April 7 - Ashlyn

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise Him all creatures here below; praise Him all of ye Heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."The joyful strains of this song could be heard throughout the little orphanage chapel as Sunday morning's service came to a close. Filled with gratitude, I reflected on the sweet time of worship that we had had with these local believers.Upon arrival at the orphanage that morning we were unsure of what we would be doing, but were excited to be with these people and ready to serve. We found out that we would be attending the orphanage church service, singing a couple songs for them, and be served lunch.Walking into the chapel, we were greeted by the eager faces of the children who find refuge within the gates of this place. Whether children whose parents have died, or are just too poor to continue providing for their children; these children were eager for love and gathered to talk to us.During the service I sat with a row of the girls. In contrast to the orphanage we had been at the week before where the kids took a long time to warm up and get close to you; these girls were immediately sitting on my lap. They linked hands with mine and held on tightly for the entire service.Worship.That word seems to pretty well describe the entire service. Taking turns, different age groups of kids stood up and sang songs of praise to Jesus in Burmese. Their faces were glowing and the depth of the faith that they displayed in singing songs that told of their dependence on Jesus, no matter what, touched my heart. These kids know what hardship and poverty looks like, it is their reality. And yet, they are full of joy. Full of praise. When it came time for offering, again my heart was touched. Ones who literally have nothing, gave so generously, so eagerly, so enthusiastically. It seems as if God surely took delight in seeing them living out the Scripture about a "cheerful giver." Clasping kyat tightly in their overly thin fingers, the children waited with anticipation for the bag to make it to them, so they could put in their gift. Not once, but twice, they repeated the passing of the offering bag. After praising the Lord in song, giving, and prayer; a message was preached. I couldn't understand the words verbally spoken since my three or four Burmese words haven't exactly made me fluent yet, but looking around the room, I saw the dedication of these believers. The room was hot with little air flow, but these Christians were hungry to learn. Besides, the two little girls that fell asleep in my lap melted my heart even more.After the preaching, the younger children were dismissed and they served the Lord's Supper. There is something so beautiful about humbling yourself in remembrance of the Lord's sacrifice alongside of fellow believers of another tongue, another culture, but the same glorious Lord.Honoring us by making "spaghetti" for lunch and serving us, the generous hearts of these people once again shone forth.Sadly, all too soon it was time to leave. The little girls that I sat with during the service came running out with a rose for me and a bracelet that they had woven of white jasmine. Their kind gifts blessed me and made it that much harder to leave. They clung to me for every last moment until we had to load into the bus. As we pulled away, they ran after the bus waving and calling out "Min ko nga chit te, Min ko nag chit te" (I love you, I love you)."Praise God from whom all blessings flow" echoed from my heart as we pulled away, and a sense of overwhelming gratitude flooded my soul. Humbled by their faith, encouraged by their worship, and built up by their sacrifice; this day will long remain as a treasured memory in my heart.Ashlyn