The Hard Things of Working in an Orphanage

The Hard Things

When I first thought of working in a children’s home, I have to admit that my thoughts were somewhat romanticized.  Rosy.  Thoughts of holding babies and hugging toddlers, playing with older kids who are so thankful and appreciative for your care of them.  And, at the beginning it was rosy-colored.  It still is.  Loving and helping these children offers a rewarding feeling of sharing love in a darkened world, even if only for a small few.

The other day, Keith (Ruth’s husband) and I were talking about the new baby, Brighit, in my arms.  She recently turned one and has been at the Josephine House for two weeks.  Keith commented on how one of his favorite things about being involved in overseeing a children’s home is witnessing the process of growth that happens between when a new child arrives often bedraggled, dirty and anxious to that time when they have adjusted to being in a new place, all cleaned up,  in new clothes, smiling and laughing and minus the creases of worry or pain on their little foreheads.  The process is not long.  It doesn't take long for these kids, ever so resilient, to relax and thrive in the arms of love.

But, this whole experience is not always easy and lovely.  Although I am usually a positive and thankful person, aware of the  many privileges in my life, there are still times when the hard things become overwhelming.

The Hard Things

Working with special needs children brings challenges of its own.  Long periods of time with little or very (very) slow progress and growth.  Behavior management issues that are challenging and not easy to change. 

A couple of months ago little Veronica died.  No one could have guessed that this non-verbal Down’s child had appendicitis.  We've been told that at least three of our other special needs children won’t have a long life expectancy.  

Brisayda’s health has suddenly taken a turn for the worse, losing her sensory ability, she’s not eating well like she had been a few weeks ago... she could go at any time.

The true stories of our children neglected and abandoned.  Heart wrenching stories of abuse that make you wonder how mankind could fall so low. 

The Hard Things

A loving family that developed bonds and love for two of the home’s older siblings.  Wanting  to adopt them as their own and the judge who’s said no twice, with no real reason.

A boy I would take home in an instant, but can't: born with fetal alcohol syndrome and just turned two, is nowhere close to walking or talking, and whose alcoholic mother unexpectedly obtained permission to visit him for the very first time.  A brief visit, no physical contact or perceivable interest, but she claims that she plans to get her son back one day.

The recent realization of the uncertainties of the Home’s future because of lack of substantial monthly, long-term support.  (We have about 8-10 months based on what's in the account now).

The Hard Things

I had been feeling stressed lately.  Not just for all the things beyond my control in the Casa J, but also for the cultural stresses and challenges that sometimes just feel overwhelming.  I miss home.  I miss family.  The culture that's familiar to me.

I found myself often repeating inside, and sometimes to Walter in conversation, “that’s not fair”.

Not fair that a child is born with significant challenges because his mother drank heavily throughout her pregnancy.

Not fair that another child was abandoned because of a cleft palate lip.  Not fair that another was born without a brain.

Not fair that I have had so many health issues since I've lived here.  (It gets more personal, and sometimes much more petty.)

Or, on the other side of the spectrum, how about  not fair that I just passed this lady sitting on the street without shoes, who likely has no place to call home, carrying my new fancy orthopedic pillow I bought from the chiropractor I recently started seeing.

Not Fair.  It occurred to me in one moment that this is a very dangerous thing to be repeating to myself.  A person can become depressed and bitter pretty quickly.  And I was.  That’s when the words to an old children’s song came into my head:  
“Count your blessings, name them one by one...”  I don’t remember the rest of the lyrics, but those are probably all I really needed!

And isn't that true?  When we focus on the things to be thankful for, the positive things, the God-given blessings, our outlook changes. 

Peace In the Storms

Walter and I took a week at the beginning of this month to help my parents-in-law on their farm by picking pinto beans: a break to get away from the city, to help out his parents and, for me, a short break from everything.  We were standing on the mountainside, working alongside each-other, Walter playing some of my favorite music on his phone when this song by Hillsong played.  I've listened to it lots of times before, and it’s one that’s become a favorite to both of us, but this is the first time these lyrics really stuck out and spoke to me:  

...Christ alone, Cornerstone
Weak made strong, in the Savior's love
Through the storm
He is Lord, Lord of All


When darkness seems to hide His face
I rest on His unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil...

I borrowed this quote from a friend’s Facebook page a few months ago.  It speaks to me more now than it did then:

  "Peace doesn't come from finding a lake with no storms. It comes from having Jesus in the boat."  (John Ortberg)

I just want to thank friends and family for your prayers.  I really believe that prayers hold us up above the hard, and the seemingly “unfair”, things of life.  Though the storms will stir up and the darkness cover the light, it’s only for a brief time.  The sun will rise again. The Son has risen, and for that I have hope for a better tomorrow.

And Hope in the Promises

And, so, I look at the hope around me.  The differences being made right now.  And to the One who orchestrates them and has plans for a different world- a marvelous one.

Beautiful Changes

Adriano in September 2011 when he first arrived, and Adriano these days, just turned 3.

Sweet little Angelito, when he arrived a few months ago, malnourished and underweight, and Angel today!

Angelito, Sept. 2013, with chubby cheeks!

Our newest little one, named Brighit, arrival day with Keith a couple of weeks ago, and now:

 

This girl I'm going to miss a lot.  Fabiola will be travelling to Lima soon to stay in another Home where she will have better health and longevity at sea-level.

Fabi, September 2013

Promises, Sanctus Real 

"Sometimes it's hard to keep believing in what you can't see
That everything happens for a reason even the worst life brings
If you're reaching for an answer and you don't know what to pray
Just open up the pages, let His Word be your strength

And hold on to the promises (hold tight)
Hold on to the promises (all right)
Jesus is alive, so hold tightHold on to the promises..."

Cornerstone, Hillsong

Your Love Never Fails, Jesus Culture

"There may be pain in the night but joy comes in the morning... 

...The wind is strong and the water's deep, But I'm not alone here in these open seas ... Cause Your love never fails..."