Painted hands

The Jeep coughed, spluttered, and died. This event happens with enough regularity that it has ceased to surprise us; however, the disappointment inherent in the experience never grows stale. This time, in particular, there was good reason to feel frustration at our capricious vehicle. We were on our way to a children’s program, the director of which was a passenger in our vehicle. On a second try, however, the jeep showed a semblance of cooperation when it carried us another 20 feet towards our destination. Jackson, Alex, and Karen got out to push while the jeep struggled gamely down the road. One more try, and the jeep was ready to cooperate, albeit not without emitting strangled cries and noxious fumes as it limped down the road. This time however, it was necessary for Anthony to ride the brake to keep from hurtling too fast down the bumpy road. There was not enough time for Karen, Jackson, and Alex to get back in the car, especially as we feared to stop this last effort of the ailing jeep. It happened, therefore, that the jeep carried Anthony and myself the remainder of the way, while the rest of the hapless team were left to walk. The ride took it’s toll on Anthony and I, however, for though we were spared the hot and dusty walk, we were forced to inhale large quantities of fumes, which no doubt shortened our lifespan considerably.
When the team was finally united at the site of the children’s program, we began the program without further delay. Our program was kicked off to a promising start by a round of singing, in which we were accompanied by a recording, adding much to the prestige and general volume of the event. Rounds of singing were interspersed with bible stories and a skit, in the which, an enthusiastic David managed to slay the giant Goliath, who fell on his spear with considerable dramatic effect. After another round of singing, it was time to commence the children’s activities. We divided the children up into groups according to age, and had each of them perform a different activity. In the particular group I was involved with, a passel of 5-7 year olds were given paint with which to paint some stones they had picked up from the road. Black, Green, Red, and Yellow were duly applied to the stones by the fingers, with a wide margin of outcomes. Some of the finished products were dismal, while others showed signs of budding artistic talent. There was one factor, however, which unified all their efforts. The children had invariably managed to smear the majority of their hands with paint. They surveyed their hands with interest, and were evidently relieved to find that the paint would come off with water, but in the meantime were content to dash about, showcasing their art to Jenni, friends, and the occasional passing motocar. I was in a state of high anxiety lest they should manage to collide or otherwise come in contact with me, as I was in my church clothes, and did not wish them to be smeared with paint. However, as I sidled this way and that in an attempt to avoid the stampede of dirty-handed children, a striking parallel occurred to me. Insofar as the children’s hands were covered in paint, all of us have a nature of sin, and that while we were yet covered in the filth and rottenness of sin, Christ, the sinless one, was willing to come down and touch us. While we were yet covered by darkness, groping for light like blind men, Christ came to show us the way. He was not afraid to let us touch him, unlike the Pharisees, who despised the unclean, and feared lest their uncleanness should mar their appearance. No, Christ let all come to him, and touch him, that they might know a better way. What an example to us.
The rest of the children’s program passed without a hitch. Please pray that these dear children may see a portion of the masters face, and feel a little of his touch when we interact with them.