My son got back from Mexico safe and sound. He went along with our church youth group to do some work and play with kids at an orphanage. I've been waiting to blog about it because he's been pretty quiet about his trip. When we picked him up he had bruises all over, his pants were ripped and dirty, his hands had blisters and when I washed his clothes I found a few shirts full of paint. At first I was a little disappointed that he wasn't bursting with exciting adventures and new experiences. I wanted him to tell me stories about the kids at the orphanage and the new friends he made. I wanted to hear about the village they stayed in, the people he came across and how this experience changed his life!

The night he came home, I sat in his room with him before he went to bed. His knees were all scraped up and he was so tired. We said a prayer together and he smiled and fell asleep. As I looked at him lying in bed, completely exhausted and sore, I realized that his actions spoke louder than any words he could have said. He didn't need to tell me that he shoveled rock and dirt because his calloused hands told me that. He didn't need to tell me he helped paint because it was still on his arms and legs. He didn't need to tell me that he played with some of the Mexican kids because I saw the smile on his face when I looked at the pictures.

It reminds me of Jesus. Sometimes I want him to just tell me something exciting from a burning bush or change my life by talking to me through a donkey and I get frustrated when I don't hear from him in some amazing way. But my son's example gives me a fresh perspective. Jesus doesn't need to tell me that he would do anything for me because I can see the torn skin on his back after he was whipped with shards of glass and metal and he doesn't need to tell me that he will move mountains for me, because I can see him, beaten and exhausted, dragging his cross up a steep hill. And he doesn't need to tell me how special I am because I can see the nails being driven through his hands. I realize that, like my son, his actions speak louder than his words.