First off, you might have to forgive me for jumping around and between topics today. There is so much to share, so this post is getting a bit of this and that.
I’m off to get ink and paper, so I can print three or four manuscripts of my story. I’m not usually one to sit by the printer and watch as if the machine is magical, but today may be a bit different. It’s probably a good thing no one else is around to watch or snap photos of me waiting by the printer’s side. But when they get home, they’ll probably be handed a freshly printed copy of my novel– which may someday be published with a lot of time and prayers.
On another note, I want to share with you a good story today. This one is perhaps my favorite, so hang in for the ride.
Two years ago, I had the opportunity to visit two orphanages run by an amazing Christian organization. Last I heard, I think they are supporting over 800 children. I couldn’t find where I had read that, but I’m almost positive on the stat. There are currently over 50 children in the location I visited.
Over the course of several days our team had the opportunity to play, carry, hug, and love on these kids. And well…we grew quite attached to them, so it was very difficult the night we had to say goodbye.
We formed a line that evening and one by one hugged each child. Tears fell down both their faces and ours. As I held each child I whispered “I love you” (one of the English phrases most of them knew). A younger child not understanding that we were leaving started tickling me to make me laugh. I picked her up and twirled her around before returning to the sobering line.
Another child came through the line and buried her face in my shoulder. Her tears streaking down her cheek. Gradually all of the children completed their goodbyes, except the young girl at my shoulder who remained.
All week this girl had seemed like she was still hurting from something. I couldn’t explain it. She just seemed like she needed more attention and love than some of the other children. It was in the midst of these thoughts, as tears from raw pain rolled down our cheeks, that I realized I could not leave without telling her how valuable she was to God and to me.
Still hugging her, I walked her over to someone that could translate my words into Thai. I asked the lady to tell her that she was beautiful. The girl with stained cheeks looked with anticipation, waiting to see what I had told the woman. But instead of speaking to the girl the woman’s next words were for me. She told me about how the girl’s family had all died from AIDs, and how they have to keep checking to make sure she hadn’t developed the disease.
My heart BROKE…
Here was a little girl who had already lost so much and still had the possibility of losing so much more.
I was stunned.
The lady turned from me and translated the words. I remember looking into the girl’s eyes and trying to hold back my tears. I braved a smile and nodded to let her know I really met those words. In response, she leaned forward and hugged me even tighter than before. It touched my soul.
As I climbed into the car that night, her hand slipped through the open window. I held onto it tightly, repeating aloud over and over “it’ll be okay”.
I intend to keep this promise.
Please pray with me for this child, for her health. Pray that she can remain in a place where she is already loved and supported.
Every 15 seconds another child is orphaned by AIDs–pray for them. I’m still learning about AIDs. To be honest, before my encounter with this child I didn’t know much. I can tell you it no longer scares me like it did. God used that moment to humanize this disease. Doctors are making a lot of progress. If you ever have considered giving a home to a child orphaned by AIDs, do your research on the disease. Some AIDs orphans do not have the disease at all. Others may have HIV, but can still live a normal life. There are many of them waiting. Could you be the one they’re looking for?