My Gremlin: Carol

It is interesting to think of how our thought process works. And the fact that I am thinking about thinking makes me have a headache just thinking about it. So I don't anymore. But it is nice when the process passes by little memories of our lives and then pulls in and parks. Some days my thoughts randomly hit some of the kids we met in Kenya last summer. And when I say kids, there are a few that are brought to the front of my sight. Such as my crazy, gremlin Carol.
Carol is not an orphan, but her family sends her to the orphanage in Gathiga for schooling. I was glad she had a family, at least one parent, but selfishly I wanted her to remain there 24/7 so I could have seen her all the time- but she would leave after lunch. I must be a horrible person to wish that, but I did, and if you met her you would want to be with her all the time as well. Carol didn't really talk much. Instead...she would growl or hiss or laugh, or anything that sounded like a wild animal. She wasn't a touchy-feely type of kid- so we got along great. She would let me hold her but she wasn't big on hugs or showing affection, which I was okay with. Most of our dialogue was me giving her attitude, "Girrrrrrl what you say?" and she would mimic me back in a foreign tongue that would make me laugh hysterically. I am pretty sure that if I was a small black child.. I would be Carol.
As my days there progressed I noticed Carol was mostly a loner. She kind of followed people around with her little knitted hat, observing them, taking in the hyper active kids around her and the strange white people who smiled too much.
Amanda and I would remark what cool style she had, and pretended that the layers or skirts/shirts/sweaters were because of style and not because she was cold. When I held her hand, it chilled my own hand and went straight to my heart. I began referring to Carol as my gremlin and would search for her every morning. She began warming up to me and I eventually would get a smile when she saw me.
One particular morning sticks out to me, it was the day before we left Gathiga, and Carol had worn her little knitted cap once again. Some of the kids began taking it from her and running away. It was a chilly morning so I would playfully chase the kids and retrieve it to her. Carol would never chase them because they were bigger. She knew she couldn't catch them. She also knew I would get it for her. and I did, every time.
But then the next time it happened, I didn't move. I wanted to see what she would do, how she would react. She needed to fend for herself, was my thought process.
She watched the kids run off with her hat without emotion on her face... for awhile.

And then I heard the most heartbreaking sound. I was shocked to hear Carol let out a huge, pitiful wail of tears. A little boy next to me ran to get the hat back to me. And in 2.5 seconds I had scooped her up and placed her cap back over her cold ears. The rest of the day Carol sweetly stayed on my lap until she had to leave. She eventually settled down and realized she was safe again. She should have realized it at least, because no one was going to take her hat while she was on my watch.

I bet God would love to bring my hat back when people steal it from me. He would love to rescue me from every painful and hurtful deed done against me. I bet his fingers twitch when I am persecuted in the smallest way.
But a lot of times He does not move.
He waits to see the footstep I will take.
Will I chase my enemy and curse them... or will I patiently love them?

Carol showed me something about God.
He hears our cries.
As I ran to her in a heartbeat, God too will run to me when I cry out to Him.
What a lovely picture of Jesus. He lets us experience our lives by testing our faith because it grows us wiser, yet when we get lost along the way He answers our tears with arms tightly wrapped around us- protecting us from the evil the world and spiritual realm possesses.

I'm glad our memories fire glimpses of our past. What I know now is so much more than what I knew then. Last summer Carol was just a little girl I adored, and today she is a little girl that reflects how Jesus works.