tugging at my heartstrings

I had a good heart to heart with one of my teammates tonight. We laughed about some funny happenings in our lives and caught up on jobs, friends, and other things but then we quickly moved to our favorite subject: India. My friend and I both have huge hearts for India after our trip last summer. We could talk about it together for hours.

It seems lately that God just keeps tugging at my heartstrings anytime I hear or think about India and missions.

Like a couple of Sunday nights ago when a young woman at church was comissioned.

Or every time I think about the fact that a year ago I was preparing for what was the biggest and best adventure of my life.

Last night, I dreamed that I was back in India at one of the orphanages. And I got to see my baby, my Vishal.

Let me tell you a story about Vishal. I met little Vishal, with all of his four year old cuteness, on our first day at the orphanage. Even though I work a lot with older children with my major and such I have always loved 3-4 year olds. I met Vishal and knew that there was something special about him. He would let just about anyone pick him up and hold him and he would just sit there and stay. I quickly made it my goal to get little Vishal to open up.

I sang songs with him sitting in my lap. One day I threw a small soft ball back and forth with him for hours. I let him listen to songs on my ipod. I placed him on my hip and danced around outside. One night I held him on my hip and sang songs to him softly as he fell asleep.

Every time our Jeep pulled into the orphanage I found Vishal and we started all over again. His smile made my day.

Our last night in this city arrived gloomily. We spent the entire day at the orphanage enjoying our last time of playing with the kids. As the hours went by we laughed and giggled. In the last hour that we were there I took Vishal and sat with him on my lap. Some of the older boys were trying to hold back tears as we talked with them. I started singing some songs and to my delight Vishal joined in. He held nothing back and was not afraid to sing loud! By this point in the trip he was opening up to me speaking to me in his jibberish HIndi and giggling with me. His singing was the icing on the cake.

As I held Vishal for the last time I tried to keep the tears from coming as I prayed to God that He would take care of my little Vishal. I also prayed that God would remind me that He has a wonderful plan for Vishal’s life.

These days, I just long to hold my little Vishal again. I want to tell him that Jesus Loves him and that I love him too. I want to dance and sing and be silly all over again.

And as I think about Vishal, even with some tears, I thank God that He gave me the opportunity to spend even that short time with Vishal. I thank Him that He let me see love through the eyes of such a precious child. And I thank Him that He still uses Vishal to tug at my heartstrings.

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