Been pretty quiet over here on the blog lately. Oh, we have been doing stuff. Two of my kiddos have celebrated birthdays. We traveled to Thailand for a training conference and some much needed vacay time. That, of course, says nothing about art lessons, orphanage visits, English classes and homeschooling. So there has been stuff. I just haven’t felt like writing about it.
This past Fall I have had my heart broken like never before. I couldn’t really explain it, write about it, or even verbalize it. I just cried. Jesus was taking me on a journey into the depths of his heart and it hurt to weep with him, but that is what I felt called to do. Children who wait for families. Not enough families. Kids without access to medical care or education. Sweet loving children with no hope of a future. Students who have never heard. Not easy stuff and – for sure – not stuff that makes for award winning, light-hearted blog writing.
Through my tears, I have tried to come up with many plans to do something about it all. Maybe I should get my masters in social work in order to have more influence. Should we adopt again? Maybe if we were in the States, we could tell more people about the needs and more families would feel led to adopt or give towards adoptions? How could I advocate more? Is becoming a foster family the way to go?
I want to DO something.
I had the opportunity to hold two pretty special kiddos this week. After I teach, I go to the third floor of the orphanage where children who are bed ridden spend their days. They are not able to feed themselves, move from their wheelchairs or beds and many of them are unable to communicate. I go there to help feed these precious souls. I spoon feed them mush, wipe their faces, and rub backs. You wouldn’t believe the smiles that are my rewards.
This week, I walked in and immediately noticed that one of the teens was laboring for breath and was swollen. My heart knew. His time is coming to an end. I sat next to him, held his hand and brushed back the hair from his face as a prayer bubbled up from within me.
Last night we hung out with some special friends who have unexpectedly become foster parents. I took a turn holding the smallest of babies with perfect eye lashes and tiny fingers. I marveled at the perfection, wondered about her future, sighed with contentment knowing that she is in the best of care while she waits. A prayer bubbled up from within me.
This business of weeping – I think it is teaching me to pray.
When I am surrounded by situations that are out of my control and when the river of tears can not be tamed…praying is the only response.