Follow the Leader

After the lesson had been taught, the skit had been performed, the coloring sheets passed out, and the little craft bracelets tied to all their little hands, you would have thought that the program was over. We could have packed up the cars and gone home, but instead we looked into over four hundred little pairs of children's eyes that didn't want us to leave, and so we loved them in their love language: play. 

Soccer balls. Frisbees. Jump ropes. Bubbles. Kites. The open field turned into a full-blown circus. Some little groups huddled together in different parts of the field - a little pod over here chasing bubbles and a little pod over there tossing a ball in a small circle. Then there were other kids who were just all over the place, weaving in and out of the huddles because of a wildly thrown frisbee or because they are trying to keep a kite up in the air.  

I particularly loved watching one team member run around the field flying the superman kite he brought on an absolutely windless day. Behind him was a trail of little skinny black legs running full force with their eyes towards the sky and their mouths gaping open in amazement and joy. When he got tired, he passed the kite onto one of his followers, which turned into at least a 20-minute long kite relay around the outskirts of the circus field. It was pure joy. 

Me, I didn't have a ball or a balloon or bubbles, so I just made up a simple game of follow the leader on the spot. I marched. I hopped. I crawled. I took long, big strides followed by teeny, tiny little baby steps. I spread my wings out and soared to the right and left like a bird, and then flapped my arms like a wild chicken. With every new move, my line of followers laughed louder and grew longer. 

And then, when I had sweated through my entire shirt and couldn't breathe any longer, I stopped the game, but I didn't lose my following. 

They followed me to the car and watched me drink my water bottle. They followed me to the empty spot of grass where I wanted to get a fresh breath of air and plopped down right beside me, touching me and surrounding me in a humid cloud of stink and delight. I couldn't get away! Nor did I really want to. For the remainder of the play time, I had a shadow of children who wanted to follow me and hold my hand. At one point, I think I had seven children on each side, holding my hands all the way up to my elbows, tripping over each other and laughing even harder. 

Oh the faith of a child. They don't know me. They don't even really speak my language. But when I said, "follow me," they did. They followed me wherever I went, imitating exactly as I did, not needing to understand where we were going or what we were doing or what the objective of the game even was. And they wanted to hold my hand all the way. And then they wouldn't let go. 

I want to follow Jesus like that. I may not know where we are going, what we are doing, or what the point is, but I know who he is. He said, "Follow me," and so I want to follow him where he goes and imitate him exactly as he does, holding his hand all the way and refusing to ever let go. 

And maybe I want to follow him like that kite, too. Running full force with my eyes lifted heavenward and my mouth in open amazement at who he is. Running after him in hot pursuit and pure delight. Blown by the wind of the Spirit. Wherever he goes and whatever he does in heaven, may I follow it with my legs on the earth. "May your kingdom come, may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven."