Sick days

I think I have finally pinpointed the hardest part of this whole adventure for me: the kids can't have sick days. When I was little and would get sick, my mom would bring my pillow and blanket to the couch, tuck me in and watch a movie with me. She'd make me soup and bring me juice or ginger ale, and spoil me until I felt better.

Last week, one of my boys had a stomach bug with a fever... all I could do was give him Tums for his belly, Motrin for his fever, and a hug before sending him back with the other kids. When I went to check on him I found him sleeping in the shade because he was too sick to play with his friends.

Yesterday I noticed one of the boys who is particularly outgoing was strangely quiet... I felt his forehead and took his temperature and wouldn't you know, he had a fever. This morning he woke up with his face swollen, and I took him to the clinic to find out that he has an infection in his mouth. He was given Motrin and an antibiotic, and sent back to the house. I wished so badly I could tuck him into bed and let him watch a movie... but instead I had to send him to play with the other boys outside. He managed a half a smile (with the normal-sized side of his face) when I told him I would see him later, but I know he is in pain.

 I know these kids don't know the American life of being able to take a sick day, and so they don't even realize what they are missing. But after multiple days of taking care of sick children here, it still breaks my heart the same to see them sick or in pain and unable to rest in a comfortable bed. Don't get me wrong... these kids are very blessed. They receive three meals a day, clean clothes and a bed to sleep in. They never go without their needs being met here. Every child is hugged, and they know that they are loved by the staff and volunteers.

 The difference is that an orphanage's standard for care, and my standard for care are not the same. And that has been one of the most challenging things for me in the past 3 months... learning that my expectations for how these kids should be cared for is not realistic for here. Because my expectations, my standard, is coming from living in a family of 5, with a mom and a dad and a large home where we all had our own bed. Here, the kids live in a family of 600.

 In my boys house, there are 4 girls who help out between the ages of 16-22. There is myself, another volunteer, and 2 male staff members. I shared my mom and dad with 2 brothers. My boys have to share their 8 parental figures with 56 brothers. Maybe 8 sounds like a lot, because we are in an orphanage of 600 kids. I mean that's a 7:1 ratio right? But it's not enough. The kids are provided for, they are loved. But if I could have one thing in this life it would be that each and every one of these kids could experience the love of a real family.

And that's when I have to remind myself that they can.The book of Psalms is filled with promises for my boys. Psalm 68:5 tells them that God is a Father to the fatherless.  "He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds" (Psalm 147:3).The Lord has promised my boys that even though their father and mother have forsaken them, He will take them in (Psalm 27:10). Jesus has spoken the words "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you" (John 14:8).  And so even though I may worry about Efrain, and Jose Miguel, and Cristian Josue. Even though I am human and I feel that Erik and Roy and Fernando don't have enough, that they aren't cared for the way I was as a 9 year old... God's love and care for these boys, for all the kids at Emmanuel, and for every child in this world, is sufficient.

Proverbs 18:10 says "the name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous runs into it and is safe." All I can picture when I read that promise is all 57 of my boys running and leaping into God's arm for a hug... and every single one of them fitting. Every single one of them receiving the same amount of love, the same amount of hugs, the same care, as I do. On this earth, our lives may be different. It may not be "fair." But this life is not what matters. It is short... eternity is not. And so all I really need to be focusing on while I am here, is showing these boys the love of our Father in Heaven... so that someday, we can all be with Him together, as one family.