By Tiffany Burgess
Just a stone's throw south of WoodsEdge lies a quiet neighborhood of mobile homes known as Five Oaks. Last month, I had the great privilege of serving alongside Lighthouse Community Outreach at their annual Giving Tree party.
Pulling up to the community park, I veered my car off the narrow street so as to not block traffic and was genuinely surprised to see so many young children and families already eagerly congregating in the area. Though the weather was having a short summertime flashback and already threatening to bring forth a bead of sweat to my brow as I crossed the street, the Christmas spirit was in no short supply that December afternoon.
Jubilant music about snowfall and cold wintry nights drowned out the gentle rustling of leaves, adorned in their most brilliant fall colors. Children in festive attire chased each other from station to station where volunteers assisted them with making their own ornaments, decorating a gingerbread house, and playing "Pin the Baby Jesus in the Manger."
Ladies from Lighthouse put down a few tarps over a grassy area and laid out some donated clothing for mothers and fathers to sort through, picking out pieces their children could use and maybe even something for themselves.
Squeals of delight echoed from the back of the park where the face-painting crew was busy making masterpieces of art on the canvas of the little children's faces. Moms called to their little ones chasing wildly after each other to come eat a taco and refuel for the next round of tag.
Little eyes grew wide with excitement at the sight of the five or six donated bicycles on display, complete with training wheels and helmets, that would be given away during the concluding raffle.
About an hour into the festivities, an announcement came over the speaker for anyone involved in "the play" to come to the stage area and get into costume. Shortly after, handfuls of little boys wearing Biblical-style robes portraying the likes of Joseph, the three Wise Men, and some shepherds began appearing left and right, their faces beaming at their parents and guardians for how cool they must have looked in their new fashion.
But their elation was no match against the look of sheer joy on the precious little girls' faces that came out wearing all white, with halos teetering above headbands and angelic wings strapped over their shoulders. These little girls held a captive audience even before the show started. It was the sweetest moment to watch a little angel girl blush in innocent embarrassment when she was told how beautiful she was.
I hope she remembers that moment forever.
Not as a memory that tells her she is only worth her outward beauty, which we all know from Proverbs 31 is fleeting. But that she never grows apathetic to the reality that she is forever beautiful and precious in the eyes of her Heavenly Father. That on that day in the community park of her trailer park, she caught a glimpse of Jesus. That she can point back to these moments in her childhood, moments that others would have marginalized her for her humble beginnings but where the hand of God was working through His Church all along.
Perhaps this sounds a bit autobiographical, but that's because it is. You see, I was that angel, once upon a time.
In the early 90s, my mom was a deaf, single mother of two young girls, and we lived in a trailer park in Northwest Louisiana, not unlike the Five Oaks community. It is certainly a sign of the times, but back then, local churches often had a van service that would go around nearby neighborhoods, pick up kids for Sunday School, and drop them back off afterwards. Given my mom's communication difficulties (she only reads lips and doesn't know sign language), she didn't attend church herself but would let us go to the nearby Baptist church via the van.
Yes, you read that correctly. My well-meaning mom would let ("encourage" is more like it) her kids get in the sketchy van.
Again… times have changed. A lot.
I was only about 3 years old. My sister was 6.
Today? CPS would surely intervene. To send children off with strangers in a van would be unthinkable.
But praise God for the 1990s and the church van service because I met Jesus back then, and He has been calling to me ever since.
Back to the angels. During that time of my life, I, too, got to participate in a Christmas play, cast in the role of an angel and feeling as radiant as ever in my pretty white dress and feathery wings.
I can confidently say that at the oh-so-mature age of 3 or 4 years old, I did not fully grasp the concept of the God of the universe becoming flesh as a tiny baby and the significance of the angelic proclamation I delivered in my drastically simplified lines, but it didn't matter how much I understood. I only needed to know that His Church was a place I felt loved and special, a place I wanted to be.
In the 90s, the Church brought us to them. They picked us up in sketchy vans. They made us feel loved and welcome. Seeds were planted that the Lord has been cultivating for over 30 years now.
For obvious reasons, the Church today can't exactly go around picking up kids, but that's the beauty in how Lighthouse Community Outreach operates their ministry: they bring the Church to the kids (and the adults, I might add!). They not only host these fun parties in the physical heart of the community, they also have some Bible studies and camps… at the trailer park.
Make no mistake that Jesus uses face painting, tacos, and Christmas plays to plant seeds that will produce a most amazing harvest. I'm forever grateful for the people who ministered to me as a young child and reflected the light of Christ, and it's an honor to come full circle and watch what the Lord will do in Five Oaks.