The Children...

I've posted about my travels and I've posted about my weird encounters but one thing I haven't posted about is my time at the Children's home. Mainly because I don't know what to say.  We are known as the tia's who speak English, and when I hear from other people that the kids ask where we are when we aren't there, it warms my heart but also breaks it.  When I go to the home I feel like i'm going to fight a battle; earrings are removed and hair is pulled up.  I return home looking like i've lost the battle; hair a mess, covered in slobber and more times than I'd probably like to admit, I've been peed on.  I wish I could share with you my photos of the bright smiling faces of the kids but in order to keep them safe I'm not able to do so over social media.  

I wish I could take them all home with me.  Give them simple things they crave like to be held or hugged.  To be told they are loved and that someone cares.  I struggle with the reality that these kids are being raised in a government system.  Yes, they are getting their basic needs met but to me that's not enough.

When I pick up one child and have the other children pushing, kicking and crying to be next it breaks my heart.  When I try to put a child down so that I can pay attention to as many as possible and they try their hardest to not let me go, it breaks my heart.  Sometimes I just sit in the floor and let them crawl all over me.  Yes I sometimes get a shoe to the face and at times I don't think I'll ever be able to escape from all the arms and legs trying to hold me down.  But its those moments that I don't want to end.  I go to the home to love on the kids but I end up being the one who feels loved, needed and wanted.  My hands are tied as to what I can do for the kids.  I can't take them home, I can't change their situations but I can love on them while I'm here.

One of the biggest questions I ask and will never get an answer for is, Why?  Why are kids born into these situations?  They didn't ask for it, they did nothing wrong, but why are they the ones suffering for other peoples mistakes and mis-judgments.  The only answer that I can find is that we live in fallen world.  Sin enters the picture and everything that God made in perfection is broken.  I try not to look down on the parents of the kids.  If it wasn't for God's grace, I could have easily been in their shoes, having to let the government care for my children until I get my life straight.  That is the hope that I have for the children at the home.  I pray that their parents will be able to take them back, provide a safe home for them and raise them like children should be raised.  For those that are in the system for life, I pray that they will be adopted into a loving, forever family.

Let me share with you a little about these sweet kiddos...of course I won't use their names :)

A is one of my favorites.  I know I shouldn't have favorites but its hard not to.  Some of the kids are happy to entertain themselves and get occasional accolades from you.  Others require more attention and attack you the moment you walk through the door of the play room.  A likes to cuddle.  I love it when he first sees me walk in the room because his eyes light up and he runs right to me.  He likes me to pick him up and carry him like he's an airplane, buzzing through the sky.  Last week I asked him if he was my friend and his eyes lit up, he nodded and then hugged me then just stayed there, with his head on my shoulder.  Another game of ours is for me to hold him and he'll yell "Tia!" and I'll pretend like i'm going to drop him but then I catch him real fast.  He laughs so hard.

B is a sweet little girl.  I have only been there with her once but that brief encounter with her was a substantial one.  She is latino with light auburn colored hair.  I was playing with some of the kids and I felt tugging on the leg of my pants and I looked down and she was looking up at me, crying, screaming "Mamà" all while holding her arms straight up in the air. It caught me off guard I picked her up and she was instantly quiet.  The rest of my time there that day she was glued to me.  Lesley ended up holding her at one point but came over to me with B in her arms and told me that B had told her that she wanted me to hold her.

C and D are brothers.  C is the oldest and won't talk except to call on me and once he told me he wanted some water but that's the extent of his talking.  He follows me around and laughs when I mimic the sounds of monkeys or chickens.  He also laughs when I speak English to Blake or Lesley.  It's the good laugh too, like a big chuckle.  D is the younger brother and he will talk and play.  Both C and D enjoy tossing and kicking a ball around but there is usually a constant battle between D and A for me to hold them.

E is a cute little girl.  When I'm holding her she'll just look at me, smile, and say "abrazo".  I hug her and she laughs and that's the extent of it.  I just hug her over and over.

F is a kid that likes to ride this little fire truck around the play room.  He's pretty content to just ride around and observe but every so often I catch up with him and stick my foot in the path of the truck without him knowing and it brings his ride to an abrupt halt.  When he sees what's stopping him he looks at me and smiles really big and then pedals harder to get free.

I could go on but I hope you the picture...these kids are precious and deserve so much more than the hand they've been dealt.  Pray for these kids and for their families that there will be closure, reconciliation and that the needs of the kids will be put first.  

God is Multilingual!

One of the things that has been inhibitive to me during my tenure in Arica has been the language.  I prepared by starting Rosetta Stone before coming here and it helped but my conversational Spanish is far from where it needs to be.  I can understand more when standing on the outside of conversations or when i'm reading.  I have a really hard time identifying what people are asking or saying to me, partly because I can't think in Spanish as fast as they can speak it.

Church is usually the hardest for me, I sing along because the words are projected on the wall and I rarely recognize the song unless its an old hymn.  The times I do recall the words I will sometimes sing the English words just because it's easier for me to do so.  I always felt on the outside of worship services because although I could read the words to the songs, I didn't always know exactly what I was saying.  This Sunday though that changed for me,  during praise and worship we sang a song that I am familiar with and one that I love, "Worthy is the Lamb."  I have this song on my iPod and I am very familiar with the words and message of the song.  I felt that while singing the song in Spanish I was really worshipping because for the first time in 6 weeks I understood exactly the words and message of the song.  During that time though I felt God tell me that he had heard and understood me all along.  It was then that I was reminded that worship is a heart matter and not dependent on words coming out of our mouth, but rather the condition of the heart we approach our Creator with.

"...For the Lord sees not as man sees;

man looks on the outward appearance,

but the Lord looks on the heart."

1 Samuel 16:7

I was reminded that worship isn't just songs we sing on Sunday but the way we live our lives every single day.  It's how we treat others, how we respond to those who speak against us and how we live our life, etc.  God sees our hearts, God understands me whether I'm singing word for word in English with total comprehension or if I'm singing in broken Spanish just grasping the gist of the message of the song.  Entering worship with a heart of thanksgiving, a heart of humbleness and a heart of complete surrender, even if we don't fully understand the words we speak; God sees us, hears us and loves us all the same.

"My son, be attentive to my words; 

incline your ear to my sayings.

Let them no escape from your sight;

keep them within your heart.

For they are life to those who find them,

and healing to all their flesh.

Keep your heart with all vigilance,

for from it flows the springs of life."

Proverbs 4:20-23

July 4th...South American Style

Here's a how-to guide to celebrating your country's independence in a foreign country...

1.  Buy beef imported from the USA...cows from America are happier ;-)

2.  Find a grill and light it up.  Nothing says "Happy Birthday America" than grilled meat.

3.  Give steaks adequate time to cook on the grill, then enjoy with a baked potato and a cold beverage

4.  Find a great nap-time companion.

5.  Go for a walk at the beach

6.  Bake an Apple Pie and enjoy it with some cold vanilla ice cream!  

     Yes, when you don't have a pie dish, you use whatever you have.  

Nothing can compare to fireworks and time with family and friends but this will at least give you a taste of home! 

 Happy July 4th Everyone!!