Kisses from Katie

by Katie J. Davis

  Okay, then. She would live in Uganda. But she held on to her love because remaining comfortable was so much easier than dealing with the hurt and the emptiness would be.

  Even though he fully supported her work in Uganda and visited when he could, he never seemed quite able to envision himself living the life she embraced. She wanted to live in both worlds, but it was becoming impossible. Her eyes were opened and her life was changed. She couldn’t pretend to be the same person. She couldn’t sit still in his world anymore; it made her head spin and her heart ache. And still she held on because she didn’t love him any less. She knew God could move mountains and she prayed God would change his heart. After all, such a love must have been God orchestrated.

  He made her feel beautiful as she walked through life as a single mom covered in dust and spit-up. He appreciated her even when everyone else forgot to say “Thank you.” He believed in her when the rest of the world said raising $80,000 or adopting ten children was silly. Even from the other side of the world, he cheered her on and he picked her up when she just didn’t feel strong enough. His voice on the other end of the phone turned a rough day right around.

  They were moving in opposite directions. They both knew it, but they both refused to let go.

  So she asked God for a very specific sign, for something she thought very unlikely, if not absolutely impossible. And then something devastating happened. God gave her the sign that she asked for. So she kissed him good-bye and drove away and cried so hard that she doubted she would ever breathe again. She tried not to wonder if anyone would ever love her like that again or how she would do her life all alone.

  And that’s when He reminded her that she wasn’t alone at all, that He would make her feel beautiful as a single mom covered in dust and spit-up. He let her know that He appreciated her even when everyone else forgot to say “Thank you,” that He believed in her when the rest of the world thought everything she did was crazy, that He would cheer her on and pick her up when she just didn’t feel strong enough. He told her that His voice whispering in her ear would turn those rough days right around, that He would always be faithful, that His love would be unconditional. He reminded her that He, her one true love, would never leave or forsake her and would give her the desires of her heart. That He would make all things new, even her shattered heart.

  I still cry when I read these words I wrote so long ago. I still feel the sharp pain of that loss. The thought of spending eternity with Jesus, however, makes the pain seem trivial and momentary. That thought reminds me quickly that I want to forsake everything to remain in the center of God’s will for my life, that I want to give up everything for the sake of the Gospel. I believe with all of my heart that nothing is a sacrifice in light of the promise that one day I will get to live with Him forever. I want to obey. I want to give my life away.

  The life that I live is full and joyful and wonderful, but it is not easy. It certainly is not glamorous. I do not expect it to be. In my NIV Bible, the header above Luke 9:57–62 reads: “The Cost of Following Jesus.” Here it is, plain and simple, laid out for me by the Lord.

  As they were walking along the road, a man said to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” He said to another man, “Follow me.” But the man replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say good-bye to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts His hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God” (italics mine).

  Sometimes, I am so tempted to look back, but I do not want to. I want to only look forward to what He is going to do.

  A little later, at Luke 14:25–33, Jesus tells the crowds gathered around Him,

  If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? For if he lays the foundation and is not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule him saying, “This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.” Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and ask for terms of peace. In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.

  In the days of Jesus, He expected everything of His disciples. Do I believe He requires the same today?

  I do. And I want to live like I believe it.

  I do not claim to have the answers. I do not claim to be “doing it right.” I do claim to believe that the words of Jesus are absolutely true and apply to me, right now today. I want to give everything, no matter the cost. No matter the cost. Because I believe that nothing is a sacrifice in light of eternity with Christ.

  ONE DAY . . .

  Monday, November 16, 2009

  I decided to check my Facebook today.

  The first thing I saw when I opened it were pictures of my awesome little brother (though he’s much bigger than I am) when he signed as a lacrosse player at Bellarmine University. I cannot describe how proud of him I am! He is officially a Bellarmine Knight, going to a Division 1 lacrosse school on scholarship! While this is so exciting, it doesn’t begin to be the reason I am the proud big sister I am. My brother, Brad, may be the most kindhearted, loyal, genuine guy I know. He loves Jesus, his family, and his friends; they always come first. He is an extremely talented athlete but may still be the most humble guy you will meet. My husband one day may have his work cut out for him, because Brad has taught me what it is to be treated like the most important lady in someone’s life. His is a shoulder to cry on and a friend to laugh at everything with. I miss him more every day.

