What makes your heart come alive? What are the things in this world that make you truly angry? What are the things that make you sad? About a week ago, Hosanna asked me these questions on one of our long, bumpy van rides home from ministry.
“If you answer those questions, than you’ll know what you’re passionate about. And if you know what you’re passionate about, you’ll have direction. And if you have direction, you’ll have a vision!” she told me.
All this right after a moment on the Race that brought out more passion and emotion and joy in me than I have experienced thus far in ministry. A few of my teammates and I visited an "invalid orphanage" here in Ukraine last Wednesday – basically another way of describing a home for kids with special needs, most of which are very severe. I’ve only had one other opportunity like this on the Race so far, when my team visited a special needs orphanage in Guatemala. Prior to last summer when I worked at Kiwanis Camp (a camp for children and adults with all types of disabilities), I never would have envisioned myself being drawn to these kids. Rather, I would have run the opposite direction. I used to marvel at anyone who wanted to work as a special needs teacher. And yet where I stand now, I am drawn to them with a magnetic pull to the point that I am sometimes astonished at myself…
We were greeted by a 17-year-old girl at the orphanage when our van pulled in. Her face glowed at the sight of us and we were good friends in a matter of seconds, walking with our arms around each other across the playground. It took no words, no time, no Facebook friend request, no coffee date – simply a smile and a touch, and that was all. Why can’t every new friendship be so simple? 🙂 Inside, we played a piano duet for a while after meeting a few other children, her discordant playing keeping beat with my harmony. Whatever the music may have sounded like, she played with the stance and passion of a concert pianist. Later that day, I asked her through a translator, what is her favorite thing to do? Her words were difficult to translate, but finally she was able to communicate that her favorite thing is when “believers from the church come and bring her gifts and play with her”.
Shortly after entering the orphanage, we went into a room where about 20 girls were sitting in a half circle on low benches. For a moment my teammates and I stood there awkwardly, waiting for a signal from the staff or from Bruce that we were allowed to move around the room. When they told us that we could shake the girls’ hands, I was SO excited to close the gap… those kids are starved for affection and it took nothing to break the ice. I think they could immediately sense my desire to be with them and love on them. In return, they were so ready to accept and to love me and my teammates. It was humbling to be so warmly received and embraced – all I wanted was to hold them all and touch them and let them hug me and tackle me and sit in my lap. We only got to stay a few minutes because our presence was over-stimulating for some of them, and having to leave made my heart sad.
Later the staff took us to a room with the most disabled kids who can't even get out of bed and never leave the building. Bruce told us we could walk around the room and pray for the kids and touch them gently… I never make it past the first bed. The little boy lying there was blind and as soon as I took his hand, he would not let go. He held on super tight and then I let him feel my arm and face with his other hand. He was tiny, seemed malnourished, and had the scrawniest arms. I moved my hand with his back and forth and he began to laugh, his big blue eyes staring toward me without seeing. Then I took his other hand and just played with him by moving his hands and being completely goofy, pretty much oblivious to everything around me because his giggle was so enchanting. He, too, was starved for attention and love. It didn't even matter that all we were doing was moving our hands around in the air – to him, it may as well have been the most amazing ride at Disneyland because he was so happy. It broke and burst my heart all at once. I sat there with him for the 20 minutes that we were all in the room, wishing I could stay much longer… pulling my fingers out of his tight grip was the hardest moment of the day, maybe the week.
I wish I could have stayed there forever. I wanted to beg to come back every day that we are in Ukraine, but knew it was an impossibility. I am still at a loss to understand myself or what it is that made me love those kids so much, other than the love of Christ that He has put in my heart for them. But I left there feeling like I suddenly knew what I want to do with my life. I want to love the unseen, the unvalued, the unloved. It struck me as we drove away, I just found them. The least of these. The ones that capture Jesus’ heart and affection because they are weak and alone and overlooked, and yet they are so innocent and pure and beautiful. And all I wanted was to be with them, close enough that I could see past the mars and blemishes that repulse the world, and capture the rhythm of their heartbeat. I thought about Mother Teresa’s words, “Every human being is a gift.” I had most certainly been the one to receive a gift that day. Those moments with the kids were the most freeing and wonderful thing in the world… their LOVE, with no conditions, no introduction, no conversation necessary. How much the rest of us could learn from them!
