every morning, we would wake up, and drive to an orphanage. i wanted to sleep on the way there, but the scenery, the people in daily life, and almost killing everyone on a motorcycle was too fascinating and too scary. i often found myself bargaining with myself. you need to see all this...you'll sleep tonight.
(20 second clip of driving. enjoy the music we were listening to.)
the make shift shops, the skinny animals eating whatever they could find, the trash everywhere. part of me wanted to get out and shop, but it was too dangerous and we had things to do.
in the van, english was being taught to the bodyguard. hot (insert pretend touching a hot stove) and cold. brrrr! cold sounds cold in any language.
and michael jackson played in the background. or sometimes 90's praise music. i found both surprisingly comforting... there was some common ground here, however strange it was.
(this is what it was like pulling in to see the kids)
when we got out of the car, we were surrounded by children instantly. a lot of the time, we just held with them for long spans. they knew if they got down, you'd get snatched up by someone else. nothing was their own. not their clothes or their food or their new friends.
i loved this little boy wearing flannel pajamas in 140 degree heat index. no complaining.
layne had these exact pajamas when he was younger. i caught myself seeing layne in him. but this child had no parents.
do not cry. they have already experienced enough sadness. so we just sweat together. and hugged. and played.
and they sang for us with their angel voices. i'm not sure if i've heard anything sweeter than orphans singing to Jesus and dancing. hallelujah....hallelujah.
i'm them too. poor and hungry and needy for Jesus. singing for mercy.
they waited patiently to hear some simple lessons in the afternoons. they heard:
jesus loves the little children.
jesus will never leave.
jesus doesn't care if you're rich or poor.
jesus wants to be your friend.
we brought toys, markers, bubbles, balls.
we brought fun and carefree and childhood.
what a treasure to be the hands of generous co-workers, small groups, and friends who gave items for the kids before we left.
their faces... you should have seen their sweet faces.
we taught them baseball. it was a foreign concept. literally. they tried to kick the baseball a lot, but it was fun and we were all laughing. you don't need to know the language to laugh together.
i can still hear them laughing. and i want to go back. i need to see this over and over again.
i'm going to post more this week. it's picture overload but i want you to just catch a glimpse of what i saw. maybe if you see a little bit of what i experienced, you'll want to go too. or you'll want to let your money go for you. it's too much to see and hear and then do nothing.