  As I looked at the beautiful pictures, I could not hold back the tears, because you see, these pictures are missing something. It’s me. The part of my heart that will always stay in Brentwood, Tennessee, with my sweet family throbbed and ached. I longed to be there with them.

  Every day of my life is filled with immense joy—more joy than anyone ever deserves. I know the joy that comes from knowing Christ died for me and longing to give my whole life to serving Him. The joy that comes from standing in the center of His will and just watching Him orchestrate everything perfectly. The joy that comes from being able to look into a little brown face that seems hopeless and tell her that Jesus loves her. The joy that comes from being called “Mommy.” But that does not mean it doesn’t hurt to be so far away from the ones I love so much—hurt deep in the pit of my stomach, where Paul’s words “I want to know the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like Him in death” ring true. I believe that when Jesus said I must “leave [my] father and mother and follow after Him,” He was not kidding.

  Today was one of the heartache days. Some days I just long for my mother’s smile as I walk in the door, my dad’s bear hug when he gets home every night, and late nights of movies, ice cream, and laughter with Brad.

  Missing things will be a part of my life in Uganda, because I will rarely be able to be with my American family and my Ugandan family at the same time. But “the Kingdom of Heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold everything he had and bought that field.” Missing things hurts my heart sometimes, but always serves as a gentle reminder to me that giving up everything really is worth it. Hard and worth it.

  19

  A JJA JA FOR US

  In Mases
e, it was dark. It was quiet. The cold rain dripped through her thatched roof into her house of about four feet by four feet, soaking through the thin sheet she wrapped around her skeletal, frail body. Her bones ached against the hard dirt floor and her feeble body shivered with cold. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, making sleep impossible.

  Grace was sixty-five years old, though when I met her I thought she must have been eighty because of the way poverty, illness, and other hardships had aged her. She was totally blind and all alone. Her HIV had progressed into full-blown AIDS, making it impossible for her tiny body to fight off any type of infection. A merciless cough, caused by tuberculosis, racked her body. In despair she cried out to God, a God she has not spoken to in twenty years, believing He had forsaken her when AIDS took her precious husband and four children from this earth, and when her other two children, who later died of AIDS, abandoned her in search of a better life. She wailed to Him and asked if He could hear her. She knew her life was nearing its end. She desperately wanted to believe in something, anything, before she departed this world. She begged the Lord, if He was indeed real, to send her a friend, a visitor, some kind of sign that someone cared. She fell asleep shivering, with a plastic trash bag over her head to keep the rain off her face.

  Completely unaware of an old woman’s passionate prayer, I made the familiar trek into Masese the next day. As usual, I bandaged wounds, administered malaria tests, and kissed foreheads with Patricia strapped to my back. A woman from our beading group said she had heard of an elderly blind woman who might need some assistance. So I grabbed my dear friend Tamara and headed deep into the village in the direction in which we had been pointed.

  I was not prepared for the sight that met my eyes.

  Grace was indeed old and blind, but those realities only scratched the surface of her troubles. Frankly, I stood there looking at her for a few minutes, marveling at the fact that she was still alive. Her body was hardly strong enough to sit upright, certainly not able to stand or walk. She had not eaten in three days, and she hadn’t been able to see for the past five years.

  She can’t weigh more than eighty-five pounds, I thought.

  What most caught my attention was the eerie silence that surrounded her house, in the very back of the village near a trash pile. All of her neighbors had gone to work their menial jobs or do whatever they did to pass their time. Even the wind seemed quiet that day.

  I thought for a moment that Grace’s tiny mud house was exceptionally dark inside, and then I remembered that for her, it was already dark anyway. I embraced this sweet woman, patted her back, and kissed her cheeks; and I told her that Jesus loves her and I love her.

  “He does!” she exclaimed. “He has sent me visitors as I asked!”

  Her excitement turned to a whisper. “I wanted to stop believing. I did not think God cared for me. Lord, I believe in You.”

  Tears streamed down both of our faces and together we began to pray to our Father, who sees and hears and answers even the smallest of our requests.

  That day was just the beginning of lots of time spent with Grace. I immediately began to take her food a few times a week, and her neighbor helped her cook it every day. We went to many, many doctors’ appointments getting treatment for her TB, blood transfusions, and lots of vitamins. When I took the girls to meet her, they instantly fell in love and immediately adopted her as their jja ja.

