Due to confidentiality, I will not be posting pictures of the children's faces. The following are pictures of their tiny hands and feet. Precious in God's sight are little children.
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"You may choose to look the other way, but you can never again say that you did not know."
-William Wilberforce |
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Goodbye is such a final word. The day to walk away from their cribs has arrived. Even after three times volunteering with at-risk and abandoned babies, it never gets any easier. You linger with them in your arms, knowing you will never hold or see them again. Many people tell me, "It would break my heart. I couldn't handle it." They are right about having a broken heart. It is a hurt that never goes away. The sadness fades as life back home resumes, but it is always nearby, rising to the surface when I hear a baby cry that sounds like one of my babies at the hospital or orphanage. I often compare the ages of my kids to the children I pass on the street or in stores. Stefan and Adrien would be 8 1/2 years-old now. Daria would be six-years-old. Ioana and Andreaa would be almost 12. I pray they found homes where kindness and stability are present. I pray they have a warm bed to be tucked into, and a place at someone's supper table. As for not being able to handle it, I would like to humbly encourage whoever is reading this: you can do it with God's help. You can give your heart to the children. You can walk away when the time comes. You can stay behind when a child moves on. You can survive a broken heart. It will hurt like crazy, but you will be okay. Abandoned, abused, and at-risk children are everywhere, not just in Romania. They need you. They need the special abilities, personality, resources, and love only you can provide. I fully understand not everyone feels called to adopt, work with babies in Romania, be a mentor for at-risk youth, or foster kids in the United States. From my experience, I encourage others to be open to the possibility. A calling is often not written across the sky in flaming letters of fire. Instead, it is a child in front of us, or an extra bed or dining room chair in our house that God would fill if we would open our hearts and let Him work. As a person who let fear rule her life for far too long, learn from my mistakes. Please don't let fear hold you back from entering the suffering of children. Don't run from the pain of others. That is precisely what satan wants. The deceiver wants us to be indifferent, create barriers, be suspicious, and jealously guard our sense of self-preservation (my time, my money, my house, my resources, my emotions). A fear of emotional pain is the reason I most often heard from people choosing to not be foster parents when I was a social worker, and it is the main reason I am given when people tell me they could not work with abandoned babies. Intense emotional pain will be part of the process; I guarantee it 100%. But you can do it because God is ready and willing to help. I am not brave. I am not emotionally stronger than the average person. I battle fear, doubt, and selfishness. I get angry and my prayers are full of questions. I cry when I leave the children. It is only by God's grace that any of this is possible. When I stand beside a crib, holding a child's hand for the last time, Jesus is there, too. I cannot see Him with my eyes, but I know He is present. In the sadness, my Savior is there, standing alongside, calming a weary and hurting heart, gathering what has been shattered, and providing strength to continue the journey. I am a mixed up sinner saved by the precious sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Nothing good have I done. It is all Him.
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| -House in a gypsy village- Many of the children come from this village and similar places in the surrounding areas. "You will love more passionately, hurt more deeply, grieve more bitterly, and celebrate more joyfully throughout the process of caring for vulnerable children than you ever thought imaginable. We must be willing to walk down this path, for their sake. As we do, our embracing of their brokenness paints a vivid picture of how Jesus embraced ours." -Arrow |
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A Prayer for the World's Children
Ina Hughs
We pray for children who sneak popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never "counted potatoes,"
who are born in places where we wouldn't be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an X-rated world.
We pray for children who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.
And we pray for those who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anyone's dresser,
whose monsters are real.
We pray for children who spend all their allowances before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their
food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out
the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make
us cry.
And we pray for those whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anyone,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.
We pray for the children who want to be carried and for those who must, for those who never give up and for those who don't get a second chance, for those we smother, and for those who will grab the hand of anyone kind enough to offer it. In Jesus' name, amen |
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| My final shift at the hospital was peaceful. I rocked a baby girl (around 18-months-old) and sang her several hymns, ending with 'You Are My Sunshine'. My arms are now empty, but my heart is full. |
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