Friday, September 3, 2010

Sleepless Nights: Update from August 19, 2010


I have been writing a lot about children lately; how my time with them affects me, how they love, and other random thoughts. I have always known that I want to have my own someday, and raising a family is one of my dreams, but this past weekend put that dream closer to reality. I was on a team staying the night at an orphanage for kids who have been abandoned which also served as a refuge for mothers who have been abandoned which was a good hour drive outside of Monrovia, Liberia. There were around 15 kids that lived there ranging from infants to 12 years old, around 5 severely, mentally handicapped and there was one mother with triplets who had been abandoned.
It was a crazy place that, to be honest, I was not quite ready for it, mentally. As we arrived, the kids were shy and were made to sing us a welcome song. The place we were to spend the next 48 hours in was nicer than I thought it would be, at first. As you got to know it, it became less enamoring, but the hearts that the place housed became all the more wonderful. It was a simple building painted something like a school out of the 80’s or early 90’s with the bland yellow color and an ugly maroon shade occupying the walls. There was a TV there which was used every night when the generator was turned on, around 7 or 8 pm. One experience was the Liberian movies, which were like a bad High School drama production. We brought along a Veggie Tales movie to play for the kids, but I am not sure that they quite understood it fully, as a lot of the humor is very American. They liked watching it because they could tell it was well done though. The first night was occupied with dinner and getting to know the kids a little bit and a movie.
The next day was Sunday, and we had prepared a program for the kids for some point in that day. After a hot, restless night, I woke up to babies crying, which I would find out consistent ambience all throughout our two days at the place. As the day progressed and we played with the children, the Sunday “service” was called. We did our thing, or parts of it, and finished. The day continued and, as the team ran out of energy, the playing fizzled into naps and reading with the kids. That night, we got the front seat to another African movie, which was awful. Then we went to sleep, or at least I tried to.
The second night was worse than the first as it was just as hot, and I was too tired to sleep well. The bed I was on (we were very blessed to even have beds) gave me the impression that I was being invaded by a legion of bugs that wanted my flesh. I couldn’t sleep. The next morning I was grumpy, but the kids were not. They wanted to play, which is about all I could squeeze out of my energy.
Details aside, the trip was awesome, and the most touching parts were the attachment built by the kids to us, and to see how they appreciated us giving them attention. To see at least some of their needs met, not only by the things passed out, but also by the attention we gave them; especially the two of us men. God used us even though we were broke, even though we ran out of energy half way through and could no longer play with them that much.
As we prepared to leave, all the kids started to cry, which cut to my heart. I was too tired to cry, but my heart went out to those which I had developed a strong bond with. They were beautiful.

1 comment:

Jennifer D. said...

Cool experiences that you may never get to have again!!