The sun was boiling down on the tile as we made our way towards the infamous Lotus Temple. If you haven't heard of it, look up a picture online. The entire ceiling is shaped like a Lotus Blossom! Interesting fact, it is an actual working temple for...well, I'm not really sure what religion. The point of that little tidbit is that temples in this area of the world most often require that you remove your shoes before entering. Remember the opening line about the boiling hot sun on the tile? Yeah...not exactly easy on the bare feet. We hopped skipped and jumped our way up to the temple and back to where we'd stashed our shoes. The pain was very real as our feet felt like eggs in a frying pan; but, the temple was beautiful! It certainly makes for a great story anyway.
Yesterday, we talked with the girls about sharing our emotions and expressing ourselves through drawing. Our two new friends led the discussion as the girls shared memories of feeling sad or angry. But, my favorite portion of the day was riding in the van on the way to our friends house. I sat in the backseat, leaning over the hold the hand of two girls. They played with my rings, rubbed my hands, and simply leaned against my arms. It may not be as exciting as scalding feet; but it's still a great story!
So, while I was riding in the van with both of my hands entwined around two little girls; I realized something. There are so many different ways that we can tell stories! We can obviously tell them, we can write them (my strong point), or we can draw and paint them. As I look at the two stories from the past two days, I find two different stories. One about the Lotus Temple and one about two little girls in a car ride, told through the eyes of my hands and my feet. If you look at my feet, would you be able to see that story? You might see the dirt from the dust and the black flip flops I wore. You might see the red skin where it burned as it touched the hot tiles. But would you look beyond that to see the fun we had or the pictures we took as we laughed at our aching feet? The common thread? My hands and feet. If you look at my hands, would you be able to see the story there? You might see the rings the girls played with. You might feel the bones the girls massaged until they cracked. But would you look beyond that to see the faces of two little Indian girls? Of course, the greatest story of all was told with hands and feet: a story of love and redemption, grace and mercy, all through the scars of nail pierced hands and feet.
Yesterday, we talked with the girls about sharing our emotions and expressing ourselves through drawing. Our two new friends led the discussion as the girls shared memories of feeling sad or angry. But, my favorite portion of the day was riding in the van on the way to our friends house. I sat in the backseat, leaning over the hold the hand of two girls. They played with my rings, rubbed my hands, and simply leaned against my arms. It may not be as exciting as scalding feet; but it's still a great story!
So, while I was riding in the van with both of my hands entwined around two little girls; I realized something. There are so many different ways that we can tell stories! We can obviously tell them, we can write them (my strong point), or we can draw and paint them. As I look at the two stories from the past two days, I find two different stories. One about the Lotus Temple and one about two little girls in a car ride, told through the eyes of my hands and my feet. If you look at my feet, would you be able to see that story? You might see the dirt from the dust and the black flip flops I wore. You might see the red skin where it burned as it touched the hot tiles. But would you look beyond that to see the fun we had or the pictures we took as we laughed at our aching feet? The common thread? My hands and feet. If you look at my hands, would you be able to see the story there? You might see the rings the girls played with. You might feel the bones the girls massaged until they cracked. But would you look beyond that to see the faces of two little Indian girls? Of course, the greatest story of all was told with hands and feet: a story of love and redemption, grace and mercy, all through the scars of nail pierced hands and feet.
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