The Whole World in His Hands

Our dog barks. I turn over in bed and look at my phone to check the time. It’s 3:30 a.m.

“Really?” I ask myself. “Are the boys already here this early?”

I wait another 15 minutes before dragging myself out of bed. The dog barks again as more boys arrive outside. I get dressed, crack open the front door, and see 40 or so young boys waiting outside our gate.

One afternoon a week we feed about 200 religious students—boys who have been sent to our town to learn the Quran and who are obliged to beg for their own food.

These children have no idea where their next meal will come from.

We hand out meal tickets in the morning, mostly on a first-come-first-served basis. These children have no idea where their next meal will come from, and they often go a whole day or more without finding anything to eat. I guess that’s why they come earlier and earlier every week—to get at least one guaranteed hot meal.

I open the gate into our yard, and the boys rush in to take a seat on the sand and wait for their ticket. More boys come running down the street to get in before we reach the limit.

I turn and look at the lot of them. Each boy brings in dozens of flies with him. God knows when they last bathed. Some have scabies from not washing thoroughly or often enough. Many have colds, and I shudder as they hack up their lungs and blow their snot all over the ground where my three children will be playing in just a few more hours.

I pass out the tickets and try to smile. The boys all leave, but I’m pretty sure the germs and flies do not.

What kind of sickness will my kids be getting in the next couple of days because I let these boys into our yard? Is my stomach going to pinch up today because I didn’t wash my hands well enough after handing out the tickets? Is any of this worth it?

Five days later, my seven-year-old son goes to bed with a hacking dry cough. My wife has an itchy throat, and our 14-month-old is sneezing.

“Is it worth it?” I wonder again. “Why do I allow these germs into my home? If we just didn’t feed these boys, then we wouldn’t be as bombarded with the germs and many of the dirty flies that hover around our house.”

I sit in a chair reading while my wife sings to the kids as they get ready for bed. I hear our seven-year-old stop her suddenly.

“Mom, quick give me some paper and crayons. I don’t want to forget this picture.”

“Can’t this wait until morning?” she asks.

“No,” he says. “I’ll forget it.”

A few minutes later our son brings me the picture he drew.

Following Jesus may lead us down paths that we wouldn’t always choose.

“This is a picture of our family on the earth, and Jesus is holding us in His hands,” he says.

He gives me a hug and goes to bed. I’m left with a simple reminder from a small child: Jesus has us in His hands. I guess I don’t need to worry after all. No wonder Jesus says, “Unless you turn and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3).

Loving people isn’t always going to be easy. Following Jesus may lead us down paths that we wouldn’t always choose. It’s going to be hard at times. We may even get our hands dirty.

But it is worth it. People are worth it. Jesus is worth it. He has my family in His hands. He has the whole world in His hands.

• Please pray for God to protect and deliver vulnerable Muslim children, and pray they will know and love Christ.
• Praise God for faithful field workers who are following Jesus down difficult paths, and pray they will persevere in serving the least of these.
• Ask the Lord to call more laborers to the harvest and equip them to proclaim the hope of the Gospel to Muslim men, women, and children.