  Before long, the girls and I had developed a habit of packing a picnic lunch and heading over to Jja Ja Grace’s house to share a meal with her, read the Bible, sing, and dance. The girls loved it and Grace loved having her tiny home filled with noise and laughter.

  Of course, she could hear the girls’ happy chatter and giggles and she could feel their soft, loving touches as they patted her on the arm or gave her gentle hugs. And soon, she was able to see them too! When she began eating nutritious food and taking multivitamins, her sight improved dramatically. She certainly didn’t have twenty-twenty vision, but she could see. She was thrilled and we were thrilled for her.

  On Christmas Day 2009, we ate lunch at her house and God gave all of us the most beautiful Christmas gift (second only to His Son, of course!): Jja Ja Grace, who just months ago had been too weak to stand, began to walk. She walked around the outside of her entire house, praising the Lord the whole time. As neighbors came to watch and ask what had happened, many asked us to pray with them as they accepted Jesus. Grace’s testimony was changing lives right before our eyes.

  About three months later, the girls and I went to visit Jja Ja Grace and were surprised to see that the food we had sent her for the week remained uncooked and uneaten. She said the neighbor who had been helping her cook the food had moved away three days ago, and she had not eaten since. I asked her how she had been taking her medicine, and she said she simply felt around for each of her five packets of medicine and swallowed one pill from each. This presented a problem, as her pills were all different, some to be taken three times a day, some to be taken two at a time, some to be taken with food, and some without. This arrangement clearly was not going to work.

  After talking to more of Grace’s neighbors and finding no one who was willing or even able to help, the thought struck me: We are going to have to move Jja Ja Grace in with us. To say that this idea overwhelmed me is an extreme understatement.

  For the remainder of our visit to Grace that day, the thought of moving Jja Ja Grace into our home ran around and around in my mind as the girls helped me cook her lunch and wash some clothes for her. When we finished, we headed home so I could think and pray about what to do next.

  I rolled around in my bed, unable to sleep that night. “God, are you truly asking me to do this?” I kept asking Him.

  And God said, “I think you know the answer. You don’t actually wonder if I am asking you to do this. You are just afraid of the inconvenience it may cause you to have a blind old woman in your care.” He was right; this was true. Somehow, adopting a grandmother seemed much more daunting than adopting a child.

  But, for me, the whole situation could be reduced to one question: Did I believe that Jesus was serious? Did I believe what He said was true? The answer was yes. I believe He was serious when He said to love my neighbor as myself, and I believe He meant this even when my neighbor was not tiny and cute and cuddly. I believe when He said to love my neighbor as myself, He really meant to care for others as I would care for my family or myself, and I would never let my family or myself live in such conditions.

  As I thought of all the different life changes that would need to take place for us to accommodate Jja Ja Grace, I was completely overwhelmed. But the only reasons I could think of not to move her in with us were completely selfish. We had enough space; we had enough food; we had enough love. We had enough.

  I kept going back to Matthew 25, where Jesus said,

  When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people from one another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

  Then the King will say to those on his right, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.”

  Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?”

  The King will reply, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for the one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”

  Then he will say to those on his left, “
Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.”

  They also will answer, “Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?”

  He will reply, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for me.”

  Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.

  I read this passage again and again. Sometimes I can hear Jesus whispering, “I’m sick. Will you look after me? Will you invite me in?”

  Yes.

  The next morning, I sat the girls down for a family meeting. I knew before I even began talking that they would be willing, excited even, to have Jja Ja Grace come to live with us. They loved this joyful woman and they are so much better than I am at giving without holding anything back. The vote was unanimous, they jumped up and down and squealed and told me, “Thank you for having such a good idea!”

  I laughed to myself and thought: This was so not my idea.

  That afternoon, we went back to Masese for our women’s meeting. When we finished, the girls and I walked to Jja Ja Grace’s house to invite her to move into our home. Tears welled in her eyes and a grin crossed her face. “God has given me a family!” she cried. “All these years with no one, and He has given me a new family!”

  What happened next shocked me, though; she said no! I looked up and wondered: All that thinking and processing and not sleeping I have done, and she said no? She said she was too old to start a new life and would be too much of a burden on us. She said that Jesus would be the one to take care of her and we could just continue to do whatever we could at her house. The girls begged and pleaded, but she had made up her mind. I will not pretend that my selfish human heart didn’t feel some relief.