My Own Kind of Children's Home

I have been in Monterrey now for almost 2 months!  Those two months were full of groups and groups and more groups. And (surprise surprise, not really by now) tears and tears and more tears from me.  I am sorry for my long absence and more has been going on emotionally and spiritually within me than I can write in one blog post, so I am going to do a series and take you back through my transition here (which is still going on).

This is an excerpt from a journal entry I wrote within my first week of being here (June 21, 2013).  My thoughts were inspired by Flor, who, at 3 years old, was dropped off at a children's home just 2 weeks before I arrived here in Monterrey.  I was sitting with her playing and all of a sudden she just broke down into tears.  She was crying out for her Mama and home.  I held her in my lap, hugged her, stroked her hair, and whispered in her ear God's promises for her for almost an hour straight.  From that experience came these thoughts:

"I am of the persuasion that God can use us wherever we are.  That we can be happy anywhere if we choose to be happy.  Our Joy comes from God and from him alone.  My mother would always tell us when we were younger that happiness is a choice.  I agree with this to an extent (and the point that she was trying to make to us.  Shout out to my wise mother!).  There are many times when people look at their situation and choose to be grumpy or negative. Instead of choosing to be positive they get sucked into self-pity.  But when we say that happiness is a choice we imply that sadness is a choice, which is something that I don't totally agree with.  I am not choosing to be sad, nor am I choosing to cry anytime I am in a conversation with someone that goes past "hola, como estas?"  And I don't think that my sadness is a bad thing.  Annoying to me, maybe.  Tiresome? Definitely. But bad? No. It's not a self-pitying kind of sadness where I can't ever allow myself to be happy.  It just a sadness that sometimes (often right now) makes my heart hurt and tears flow.  

I just don't understand why I feel such anguish that just a few minutes ago (and 2 months after leaving Nigeria) I was laying on my bed in the fetal position crying my eyes out.  And, I don't know if I should be working on that, or just letting it run its course.  But how long will it take to run its course?  How long will it be before I can talk to someone without getting red, puffy eyes and a snotty nose (which is not the best look to have when trying to make new friends let me tell you). In thinking about this, God has given me a powerful insight just now.

Sweet, little Flor at a moment where God is gracing her with a break from

the sadness. 

My current process somewhat resembles the process children who get dropped off in children's home are going through.  The Board of Directors (my "parents") decided that it was best for us if I left my home (Nigeria). They took me from the people that I love so dearly and dropped me off in a new place that feels, looks, and sounds nothing like home. I used to live in a small community and now I am just one in a sea of faces.  No matter how much the staff tries to make me feel like I am "at home", I am still missing and desperately want to go back to my real home.  Does it help when people show kindness and love toward me? Yes. Does it help when they take the time to pray with me? Most definitely. Does it erase everything that has happened or the longing for home that I still feel inside? No.  

But maybe, with time, this can feel like a safe place and a place that I can grow and live. Are there still going to be days that just like sweet, little Flor, I am going to cry and cry and scream out that I want my family and my home? Yes [and in fact today, August 9, is one of those days].  Is that ok? Yes.  Are there times that I am going to feel guarded and not want to talk to anyone so I give short replies no matter how many questions people ask me or how sweetly they ask? Yes, most certainly because I don't want to cry all the time and it is exhausting! 

God is giving me a glimpse of the feelings that these children in the homes have and the process they are going through.  We are going through this process together and it is an extremely powerful realization that I am thanking God for."

As God leads me through this transition into my own kind of children's home, He has given me this understanding of why some of the kids in our homes act the way they do.  I feel like I can better understand them because our stories are a lot more similar than they may appear from the outside. The process and transformation that God is doing in us is very similar. I am praying that God will continue to heal my heart and reconcile all parts of me to Him just like I am praying that he will do for the children in the homes we work with and all around the globe.