My head is spinning. Literally. I have thoughts running about a mile a minute, and feel both the excitement and the enormity of the task ahead.
The orphanages in Guangxi have sent me 21 "questions" or topics they would like to have addressed. Twenty-one. At first glance I thought that it would be literally impossible to address them all within the limitations of time that we have. But as I have thought and reflected on these questions, there is a common theme: "how do we help the hearts of our kids"? I'm not talking hearts in the literal sense, but the heart/soul. This is the first time the orphanages have asked directly for training about the emotional aspects of their children. They asked questions such as "how do we handle emotional problems of different ages"?, "kids long for family life, why? and what can we do"?, "how do we help kids who hate their birth parents"?, "how do we help children emotionally who have cerebral palsy, down syndrome, autism, hyperactivity, deafness, or mental challenges"? The fact that they are asking these questions is a breakthrough in my mind, and brings me hope. Hope that the orphanages are beginning to see the importance of the whole child, and are developing the insight that in order to help a child, any child, they need to be mindful of a child's emotional development.
This means I have a great deal of work ahead of me. Coincidentally (*NOT*), last December I was awarded a grant to study with Dr Bruce Perry, who is a leading expert in treating children with neglect and trauma. His premise is focused on relationship based healing. He emphasizes the importance of having stable, predictable, nurturing people as healers for those who have been neglected, abused, or traumatized. Through repetitive nurturing, and sensory based co-activities, he has seen tremendous emotional progress for some of the most traumatized and vulnerable children. At the time I received the grant, I thought that the information would be invaluable for understanding my own children better as they have been impacted by both neglect and trauma, as well as for my professional skills as a pediatric OT working with a high risk population in early intervention. I now understand that I received this grant as preparation for what was to come for November. It is information which will help address the very questions posed of these thoughtful orphanages. I honestly am in awe with how I have received some unknowing preparation which could bring hope to the children I will see.
The task is huge, but what I am realizing is that there is now a new awareness on the part of these orphanages. They truly understand that the emotional life of a child cannot be separated any longer from the physical life. They get it, and this is a big step forward. This understanding, and the change that could possibly come from it, is what hope looks like.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Loving big
Exactly two months from today we leave for China. It still seems surreal to actually write it, with lots to do before we leave. I trust that it will all get done, and am excited to get on that plane and back to our beloved Guangxi. The two needed passports have been sent for, our airline tickets are purchased, and we have begun the work of trying to plan out teachings for the orphanages.
Today, one of my dearest friends told me that I am someone willing to love big. It's an idea I haven't stopped to consider before, at least in application for myself. After it was said, I thought about what it really means to love big, specifically what it means in the context of this trip. The reality is, my daughters and I are going to a place where buildings are full of children whose parents were unable to take care of them. That alone is a thought that makes me shudder under the weight of it. What does loving big look like to a newborn baby who only feels fear, desperate for the familiar sound of her mother's voice? And what does loving big look like to the toddler whose only contact with the world outside his crib is by looking through the bars? What would loving big look like to a preschool aged child who cannot hear what is spoken to him, and can only cry to communicate? What would loving big look like to a child whose body is deformed from years of abnormal muscle tone? And what would it look like to the young teen who has never had anyone choose her for their family? Or what would loving big look like to the teen who feels there is no point to living anymore? What would loving big look like to the young orphanage caregiver who has never experienced any life beyond the orphanage gates? Ever.
There are times when I think about the task before us and know it will not be easy. I am not perfect, so despite my desire to love big, I will fall short. And, as my friend reminded me, a willingness to love big means the risk of hurting big too. The suffering some children experience is heartbreaking. Seeing, holding, talking to, and loving a suffering child only to let them go back is heart wrenching. Each child and person placed into our path is a gift, possessing a unique presence which the world needs to experience. There is a purpose and a reason for each life. I know this with all of my core. And yet, the gifts could be easily missed in the rush of trying to serve each and every child. I know the words "xia yige" (next one) will come quickly when we are working. They always do, and despite my prayer to have ample time to spend with each child, there is never enough.
