When I first heard that we’d be working this month with kids with special needs, my first thought was, “Thanks God, this will be so fun!”
I quickly learned that I had no idea what this kind of ministry looks like.
It’s heartbreaking.
It’s frustrating.
It’s messy.
It’s exhausting.
And it is beautiful.
I’m in the baby classroom. When I volunteered for that, I expected to spend my day holding infants; possibly my favorite activity in the world. But they aren’t literally babies, they’re toddlers who can’t walk, talk or feed themselves, so they’re like babies even though some of them are 5 years old. Like I said, it’s heartbreaking.
We spend all day moving them from their wheelchairs to the floor and back(because they get cranky staying in one place for too long), and constantly feeding them(because they can’t eat full sized meals so they have to eat small meals every two hours or so). At noon we take them to the dining hall to eat their lunch with the rest of the school, but other than that we’re in the same room for 6 hours a day with these poor kids who can’t move unless we move them.
The first day, I was feeding one of the little girls her lunch. This sweet child never is always smiling and laughing and I absolutely adore her, except that she doesn’t stop laughing to eat. So about half of every spoonful gets spit out. Which is kind of funny when you think about it, but not so much when I’m covered in unknown green stuff. As I’m trying to dodge the spray with a smile on my face, I ask God, “I need extra patience today because this is kind of adorable but mostly gross. Please please, tell me how to love these kids like I need to.”
So he asked me, “Would you think it was so gross if it was your child?”
He knows me too well. I thought about it and said, “Probably not. I think I’d love it too much to care.”
And he replied, “Well, this is my child, and I sent you to love her like I do.”
Wow.
Have I mentioned lately that I’m the most selfish person in the world? Because I really am.
These children need a special kind of love that most people aren’t willing to give. If I have the chance to pour some of that into them, who cares if I get spit on once in a while? Or kicked or punched or bitten?(all of which have happened to me multiple times every day) It’s completely worth the smile on their faces.
The next day the teacher in Rachel’s classroom told her that her kids were so excited to see Rachel because most volunteers come for one day and then quit. That made me mad, and so much more determined to pour every ounce of love I have into my babies.
That morning I was sitting on the floor playing with Alex, the biggest of my “babies”(he might be 6 or 7 years old) and the one who scared me the most. He rarely smiles or makes eye contact, and the main teacher is the only one who can feed him because no one else can get him to not punch them in the face. But as I was watching him from a safe distance, he suddenly started crying. Holding toys out for him at an arm’s length away wasn’t calming him down, so finally without thinking, I reached over and started stroking his hair, and it was like someone flipped a switch. The second I touched him, he locked his eyes on mine and got the biggest smile I’d ever seen on his face. I I scooped him up in my lap, took hold of one of his hands and kept playing his hair with my other, and he starts laughing and joyfully kicking his feet. He laughed and laughed until he eventually fell asleep.
I sat there rocking him back and forth, looking at his sweet face, this time not seeing a messy little boy who might hurt me; I saw a precious child that God made exactly how he is. There’s nothing “wrong” with him; he’s just different. No matter how physically and mentally different he is, he needs the same love as every other child I’ve met these past few months.
So many people(me included, I’ll freely admit) are intimidated by kids like these. But their biggest need really isn’t that special; they just need to be loved.
Last little thought: another of my girls, Maite, breaks my heart because she cries almost all the time, but punches anyone who tries to come near her. I asked God, “Why won’t she let me love her? It’d be so easy to just leave her in her corner and give up.” But God reminded me, “You don’t always let me love you either, but I never give up on you.”
So there’s that.
This is definitely a month of “special” education for me. I’m sure I’ll have more lessons to share next week.
Please pray that God will provide me with the last $1537 I need so I can stay on the Race. There are so many more people in the next 8 countries that he has for me to love, and I want to meet them. Click the “support me” link at the top of this page if you want to help me, and share this post on Facebook so your friends can read about what God is doing!
