The night before, I had bought the new Bethel Music Album (We Will Not Be Shaken – I HIGHLY recommend it!). My teammate had been playing one song on repeat, so I decided to go ahead and buy the full album.
Naturally, during the hour long bus journey the next morning, I decided to listen to my new album. Spot on. Loved it. I worshipped the whole way.
Pulling up to the orphanage, however, the knot returns in the pit of my stomach. The knot that shows up every time I have to work with kids, or with individuals with Special Needs. And here I was, about to volunteer for a special needs orphanage for the morning. This was NOT my groove.
I took a deep breath, said a prayer, and walked in the door. Within moments I felt my usual hesitancy melting away. In it’s place, the Lord placed his filter over my eyes, and I saw each of those precious children for who they were. HIS precious children.
We spent half of our time downstairs, playing with the older children, and the children who had more independence. It was a sweet time of laughs, tickles, hugs, games, and love. Then we were escorted up to the second floor, where the younger children and the children with more severe disabilities lived.
As I approached the doorway, my stomach dropped in shock and unbelief. I’ve walked into so many orphanages in my life, but walking into that room immediately made me sick, uncomfortable, and heart-broken. I stood frozen in the doorway for a few moments, trying to process what I was seeing and feeling. Finally, I took a deep breath and walked into the room, looking and praying for a child to connect with.
My eyes scanned the room, overwhelmed by how many children lay waiting to be fed, cuddled, loved, noticed. And then my eyes fell on her. In the far left corner of the room, there she lay in her orange pajamas. Curled up on her side, fast asleep on her short cot.
My. Heart. Stopped. My breath left my lungs.
Who was she? What was her name? What was her story? So many questions ran through my mind over the next few minutes. But honestly, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that she was in the room, I was in the room, and I was in love.
I’d love to tell you stories of how I held her for hours, loved on her, kissed her till she couldn’t stop smiling, and fed her till her belly could hold no more. But to be honest, sadly, that was not the case. She slept soundly most of the time that we were there, only waking when an orphanage worker woke her up to feed her. Then, for a few [blessed, glorious, cherished] moments right as we were being ushered out the door, I got to sit beside her, pray over her, then picked her up and carried her to her cot. I have never felt more complete than in those seconds that she lay in my arms. The moment I laid her frail body on the cot, she turned on her side and curled up, ready to go back to sleep. My heart melted all over again.
I walked out of the room and down the stairs – shattered. Not in the way that I had been heart broken over these children’s situations, but in a new way that I have never felt in my entire life. Not even once have I felt such heart-wrenching brokenness as I did that moment. Walking out of the front door of that orphanage felt like I was physically ripping open my chest and tearing out my heart and lungs. nothing about it felt right.
As I sat on the bus back to our district, I plugged my earbuds back in and proceeded to try and process and pray about what had just happened. What HAD just happened? I didn’t even understand it. I have never been one to connect with kids quickly, let alone at first sight. So how did I fall deeply in love with this little girl in an instant? And would my breath ever return to normal? Would my heart ever beat the same again?
As I sat on the bus, I listened to my Bethel Album again. A new track began to play, and I only half listened. I stared out the window and wished with all my being to jump off the bus and go running back to the orphanage.
Then the chorus played, and I lost my breath all over again.
“What a mystery
That you notice me.
And in a crowd of ten thousand
You don’t miss a thing”.
That’s when I began to understand just a glimpse of what had just happened. When I walked in that room, I could have easily been distracted by everything going on in the crowded room. But she captured my attention immediately and fully. Every move she made, I noticed. Even while I was playing with other children, I still noticed her.
The night before, I had asked for God to give me his eyes and heart for the day, so that I could see the children through his lens. And he gave me a glimpse of the way he sees us. Even in a crowd of ten thousand people, seeing me, his child, he is delighted. His heart bursts with love and joy. He is attentive to my every breath, every move; and he is more than content to simply be in the same room as me. Unlike my own human experience, however, He has the AMAZING ability to do that for every. single. person. In that crowd of 10,000… and even more so. He is that way for EACH of his children all across the globe, simultaneously!
I finished the bus ride in awe. Still heart broken, but in awe.
Over the next week and half, I continued to mourn having to walk away from that orphanage. For the first few days, not an hour would pass without her face filling my mind’s eye. My heart would break all over again each time. I was angry with God for letting me fall for her, knowing that I would only go to the orphanage once, knowing that I was on the World Race and would be leaving the country in a few days. Knowing that I was a single woman with no home, no vehicle, and no income so even if I wasn’t on the World Race, adoption was out of the question at the moment. WHY did my heart desperately yearn for someone, something that was completely out reach? It’s not fair.
I stalked the orphanage online, hoping to catch another glance of her face, to learn her name, her story. I found only one picture, and only learned her last name. It has now been over a month since that morning. I still think of her often, and still am slightly angry with God for breaking my heart for a child I could not help.
But I love her none the less.
I don’t know what the Lord’s plan is for her. I have no clue how I fit into that plan, or if I do at all. I have no clue whether I will ever see her precious face again in person. I don’t know if I will adopt her one day. I don’t know if I am supposed to financially sponsor her until she leaves the orphanage. I don’t know if she will eventually drift completely out of my memory and life. [I hope that is not the case, but I just really don’t know.] I don’t know, I don’t know, I DON’T KNOW!
All I know is that she captured my heart that day. She showed me that I am capable of loving a child with incredible fierceness and completeness. She taught me how my own heavenly Father sees me, and how he continues to see me every single day. And I am forever grateful for every minute I got to spend silently by her side, for every second that I got to hold her in my arms.
Here is a video that I made of our trip to the orphanage. There is only one brief picture of my sweet, nameless angel, but she is the one in orange on the green pillow. Also, this video is set to the song I talked about in this blog, naturally. Enjoy! 🙂
Team Woven Visits Thien Phuoc Orphanage from Katherine Kendall on Vimeo.
