Story about Jenniah better known as "our girl, 'Niah"
I had the distinct privilege of working alongside Hannah
Livingston aka “Droodle Face” or as I believe she’s best been called, “Noodle
Head” for the first 6 weeks of the summer. She wrote a blog or two about base
camps and so details about the work we did or shared experiences can be read on
her site Art of the Heart. But there is an event we shared that we didn’t revisit
and relive as much as the others though in reflection I’m not sure why. Most of
the summer I read my counselors stories out of other people’s books and
biographies, they were simple and big ways the Lord had revealed himself in
their lives and it gave us all hope that He would do the same with our campers
and the same with us. And towards the end of my time shepherding my girls for
the summer I realized over and over the Lord has allowed me to witness my own
big and simple moving of my Savior in my ‘ordinary’ life and the powerful ways
He has moved in our campers as well. I was broken and realized I needed to quit
reading others words and speak what I’ve seen the Lord do. *
So if it’s alright I’d like to share an encounter now:
Week 4 was the last full week in June for this summer and
our traveling camp found itself in Tuscaloosa, AL. Maybe not a thriving
metropolis, but not the smallest town we had been to either. It was hot like
Texas which the locals assured us was unusual and premature for this year’s
weather. I tolerated the tour of the University of Alabama (go Aggies) and was
shown true southern hospitality by my beautiful host family and got to drive
the 15 passenger van to carpool everyone to the church in the morning. It was truly a great week.
Working at camp we measure our summers by weeks, skit
characters, campers, and the mishaps or schedule shifts that make each day as
unique and eventful as gold fish’s memory. This week for me was marked by a
specific family of campers. And sadly I don’t even know their last names. There
were roughly 14 kids in this family or so I was told, some siblings and some
cousins. The family are tornado victims, the moms are sisters living in a
trailer with all their kids. No dad is present in the home. A young woman from
the church some how crossed paths with the kids and got involved in their
lives, her and her mom carpooled the 10 who were within base camp age range to
the church everyday. There were 6 boys who came and 4 girls, the 3 oldest girls
were handfuls in their own right but some how they had wrapped all of us around
their finger especially the baby of the girls- Jenniah. Jenniah is going into
first grade, she is so tiny it was hard to believe and so joyful you would never
imagine her hardship. All week it was my favorite thing to visit the youngest
girls cabins just to see sweet ‘Niah, as we lovingly nicknamed her, interact
with her counselors, cabin mates, and siblings. On the last day I noticed ‘Niah
and her counselor having a hang time during sock wrestling and soon after that
her counselor, Droodle Face, came to find me. Fighting back tears, Hannah told
me what Jenniah had just shared with her about her life. Apparently her mom
kicked out her dad at some point because he used to hit Jenniah. I was angry
and upset. I went to talk to our director about what to do and sadly there
wasn’t much we could do. The dad isn’t in the home anymore, and if he’s moved
our or kicked out CPS has no one to stop if he isn’t there.
I was afraid and mad by my lack of control. I could not
protect our precious baby ‘Niah and I couldn’t help her. I trapsed back to the
sock wrestling room defeated and now on the verge of tears, I peaked my head in
and called Hannah out. As I explained the helplessness to her she nodded her
head and then called for Jenniah to come out to the hallway. I picked up the
sweet child and squeezed her close to me as I hugged her and held her, knowing
this is the last day of camp, probably the last time I’d see her and the last
time I would know I was making her safe. And in that moment Droodle said, “Tell
spirit stick about your dream” taken aback but still holding her I leaned away
from her and said, “Oooh what dream ‘Niah?” “Tell me, please”
Last night I went to bed and I had a dream I left my house
and went away
R: Where’d you go?
N: To heaven
R: To heaven?
N: Yes, And I was there a loooong time.
R: What did you do there?
N: I saw God.
R: You saw God?
N: Yes, and He gave me a rock.
R: A rock!
N: And He told me pray with this rock and accept me.
R: So Jesus is your rock?
N: Yes.
H:Last night you asked Jesus into your heart, huh?
N:Yes.
(Tears are rolling down my face)
N: Uh oh your eyes
R: I know they’re watering like yours (Niah had a bacterial
eye infection from living in a dirty and unsanitary environment, she took eye
drops twice a day at camp)
N: Lets go to the nurse
R: No, no, I’m ok I’ll be ok.
R: That’s so wonderful about God, though, so wonderful
(She smiles, slides down from me holding her up at face
level and walks back in)
I look at Hannah press my hand to my heart and let her
follow Jenniah back into sock wrestling. I know what Hannah and ‘Niah had
figured out way before me hearing about the dream was that her circumstances
are uncontrollable and her future is uncertain. And is much as I would like to
move to Alabama, I can’t. But God has her. Boy does he have her. He revealed
himself in a dream to this precious 5 year old.
So much of what the Lord revealed to me this summer was a
greater sense of urgency for His gospel to be met with a greater boldness in
His calling on my life. I worked to press that on to the hearts of my
counselors and fellow staffers, I would ask about missed opportunities and the
root of our personal issues/ sin that kept us from sharing the Gospel. Good
things to think through and process through, to get to a deeper understanding
of what God has for us here on earth. But yet again He shows me and reminds me
that He does not in fact need me. The pressure is not on, the burden is light,
and my failures covered. He will reveal Himself to His people and sometimes if
I am willing and anticipating He will choose to loose me as vessel.
.
*(Not that others words are bad, heaven knows I will keep
referencing Bob Goff and Shauna Niequist as long as they keep writing about
Jesus.)
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