I Hate Fridays 202/365

 I hate Fridays at camp!  I really do.  They are awful, and I wouldn't wish then on my worst enemy.  After breakfast, we have letter reading.  We the volunteers have written letters to our children.  They are heartfelt, and of course always tell them how much they are valued and loved.  They can also write letters to us.  These are then read out loud.  This was the face of my little Rebekah when she heard her letter being read to her.

I can't even begin to describe the crying that Susan did.  She needed to hear the words in my letter to her.  She needed to know that even though, she was never chosen, that she was worthy.  She needed to know that given a chance I would have loved to have been her mother and would have been proud to have her as my daughter.  She needed to know that no matter what walls she puts up to keep people at a distance that there were people willing to pursue her heart no matter what road blocks she tried to throw up.  She needed more than anything to see the words I love you.  Most of all she needed to know that no, she is not forgotten.  In her letter to me, she expressed the concern of being forgotten and even ended her letter with, don't forget me.

This was later after we had finally dried up our tears. I didn't want to let her go now that her walls were down.  I wanted to keep pouring my life into hers.  I wanted her to know that just as she is, she has such value and worth.  In all honesty, I just wanted to keep her and tell her, you are chosen.

We used our last little bit of time together having fun.  Rebekah painted my nails.  I had more paint on my skin then my nails, but it didn't matter.  It was worth it.

This is our last family picture before the dreaded bus.  This time I wouldn't say goodbye and put my girls on the bus, I was going to be going with them.  I was taking all 35 kids back to the orphanage, and I can promise you I have never done anything harder in all my life.

You see, for an entire week, these kids get loved on. INDIVIDUALLY, they receive love.  They get all of their needs met.  Even the most hardened hearts eventually melt at the continual love and care they get from us.  This is truly what they desire, to be loved and to belong.  So, one by one the volunteers load the bus and have to give back the children that they so desperately love.  It is the most gut wrenching thing you can imagine.  I honestly have never been through anything worse in my life.  The kids begin wailing, and the volunteers and trying their best to keep composure, but it just doesn't happen.  The desire in these children is so strong to stay.  Out of desperation, some of them begin screaming for their volunteers, and others smack their faces against the window with tears streaming.  Outside the bus, the volunteers begin to hold each other up.  No one wants it to end.  Then the bus doors eventually close, and the bus pulls away.  The screams become louder as the volunteers disappear out of site of the children.  I found myself loving on one little guy who kept yelling, "don't make me go, I want to go back," (in Mandarin of course.)  He was the last hold our crying for over 45 minutes until he finally fell asleep.  Then, after a few hours we arrived here, their "home."  It is the 10 story building in the background.  It broke my heart to unload them them watch them go away.  I had prepped my other bus helper not to cry because I didn't want the kids to start again, so he and I both stayed strong.

This is where I will tell you, that if you have ever thought about adoption, then please answer the call.  These kids truly long to be a part of a family.  While our entire week is a beautiful picture of the gospel, Friday just isn't.  God loves us and takes us as his sons and daughters.  He doesn't give us back, he holds on tight.  But for us, we had to let go.  My strong desire is that each of these kids would feel the love that they did in this one week, by a family who chooses them.

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God's Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, "Abba, Father."For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God's children. Romans 8:14-16