At least a large chunk of it.
I have hesitated to write because black and white words on a page seem so inadequate to capture the work God began and continues in me on this trip to China. But I want to share and give thanks for the work God has done.
In China, I had to pinch myself several times to realize I really was in China. Surreal was the word that I kept using over and over again.
I was really there, in that big, blue house!
As we toured that first afternoon we peeked into colorful rooms with Nannies all dressed in dark slacks, black cloth slippers, and red button up shirts holding up babies, waving their little hands at us. Room after room filled with little souls beckoned. As soon as we heard the house rules we were turned loose to play with the kids. The thing we had eagerly anticipated was finally granted.
As I entered that first room, however, it wasn't the playtime I had envisioned. I expected that the babies would be delighted to be held by strangers, (Yes, I am a mother to nine, but apparently reality was suspended in my mind regarding this) the nannies would be thrilled to have extra hands, and the playtime would be smooth and joyful.
While it was joyful, it was in a way that I did not expect. As I comforted a feverish, obviously sick, little one with a malformed head. And rocked another sick little guy, my mind raced.
Is it wrong to want to hold the cute ones?
God, you made each of these little ones, you see them and love them, yet they are not healed.
How can I ever communicate the depth of need that is here to those back home?
And the starkest reality of all. Maria's Big House Of Hope is still an orphanage.
Although I was tempted to despair, the joy previously mentioned found me in the laugh of the little man I tickled with Down Syndrome who had the happiest disposition despite his situation. It was in the soft snuggle and the sweet giggle of my Emee a six month old precious girl I bounced on my lap and lifted over my head to fly through the air. Joy and hope were found in the midst of great suffering and pain. Sorrow and suffering mingled together with joy and hope as gasping breaths and giggles of delight occurred side by side in the beautiful mess that was my experience at Maria's.
Being at Maria's Big House of Hope stirred my heart in all kinds of ways. It was the best, hardest, most painful and delightful place God allowed me to SEE.
I still don't know the full extent of what God is doing or why He sent me to the other side of the planet to love on these sweet, precious, amazing little souls who have survived and even thrived against all odds. This work is His and it's messy and mysterious, beautiful and formidable.
As I entered that first room, however, it wasn't the playtime I had envisioned. I expected that the babies would be delighted to be held by strangers, (Yes, I am a mother to nine, but apparently reality was suspended in my mind regarding this) the nannies would be thrilled to have extra hands, and the playtime would be smooth and joyful.
While it was joyful, it was in a way that I did not expect. As I comforted a feverish, obviously sick, little one with a malformed head. And rocked another sick little guy, my mind raced.
Is it wrong to want to hold the cute ones?
God, you made each of these little ones, you see them and love them, yet they are not healed.
How can I ever communicate the depth of need that is here to those back home?
And the starkest reality of all. Maria's Big House Of Hope is still an orphanage.
Although I was tempted to despair, the joy previously mentioned found me in the laugh of the little man I tickled with Down Syndrome who had the happiest disposition despite his situation. It was in the soft snuggle and the sweet giggle of my Emee a six month old precious girl I bounced on my lap and lifted over my head to fly through the air. Joy and hope were found in the midst of great suffering and pain. Sorrow and suffering mingled together with joy and hope as gasping breaths and giggles of delight occurred side by side in the beautiful mess that was my experience at Maria's.
Being at Maria's Big House of Hope stirred my heart in all kinds of ways. It was the best, hardest, most painful and delightful place God allowed me to SEE.
I still don't know the full extent of what God is doing or why He sent me to the other side of the planet to love on these sweet, precious, amazing little souls who have survived and even thrived against all odds. This work is His and it's messy and mysterious, beautiful and formidable.
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