The need is so great. It's beyond words to try to explain it. Yet, I know that there is a purpose to go and do a very small part within that need. I am determined to try to experience each and every gift placed into our paths as best I can. And I am determined to try to love big, although this really won't come from me. The ability to love big comes from Him who is the ultimate in loving big, and who has opened the doors to make this trip possible. I know that loving big will look like "compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience" (Col 3:12), and am incredibly grateful for this chance to play a part in trying to love big.
Today, one of my dearest friends told me that I am someone willing to love big. It's an idea I haven't stopped to consider before, at least in application for myself. After it was said, I thought about what it really means to love big, specifically what it means in the context of this trip. The reality is, my daughters and I are going to a place where buildings are full of children whose parents were unable to take care of them. That alone is a thought that makes me shudder under the weight of it. What does loving big look like to a newborn baby who only feels fear, desperate for the familiar sound of her mother's voice? And what does loving big look like to the toddler whose only contact with the world outside his crib is by looking through the bars? What would loving big look like to a preschool aged child who cannot hear what is spoken to him, and can only cry to communicate? What would loving big look like to a child whose body is deformed from years of abnormal muscle tone? And what would it look like to the young teen who has never had anyone choose her for their family? Or what would loving big look like to the teen who feels there is no point to living anymore? What would loving big look like to the young orphanage caregiver who has never experienced any life beyond the orphanage gates? Ever.
There are times when I think about the task before us and know it will not be easy. I am not perfect, so despite my desire to love big, I will fall short. And, as my friend reminded me, a willingness to love big means the risk of hurting big too. The suffering some children experience is heartbreaking. Seeing, holding, talking to, and loving a suffering child only to let them go back is heart wrenching. Each child and person placed into our path is a gift, possessing a unique presence which the world needs to experience. There is a purpose and a reason for each life. I know this with all of my core. And yet, the gifts could be easily missed in the rush of trying to serve each and every child. I know the words "xia yige" (next one) will come quickly when we are working. They always do, and despite my prayer to have ample time to spend with each child, there is never enough.
The need is so great. It's beyond words to try to explain it. Yet, I know that there is a purpose to go and do a very small part within that need. I am determined to try to experience each and every gift placed into our paths as best I can. And I am determined to try to love big, although this really won't come from me. The ability to love big comes from Him who is the ultimate in loving big, and who has opened the doors to make this trip possible. I know that loving big will look like "compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience" (Col 3:12), and am incredibly grateful for this chance to play a part in trying to love big.
Monday, September 1, 2014
Resistance
Just last week I shared with wise counsel that I didn't think I would be returning to China anytime soon. Just.Last.Week. As in four days ago. I reasoned that airfare was so ridiculously high. That it would be a feat to take four children, two of whom are transfused regularly, back as a single parent to do orphanage work. With my counsel, I struggled to process why this was happening, as returning to give back through orphanage trainings has always been so right. It is a small part of what I can do to help orphans. The orphanages are desperate for trainings. They are overfull with children with a variety of special needs. My wise counsel explained that perhaps that my season of orphanage work was to get me to where I am today. A building block, of some sort, to get me to a "tentmaker position" (her words), where I am doing His work for the four little girls who were given to me. She said, perhaps, the work of that season is finished.
God has a huge sense of humor.
A few months ago, my meimei, a young woman God gifted to me as a younger sister living in China, lost her only child to a drowning accident. I wrestled with the senselessness of a life lost at age four. I wrestled with the helplessness of being so far away. I desperately wanted to comfort meimei. I wanted to be there to mourn with her. The best I could do was to mourn with her by phone, with the help of a friend who could translate for us. I begged her to consider coming to stay with us in the United States, as crazy as that would be. Since I couldn't get to Guangxi, I thought, she could come here. It is something I have continued to pray for.
Saturday night we spent time with some dear friends who spoke about their journey in life. How they thought they would be in one place, only to find themselves in a different spot. My friend spoke of the "resistance" we encounter when something is our will, but not God's will. I thought of the resistance I have been encountering as I looked at those flight prices to get back to China. Flight prices for next summer. For December. For February. Each time I looked, those prices were beyond high. Resistance.
