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.