One of the major things we learned was this:
God requires us to care for orphans.
I think often times many people feel oppressed by this thought, in that, they automatically assume that they are required to adopt.
Not so!
There are so many things that can be done to help orphans! In our case, over the winter, it was to host and advocate. It cost money, but God provided. It took time and energy, but God gave us strength. God doesn't challenge us with easy tasks. He puts our nose to the grindstone, but in the end, it builds His kingdom and builds our faith. Isn't that why we are here!?
I understand that not everyone is able to host. With that, I think about many of our friends and family who helped a fatherless child - by helping us! That was something awesome that we saw! We were the hosting family, but we couldn't do it on our own! The overflow of donated clothing, finances to help us, prayer support, fun activities sponsored by families - that helped! That all helped! It helped us - but it also helped her. She was able to come, she wore the clothes, she experienced the fun activities... she experienced a family, because of the help we received.
I understand that not everyone is able to host. With that, I think about many of our friends and family who helped a fatherless child - by helping us! That was something awesome that we saw! We were the hosting family, but we couldn't do it on our own! The overflow of donated clothing, finances to help us, prayer support, fun activities sponsored by families - that helped! That all helped! It helped us - but it also helped her. She was able to come, she wore the clothes, she experienced the fun activities... she experienced a family, because of the help we received.
However, that's not all! There are orphanages that need supplies, people can donate.
There are missionaries serving orphans that need prayer, people can pray.
There are so many avenues of service that are possible here... and God leads each family in the way they should attend to orphan care. My only plea - is that everyone would have an open heart and mind to the great gift of giving! Give of yourself so that others may be blessed; so that orphans can be cared for!
There are so many avenues of service that are possible here... and God leads each family in the way they should attend to orphan care. My only plea - is that everyone would have an open heart and mind to the great gift of giving! Give of yourself so that others may be blessed; so that orphans can be cared for!
Wow... can we say, "Rabbit Trail!!"
Those were just some thoughts rattling through my brain. I do have a story to tell!!
We only had a few days left. We started packing her clothes and her new goodies from Christmas into her large suitcase. With every shirt I folded and placed into the bag, I prayed.
With every pair of pants I rolled into a small bundle, I wiped a tear.
With every moment that passed, I realized it was one moment closer to her leaving us - I struggled. This girl had become one of us...
We started having to say goodbye to family in the area because soon we would be headed to Minneapolis. The tears began when we were at Josh's parent's place. We had spent Sunday morning there after church and when it was time to go, the tears started. She knew. She understood. We explained that it was the last time she'd see them for now, but we didn't even have to say anything. She was well aware. She kept track on her calendar that we made her. She knew her time with us drew close to an end. She hugged my in-laws in a tight grip and sobbed in my mother-in-law's arms. Everyone cried. These were the days we were dreading. These were the days we never wanted to come. These days arrived so much faster than we wanted.
We started having to say goodbye to family in the area because soon we would be headed to Minneapolis. The tears began when we were at Josh's parent's place. We had spent Sunday morning there after church and when it was time to go, the tears started. She knew. She understood. We explained that it was the last time she'd see them for now, but we didn't even have to say anything. She was well aware. She kept track on her calendar that we made her. She knew her time with us drew close to an end. She hugged my in-laws in a tight grip and sobbed in my mother-in-law's arms. Everyone cried. These were the days we were dreading. These were the days we never wanted to come. These days arrived so much faster than we wanted.
Next stop, my parent's place. My mom was there to embrace Anna and she was ready to be engulfed in her loving arms. More tears. Sobbing again. My heart was breaking in a million pieces. I could barely contain my emotions, but I kept it together as best as possible. I felt like a limb of my body was being amputated. I wasn't sure how I'd be able to function again when she was gone. People would sometimes say to me, "When is she leaving? Are you looking forward to things getting back to normal?"
Normal!?
Nothing would be normal ever again. Our normal had changed. Now, our "normal" was with Anna.
We had to be at the airport really early on the 15th. On the 14th of January, we got everything packed in the car and headed to the big city. She put on her dance music and danced around with Aden as we packed our overnight bags. She was in a good mood while I was fighting back tears. She would see my sad face and she would smile at me and give me a hug. "I love you." She would confirm over and over and I just ached to keep her home.
We drove to Minneapolis.
When we were there, we stayed at a beautiful Marriott near the airport with a few other host families. The kids had a great time playing in the swimming pool together and talking to each other about their experiences in America.
Once it was time to sleep, I could hardly close my eyes. For some reason, maybe I thought that if I didn't sleep, the next day would never come. I was dreading it. Anna was sleeping soundly. She was so safe, so secure. I wanted to be able to protect that forever. I wanted to keep her safe forever. I wanted to make sure she felt secure forever! In a matter of hours, that was completely out of my hands! In fact, I knew, it never truly was in my hands to begin with... but at least when she was near me, I could protect her to a certain extent.
It reached around 4am and I was out of bed. I don't remember when we had to be to the airport, but it was very early. We got up and this began Anna's sullen mood (probably because she was half asleep). The day we were all dreading, had arrived. We piled into the car and drove quietly to the airport. Anna clung to me. She held me like I had held her the first day we met. She clung to me and I hung onto her just as tight in return. I didn't want to let her go.
