I fell in love today. The object of my affection has the smoothest brown skin, perfectly braided corn rows, long curled eyelashes and the saddest pout I have ever seen. His name is Logan, and he’s three years old. His mom is a part of the ministry, Heart Change, aimed at helping women learn who they are in Christ, as well as gaining life skills and earning their GED.
Apparently little Logan usually doesn’t warm up to others very quickly. The first day he arrived at this program, he had some choice words for one of the classroom leaders. Words that probably should not be coming from any child, let alone a three-year-old.
I have no idea why he made a quick connection with me, but I do know that the minute he looked up at me with his big eyes and pouty lips, with arms open to signal the “pick me up” message, I fell head over heels for this boy. As I held him, it was as if my spirit instantly took the cue to pray for little Logan. Before I could even think through the words, I was asking for God to protect this little boy. I prayed that he would not become a product of his environment but that God would give him a courageous but soft heart. I do not know his story. I only know that his mother is committed to providing a better life for Logan and his siblings.
Several times throughout the day, I had to run after this little guy who wanted to venture down the hallway. Other times I had to pull him away from the other children because he would hit, scratch or push one of them. Even so, I saw a gentleness, a sweetness in him. After all he, too, is an image bearer of God.
When I said goodbye to him, I felt a lump forming in my throat. I don’t know if I’ll see Logan again. That is the nature of this ministry my friend runs, but my hope is that I will get another chance to hold him. To love him. To pray for him.
If I don’t I know that God has heard my prayers for this little guy. I trust that somehow in his three-year-old little life, the love he receives at Heart Change will somehow reach him when he faces peer pressure at the too-young age of 10, and again when he is contemplating his choices at 15, and even as he enters the often harsh world of adulthood. May the Spirit of God continue to nudge him.
I am thankful that I was able to be a “planter” of some of this love in Logan’s life. Even if he doesn’t remember the woman who donned the goofy police hat for him, may he remember the feeling of acceptance and nurture throughout his life. His hugs were his simple but profound gift to me. A gift I didn’t ask for nor expect but, because of God’s goodness, were received with much gratitude.