What a long day. A day full of the unknown, the unexpected and a few surprises. Of picnics in the park, playgrounds you have to pay for and interesting Indian circuses. Now here we were, past dark, on a bus heading back to Jireh with half of the kids asleep and the other half singing praise songs or whispering to each other. Chandru was resting against me, half pretending to be asleep while the restlessness inside of him kept him awake and alert. Naveen was finally asleep after staring out at the city, watching the cars go by, his head against the window until a turn placed his head on my shoulder.
As I watched them sleep I wondered if they ever missed their moms.
The previous week as we sat in a church service that went on and on in two different languages and put almost everyone to sleep I was kept awake by scratching the backs of two beautiful kids on either side of me. That was the first time I ever thought about the life these children live. They lived in a house full of faith and love. A house that encouraged and supported and taught all about our Savior. It was a home that would make anyone jealous.
But did they go to sleep every night without being tucked in? Did they miss or remember a mom kissing them on the forehead and telling them how much she loved them? That they were growing up so fast, that they are strong and handsome and perfectly made? Did they remember? Did they miss? Did they long?
How many times will my heart break for children who don't know their moms? How many times will I try to balance the big sister, Auntie and mom role all in one? Can I pour out that love without being any of those myself? Is it even my job? Papa loves them, isn't that all they need? I just need to pour His love back out to them, to be His mirror and His vessel to work through.
But I hugged them and kissed them and embarrassed the heck out of them as often as I could. I held hands and scratched backs and loved the best way I knew how, even if it wasn't always reciprocated.
I played the best mom I could.

Mom. I love you.