We got to the airport, met up with our group, and the kids got their checked baggage taken care of. At that point, we waited. We simply sat together and waited. I hugged her the entire time and I cried. She was quiet. She just sat, almost in a daze. Then, then it was time to say goodbye.
We walked up to security and while everyone else got into the line, she just clung to me. This is when she started to sob. She tried to let go and she came back again, more hugs. I knew I had to get her into the line, but I wasn't willing to make her go. It wasn't until I angered her chaperone that I finally let her out of my arms. I didn't want to get her into trouble... so she walked away and I stood there. Numb. Silent. Unbelieving that a portion of my heart was getting onto an airplane and I may never see her again.
We watched as she went through security.
We watched and waved every time she looked our way.
I wasn't going to leave until I could not see her face anymore.
And then, she was gone. We stood there for a moment almost unsure what to do. My levelheaded husband was the first to say, "Let's go home."
Those words made the hair on my neck stand on end.
Home? How can I go home?
How can I even look into that empty bedroom?
How can I go into the bathroom without thinking about how I dried her hair EVERY morning after her bath?
How can I continue the day-to-day routine I had be so used to before her arrival... it all seemed so trivial.
Regardless, we went home. I have never cried so long and so hard ever before in my life.
I have never felt like I had used every possible tear I could muster up - until that day.
Yet, at the same time, I have never felt so, numb.
We arrived home and I had a headache from crying.
I just remember taking a nap and waking up in the same mood.
But that's grief.
Looking back, it was good. It was a good cry. It was a release.
We couldn't be her forever family and we knew it.
We couldn't keep her in our home for longer than the hosting period - and we knew it.
We knew this was going to be the ending, but we had NO idea how deep, emotional, and impacting it would be.
When you sign up to "host an orphan," you think you're doing some kid a favor by giving them a nice Christmas... but I can not even articulate into words the deep consequences hosting an orphan brings.
You learn to truly and incredibly love unconditionally.
You learn to not just open your heart... it gets torn, ripped to shreds, towards this fatherless child.
You laugh at things you never thought you'd laugh at.
You understand things you never knew you needed to understand.
God helps you find your strengths in your weaknesses.
God makes you consider the unimaginable...
You ache to the innermost part of your body because you know this child is hurting... and all you can offer is your presence, love, and security... but only for a month.
Life changing seems like such a minimal description of what this experience does.
But what else can I say?
With all that pain in the goodbye, I look back and wonder sometimes how I survived.
Then I think -
If I had to do it all over again... I would.
In A HEARTBEAT.
I believe Tennyson said it best:
I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.
We got to the airport, met up with our group, and the kids got their checked baggage taken care of. At that point, we waited. We simply sat together and waited. I hugged her the entire time and I cried. She was quiet. She just sat, almost in a daze. Then, then it was time to say goodbye.
We walked up to security and while everyone else got into the line, she just clung to me. This is when she started to sob. She tried to let go and she came back again, more hugs. I knew I had to get her into the line, but I wasn't willing to make her go. It wasn't until I angered her chaperone that I finally let her out of my arms. I didn't want to get her into trouble... so she walked away and I stood there. Numb. Silent. Unbelieving that a portion of my heart was getting onto an airplane and I may never see her again.
We watched as she went through security.
We watched and waved every time she looked our way.
I wasn't going to leave until I could not see her face anymore.
And then, she was gone. We stood there for a moment almost unsure what to do. My levelheaded husband was the first to say, "Let's go home."
Those words made the hair on my neck stand on end.
Home? How can I go home?
How can I even look into that empty bedroom?
How can I go into the bathroom without thinking about how I dried her hair EVERY morning after her bath?
How can I continue the day-to-day routine I had be so used to before her arrival... it all seemed so trivial.
Regardless, we went home. I have never cried so long and so hard ever before in my life.
I have never felt like I had used every possible tear I could muster up - until that day.
Yet, at the same time, I have never felt so, numb.
We arrived home and I had a headache from crying.
I just remember taking a nap and waking up in the same mood.
But that's grief.
Looking back, it was good. It was a good cry. It was a release.
We couldn't be her forever family and we knew it.
We couldn't keep her in our home for longer than the hosting period - and we knew it.
We knew this was going to be the ending, but we had NO idea how deep, emotional, and impacting it would be.
When you sign up to "host an orphan," you think you're doing some kid a favor by giving them a nice Christmas... but I can not even articulate into words the deep consequences hosting an orphan brings.
You learn to truly and incredibly love unconditionally.
You learn to not just open your heart... it gets torn, ripped to shreds, towards this fatherless child.
You laugh at things you never thought you'd laugh at.
You understand things you never knew you needed to understand.
God helps you find your strengths in your weaknesses.
God makes you consider the unimaginable...
You ache to the innermost part of your body because you know this child is hurting... and all you can offer is your presence, love, and security... but only for a month.
Life changing seems like such a minimal description of what this experience does.
But what else can I say?
With all that pain in the goodbye, I look back and wonder sometimes how I survived.
Then I think -
If I had to do it all over again... I would.
In A HEARTBEAT.
I believe Tennyson said it best:
I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.
