The Color of Celebration

How do you celebrate a child in a world that has abandoned them? 

It’s a question we ask ourselves daily. It’s something we pray God will help us do everyday.

On Saturday, we did it this way.

We had a Celebrating You Party. Lollipops were sucked and faces were painted. Happy smiles and bright eyes flashed and giggles floated in the dry, hot African morning.

I love sitting the child down, letting him feel the paint go over his face. I love how he melts in the undivided attention for just a few minutes. In a world where the child is given no choices, I love allowing him to choose his colors.

The squirmiest child sits still as the paint swirls on his cheek. He drinks in the celebration. As I show the reflection of him in the mirror, the tiger boy staring back at himself, he giggles and makes faces. In a world where children grow up too early, I love allowing him to be an innocent child for a few minutes.

As I tip his chin, gently hold his cheek, paint blue on his nose– I pray for his future. I pray someone will come and claim him as their very own. I pray he will experience love and celebration by a real mom and a real dad–and a real God.

I paint only his face.

God is painting his story.

It seems to me that a lot of greys and blacks have been used on his canvas. I pray for an explosion of  grace, swirled in happy colors, in his young life, very soon. He is waiting.

And then realization softly comes to me. I can add a happy color to his canvas of grey: if only swirl, a dot of celebration.

A smile, a tiger face, a lollipop, a tight hug, a story, a cup of cold water, a toss of a ball, a dish of food, a loving word: it is the color of celebration.

A bright, powerful color. God’s favorite color. 

Le’ts paint the world wildly with the color, starting with the person next to us and  then pouring it onto the 147 million orphans.

They are within our brush-stroke, if we just reach our hand out and feel. 

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