confessions of a perfectionist.

Monday mornings he’s the dirtiest of all. 

He went home squeaky clean Friday afternoon, but after a weekend on the streets, Monday mornings come with cheeks flaking dirt, gentle scrubbing at little toes, and a bucket of soap suds.

Little Jack* is almost three years old, but you’d never know it.

He’s tiny, lacking muscle strength, and cognitive development, you’d never guess he’s any more than a year and a half.

Crossing Cambodia, a ministry here in Battambang that cares for street children, crossed paths with little Jack less than a year ago. His family had been living on the street side walks, but when the province ran a program to “beautify” the city, all street families were told to get out of sight in 24 hours. Any belongings they couldn’t carry were thrown into a heap on the street and burned. So Jack’s family relocated to the home they currently live in: the underside of an abandoned railroad station.

About six families have made their homes under the railway station, a dilapidated structure on the side of a dirt road and an old railroad track. The ground is covered in garbage, but the families have set up tables on top of the trash and draped tarps from the ceiling above them to create tents. Their cooking fire is on the outside edge of the structure; the bathroom, anywhere on the ground.

Jack (right) with his mom and little brother inside their tent. Jack turns three this April and the brother is one and a half. Both boys are the same size. Jack’s mom has learned to love her newest son in a way that she didn’t know how to when Jack was first born. Now, she is learning to love Jack, too. 

Jack was born a twin, but at nine months old, his twin died. When Crossing Cambodia found Jack at the railway station, they knew that if they didn’t intervene, Jack would die too.

When they found him he was malnourished and had a large abscess under his chin. Greg, the American missionary who founded Crossing Cambodia, took the boy to the doctors who said he would need to take antibiotics three times a day for seven days in a row. But Greg knew Jack’s mom couldn’t reliably administer the medicine. So they tried an IV. But Jack’s arms were so close to skin and bone, they couldn’t even find a vein to use. Finally, they chose a one-time injection of antibiotics to treat him.

Crossing Cambodia wasn’t planning to open their preschool for two more months, but they started the program early knowing that Jack desperately needed to receive daily care.

When Jack first started coming to the preschool, Greg said he was like zombie: no life in his eyes, no movements, no noises, no reactions—he would just sit on the floor frozen in a look of fear and stupor.

Jack’s been in the program for eight months now, and it’s hard to believe the little boy I just described is the same little boy I held in my arms yesterday morning.

Greg says that Jack today is not who he used to be. He is changing; he is being transformed. Jesus’ love is falling over him day by day, and the look of fear is falling away from his eyes.

Every morning we wake up at 5:30 a.m. and hop in the truck to pick the kids, including Jack, up for school. We pull up on the side of the road, next to the river, at the railroad station, and physically wake these kids up from sleep so they can get to the Crossing Cambodia center. Every day the kiddos get a bath, breakfast, lunch, and free schooling. Every day, we get to love them like Jesus does. What a blessing. What an honor.

Through little Jack, God has taught me beautiful lessons, about what it might be like to be a mother one day, and most of all, about the love our Heavenly Father has for us. This month I got to watch another one of my teammates fall in love with little Jack: Nic.

Jack is the runt of the kids. His body is weak. His arms are loose, his legs are floppy, he often just goes limp while you’re holding him. But he is growing, and he is gaining strength. When he puts his mind to it, he can stand on his own two feet. And when he really wants to, he can even run. But he fails a lot of times. He falls a lot of times.

Over and over again this month I watched this scene play out: Nic lowers Jack to the ground, and he starts getting fussy, immediately wanting to be held again, but Nic remains firm, he doesn’t give into to Jack’s cries, he knows that Jack needs to learn to walk, he knows Jack needs to grow. Nic loves Jack. Nic also knows Jack is weak, he knows he will fail, he knows he will fall— and that doesn’t change a thing, still, Nic loves Jack.

Jack takes a few steps, sturdy at first, and then shaky. He starts to give up, his legs look like they might collapse under him, but Nic reaches quickly for his little hands. He holds him up. He walks forward. Jack takes hold, depending on Nic for all of his balance, and he follows Nic forward, one little step at a time.

Nic never walks away angry. He always, always, always reaches his hands back down to Jack. And when Jack won’t take them, Nic sets him on his feet and becomes Jack’s strength. He takes his hands; he isn’t angered by Jack’s weaknesses. He is always more than willing to be Jack’s strength, and cheer him on with every forward step he took. He celebrates even the little victory steps, and had the immense patience of a father even when there were no steps at all.

A few weeks ago, while writing in my journal God played this familiar scene in my head, and I heard God say …

“Just as Jack screams and cries when he doesn’t want to walk, just as he falls over—I look at you with smiling eyes, I feel no shred of anger at you; I do not condemn you. I delight in your desire to pursue Me.

I pick you back up when you fall because you can’t do it on your own. Just as little Jack’s legs are too weak to walk somedays, his neck lacks the strength to hold his head up, his arms fail him—I AM the hand that sustains you. I AM the arms that hold you.

I do not despise your weaknesses, but desire to be your strength. You are already my child, and I do not count your mistakes against you. Do not count them against yourself.”

Jesus does not despise us when we fall over; but delights when we try to walk.

God does not cast us aside because of our weaknesses, but promises to uphold us with His hand.

I called this blog “confessions of a perfectionist,” because guess what? I’m a perfectionist and I’m confessing it. But through Jack, God has reminded my heart that I don’t have to be perfect. I fail. I fall. But God doesn’t walk away when I do; He reaches quickly for his my hands. He holds me up.

We walk forward.

Thanks, Jack. You may be tiny, but you’re a good teacher.

All my love,
Katy

*Jack’s real name has been replaced in order to follow Crossing Cambodia’s media policy to protect the children they serve.

P.S. Crossing Cambodia helps so many kids just like Jack. All just as precious. You can change one of these kid’s lives by becoming their sponsor. Check it out here!

P.P.S. Want to read more about Jack? Nic wrote a blog about him too! Check it out.  

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Nap time