And then, yesterday morning, I got an email from a friend living in Taiwan. She is one of meimei's closest friends. She said she would go back to the Mainland in November, and asked if I would consider going. I chuckled to myself thinking about those high flight prices. But I decided to look anyways. I quickly found the prices are half of what they have been. HALF. I shrieked. What was going on? Where was the resistance? I then quickly emailed my partner in Guangxi since together we do the orphanage trainings. I asked her if she thought we could work together in November. Her words "please come. The orphanages have been asking when you will come back". The resistance is gone, and it is clear where I need to be in November.
This is not what I was expecting at all. I have one child without a US passport, after being adopted only a year ago. Another child has an expired passport. We will need to get those passports, and all of our visas. We will need to arrange with the schools to bring work. There are supplies that the children in the orphanages and foster homes could benefit from. There is a transfusion schedule to plan around. There is my prayer that others from the US will be able to come to help. There is a powerpoint presentation to develop, which must be translated into Chinese. However, I am confident it will all fall into place. We are clearly meant to be back in Guangxi come November.
I know this all sounds crazy, that a single mother of four daughters would take them all back for a short term mission trip. The logical thoughts of "is it right to take them out of school, especially for the one who struggles so much with learning" and "wouldn't it be better to just travel yourself". But I know, in every fiber of my soul, that God is doing something in the lives of my daughters as they work alongside me in *their* orphanages. There is healing. There is compassion. There is the understanding that there is more to life than just themselves. And there are benefits for them beyond that which I can ever even see.
God is good. And funny. And merciful. He has opened that door without resistance. And now we plan to walk through.
God has a huge sense of humor.
A few months ago, my meimei, a young woman God gifted to me as a younger sister living in China, lost her only child to a drowning accident. I wrestled with the senselessness of a life lost at age four. I wrestled with the helplessness of being so far away. I desperately wanted to comfort meimei. I wanted to be there to mourn with her. The best I could do was to mourn with her by phone, with the help of a friend who could translate for us. I begged her to consider coming to stay with us in the United States, as crazy as that would be. Since I couldn't get to Guangxi, I thought, she could come here. It is something I have continued to pray for.
Saturday night we spent time with some dear friends who spoke about their journey in life. How they thought they would be in one place, only to find themselves in a different spot. My friend spoke of the "resistance" we encounter when something is our will, but not God's will. I thought of the resistance I have been encountering as I looked at those flight prices to get back to China. Flight prices for next summer. For December. For February. Each time I looked, those prices were beyond high. Resistance.
And then, yesterday morning, I got an email from a friend living in Taiwan. She is one of meimei's closest friends. She said she would go back to the Mainland in November, and asked if I would consider going. I chuckled to myself thinking about those high flight prices. But I decided to look anyways. I quickly found the prices are half of what they have been. HALF. I shrieked. What was going on? Where was the resistance? I then quickly emailed my partner in Guangxi since together we do the orphanage trainings. I asked her if she thought we could work together in November. Her words "please come. The orphanages have been asking when you will come back". The resistance is gone, and it is clear where I need to be in November.
This is not what I was expecting at all. I have one child without a US passport, after being adopted only a year ago. Another child has an expired passport. We will need to get those passports, and all of our visas. We will need to arrange with the schools to bring work. There are supplies that the children in the orphanages and foster homes could benefit from. There is a transfusion schedule to plan around. There is my prayer that others from the US will be able to come to help. There is a powerpoint presentation to develop, which must be translated into Chinese. However, I am confident it will all fall into place. We are clearly meant to be back in Guangxi come November.
I know this all sounds crazy, that a single mother of four daughters would take them all back for a short term mission trip. The logical thoughts of "is it right to take them out of school, especially for the one who struggles so much with learning" and "wouldn't it be better to just travel yourself". But I know, in every fiber of my soul, that God is doing something in the lives of my daughters as they work alongside me in *their* orphanages. There is healing. There is compassion. There is the understanding that there is more to life than just themselves. And there are benefits for them beyond that which I can ever even see.
God is good. And funny. And merciful. He has opened that door without resistance. And now we plan to walk through.
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