Buzz… Buzz… Buzz. It’s dark and quiet… My thumb quickly runs across the screen of my iPhone to silence my phone alarm so I don’t wake anyone else up. My feet quietly make their way to the floor. Walking to the mirror to fix the mess of my hair… I stared as I twisted strands around to make it look somewhat presentable. “You are no longer a girl, but a woman. A mother.” I thought as I looked at the mirror. I am a mother, not to a family of my own but a group of thirty teenage girls. This month the director and owner of the Jaz house left to visit a friend in Taiwan and I agreed to leave my team and step in to help run the place.
It’s was 4:45am and I was making coffee. I heard footsteps and looked up to see the youngest of the Jaz girls standing in the kitchen. I opened my arms and we hugged a tired hug. This is why I do this, because I really love them. The day was going to start in fifteen minutes for the rest of them.
Knock… Knock… Knock. Flip on lights… “Good morning girls today is going to be a good day. Time to get ready for school.” One room down 8 more to go. This is our routine. Uniforms fly around, girls in and out of the laundry room, wet hair, a breakfast of fish and rice, the driver shows up, five girls taking a selfie, millions of conversations in Tagalog, one girl sick in bed with her uniform on. My focus split in ten directions but all equally attended to.
” Everyone to the bus or we are leaving you!” “Let’s go. Let’s go. Lets go.” The basketball girls on one schedule, the elementary girls going on a field trip, everyone needing a particular focus of attention.
I climb into the back of the bus with the girls and the bus driver takes me back to Kids International Ministry. This is the start of Devon’s day. I eat breakfast, put on my make up, and wait for my teammates to wake up. Then we have Bible study and I head to the streets to do ministry till the driver picks me and the Jaz girls back up after their schooling.
“Tita Devon we don’t have laundry soap. We need laundry soap. “Tita Devon I need shampoo.” “Tita Devon I don’t have a pencil.” ” Tita Devon can you help me download a video for school?” “Tita Devon I need new slippers.” Three girls on the piano, four girls watching youtube, one girl ignoring me, and the youngest walking around with an umbrella and a blanket wrapped around her neck like a cape.
“God why do you make me taste a family, taste being a mom, then leave me to have to say goodbye and leave my heart behind again?” I’m not going to lie, I’m tired. It’s been a long few weeks and I am just weary of leaving my heart all over the place. I have been praying “God give me more love to give.” Because my love is starting to hurt. I have always wanted to be a mom. Perhaps I have never expressed it well. It seems like a forbidden topic as a single woman. But the reality is, that is what I pray for almost everyday since I have been on the race. Because, kissing street babies, waking up teenagers, and praying with the girls on the way to school just makes me have to face myself and my desires. To be a mom is all I’ve ever wanted. I am an artist, but I don’t really want to be an artist. I play music, but that isn’t it for me. This is me being real. One day, God is going to give me my family. It may be way different than I expect but it will come.
