about to a bunch of kids who don't speak my language? 

Sunday rolled around. My mission team prayed for me before the long van ride to some random church an hour away. I was in the back seat praying under my breath non-stop and reading the Bible--not because what I was reading was what I was teaching about, but just because it was the Bible. We got to the church and piled in the tiny sanctuary (a 50 people-sized one). After every worship song I begged God that the team would play another. C'mon, c'mon. Another one! Please! But one time, the band ended a song and started walking back to their seats. Great. It's time now. 

I got to meet the woman who would translate for me. Her name was Atsko. We walked with the group of kids down the street to the play ground on the other side. There was a cute gazebo in the middle of the playground. Atsko said something in Japanese and all the kids ran to sit down under the gazebo. She introduced me to the kids and then I started talking. I would say one sentence in English, pause, and let Atsko translate for me. I forgot what I started to say, but I remember bringing a piece of flash paper with the Japanese character for "sin" (sumi) written on it.

"This is what God's love can do to your sin." I struck a lighter, held the flame to the edge of the paper, and threw it in the air. It disappeared in front of their eyes.

I told them more about Satan and how he wants to steal joy from their hearts when bad things happen, but God can give them a new heart and take away the sin that ruins their lives.

Atsko raised her voice and asked them something in Japanese. The response was overwhelming. All but two kids raised up their hands and shouted "HI!" which means "yes."
She turned to me and said, "I asked them if they want God to give them a new heart. They said yes. Do you want to lead them in a prayer?" I said that she could.

That day, little Japanese children started a relationship with Jesus.

I've had lots of other experiences like those with children from the U.S.

When I think about all those sweet times I've got to play and sing and talk about Jesus to kids, I think "Hm, maybe this is something I wanna do for the rest of my life."

Maybe I wanna fill up kids minds with crazy ideas like the God of the whole universe cares about you and your tummy aches. He wants you to have fun and love growing up. I want to make them believe that they can change the world and be missionaries even if they're 9 years old. Who cares?

Yeah... I just might do that.