One of the huge draws and reasons for me joining the World Race was my prior work at Calo. Through working with kids with complex trauma and the majority coming from international adoption, it was my heart to better understand their initial experiences and backgrounds. What would their lives have looked like had they not been adopted and brought to the US?
Not to harp on orphanages, they provide a number of the needs for children without a formal home or parents. However, God didn’t design children to live in that type of community. The ratio of caregivers to children is too imbalanced and kids need the full attention, love, and consistency from committed parents in a loving home. I’m a huge proponent for kids living in a foster home (if they are not safely able to live with bio-parents) with committed foster parents who can supply the attention, love, boundaries, and structure that just cannot exist inside a likely underfunded and overcrowded orphanage.
As I travel from country to country I naturally gravitate to interacting and connecting with the children. I’ve read enough books, attended enough conferences, listened to enough podcasts about neurobiology, the brain, trauma, and childhood development that I want to give every child I encounter a few synapse connections and experiences telling them they are worthwhile, loved, and enough. Because who knows the past they’ve endured and who knows their current home life. As I interact with these precious children, I’m searching the faces and eyes for my former students at Calo. I feel like I get the opportunity to love on the younger versions of the teenagers that live thousands of miles away back in the US.
There’s a deep sorrow and ache in my heart for the orphanages that exist in each country we visit. I have a massive desire to visit them and understand the conditions, their operations and approach, to pray over them, yet part of me wants to avoid the inevitable heartbreak that would accompany a visit. There hasn’t been any opportunities to visit one, which I’m both heartbroken and grateful for.
During our last week in Cambodia I was biking from a thriftstore outside of town to a local coffeeshop, Biolab, for a meeting. The weather was cool and clear and I had plenty of extra time before I needed to arrive. At a slow leisurely pace I was taking in the scenery of the less touristy parts of Siem Reap. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a small, nondescript sign that said Snadai Khmer Orphanage. My heart stopped. What!? An orphanage right here? Do I stop? Is that allowed? Am I treating this place like a tourist attraction? I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
I biked down a long driveway with brick walls on either side that led to an iron gate standing wide open. Just past the gate lay a large, open concrete parking lot with two large buildings on the right and an overgrown field of bushes, plants and flowers at the back. Six or seven Khmer kids roughly between the ages of 4-12 were playing in the overgrown field and their laughter and playful voices carried across the lot. At the iron gate I paused again. Is it okay that I enter here? I knew my intentions were pure and figured what’s the worst that could happen, they ask me to leave? Worth it. When the kids noticed me at the gate, they immediately smiled and started waving at me— their play coming to an immediate pause.
They begin walking towards me continuing to wave. I biked in to a small raised grassy circle in the middle of the lot. They came up to me all smiles. I said my greeting of hello in Khmer, “Sou-sdai! Soks-abei-thay?” And they responded in kind. What now? That was the extent of my Khmer. I begin speaking in English and asked if they knew any. Confused looks and smiles. Ah! What do I do now? I continued to ramble in English, expressing my desire to communicate with them. I wanted to gush over them. Hug them, love them, pray for them. But I recognize that would be extremely overwhelming and just not helpful. I prayed for them quietly as I looked around and took in all their faces full with smiles. I then biked over to the overgrown field and picked a few purple petunia looking flowers. One of the girls followed and picked some as well and built a tower by stacking them on top of each other. My go-to connection point generally ends up being nature or specifically flowers! : )
Just after I picked some of the flowers, a man from one of the buildings emerged and said something in Khmer to them. He must have been calling them inside (maybe because a random white girl on a bike was on the property) because they slowly got up and began to walk across the lot and into the buildings. They continued to smile and waved good-bye. The younger girl who had made the tower of flowers continued to wave and wave until I biked back out of the iron gate.
As I biked back down the long driveway tears welled in my eyes. Overstimulated with feelings. Why was such a small, short experience like that so overwhelming?! I just have such a burning desire for wholeness and wellness for them. I have seen the long-lasting effects an orphanage or lack of meeting crucial emotional needs can have on children. I don’t want them to lack any need for love, attention, stability. I want them to know their worth. I want them to feel safe. I want them to know authentic, unconditional love. To live in a home with committed parents who love them as their own. To develop healthy brains and regulatory systems. To be able to grieve the loss of their parents. To feel respected, known, and understood. To ultimately find the hope, grace, and redemption found in Christ.
This quick 5-minute experience has had a profound impact on me. No deep connections or realizations were made, yet it continues to stick with me. I play the scene over and over in my mind and it brings up large emotions. I don’t know why. There isn’t much I can do for these kids. Googling the orphanage brought up no relevant results. But I pray for them! I can share my heart and this experience with you all.
