Truth be told, I just wanted to go to the concert. When my Mom asked if I wanted to volunteer with Compassion I figured it would be a good way to get to see the concert for free. So I said yes.
I didn't really have the time to go. My life had become overwhelmed by Christmas program planning, working extra hours, and there were plenty of things at home I could have done instead.
But I've always been a big Michael W. Smith fan. I mean, there were posters on the wall of my teenage bedroom. I went to every concert. I bought t-shirts. I owned every album. Perhaps my following of him had waned a bit in the years since junior high. Still, his music was good. And nothing beats some of his Christmas songs that my Mom still plays every year when we decorate the tree at her house.
Mom sent me a link and I filled out the online form saying I would help at the event. I had done this once before and it hadn't been the best experience. Nothing had gone "wrong". I just hadn't been very successful. This time, Mom and I were going to be "table volunteers". It sounded more my style than wandering the aisles of the arena.
We quickly made our way to the event. We got a great parking spot. A very friendly gentleman saw us approaching and opened the door and showed us where to go. We were greeted by a friendly volunteer in a Compassion vest. Then there came the training. I was initially unsure about all of this. Forms can be intimidating. I also didn't know if I would feel very comfortable showing someone how to use the ipad to search for a child to sponsor, etc.
Before we knew it, Mom and I were sitting behind a table. A table covered in faces of children. Children in need of hope.
Mom started laying her hands on their packets as the people walked by - eager to get to their seats inside. As she prayed I looked down and read some of their names. I couldn't pronounce very many but what I did understand was some of the other information on the packet. Some children had been waiting 580 days for a sponsor. You see, no one picks them because they are older kids. And much like adoption, people are looking for the cute, young children - not the 15 year old girl. Some of those packets had small symbols indicating that that particular child was at risk for HIV/AIDS. Some had a symbol that indicated they were at a high risk of being a victim of human trafficking. And some kids, some had all 3 symbols.
I looked down at the faces of two children. A little boy and a little girl. Both with several of those markers on the outsides of their packets. They are the ones, Lord, I prayed. These two. If no one else - let these two get chosen tonight.
We did go in and listen to a few songs before the intermission. And then it was time to head back to our table. I sat. But I wouldn't be sitting for long.
I was pleasantly surprised when a few people stepped up. They scanned the table and chose a packet. I helped them fill out the form inside. It was easy. They went on their way - their eyes full of a new hope and a tender love. Immediately someone else stepped up to the table. I pointed out some of those symbols that indicated who had been waiting the longest, who was most at risk for AIDS, who was at risk of being trafficked. And then there was another couple. Another man. A woman looking for a little girl to sponsor. I was helping three people at once. So were the other 3 volunteers at my table.
One gentleman stepped up to the table asking to sponsor a child born on a certain birthday. We got out the ipad, typed in the date, and a sweet face came up. He sponsored that one and then another with a different specific birthdate. Perhaps his children or grandchildren's birthdays. I don't know. But those days they were significant to him. And they are significant to children who will know his name soon.
We could barely keep up. I pointed out the packets of those two children I had prayed over and they were selected early. I pointed out other packets of older children who had been waiting for more than a year for a sponsor and they were selected quickly. There were groups of women who came forward and each one sponsored a child and then with a nervous, delighted laugh declared that they had a new daughters.
I was busy answering questions and helping people search through the packets when one woman handed me a packet in her hands. "I want to sponsor this one," she said. "Wonderful!" I answered with a warm smile. And as I was about to pull out the registration form, she said, "And I will take this one too." Her hands picked up another packet off the table. "His birthday is the day my son died."
I had no words. I still don't know if I do. I could only nod.
I helped her fill out her forms and then I looked at her and I said, "Because of the timing of all of this, these kids will find out that they have a sponsor on Christmas Day."
She smiled, her fingers wrapping around the packets of two children. One she had chosen on her own. Another God had chosen just for that night, just for that table, just for her eyes. He knew when that child was born that that birthdate would one day mean something to someone on the other side of the world. Someone who would choose to love out of a place of great loss. And oh that sounds just like something He would do, doesn't it?
I counted the forms that night at the end. More than 40 children from just our table. There were 2 other tables on other sides of the arena.
The music, yes, it was good. The songs that all is well and that Emmanuel is with us rang out over my table - my table with the "empty" places. Empty places because so many had chosen to fill and empty place in a child's life on the other side of the world. Thirty-eight fewer dollars a month for us. A world of new possibilities and hope for them.
God with us in the best possible way.
Maybe, just maybe, your child is waiting here.
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