Wrecked

Working at an orphanage is hard.

As this place becomes more tangled into my life, I feel the joys and sorrows here more deeply than ever. Most experiences are bittersweet and I think appropriately so. I celebrate when kids are able to return to families that desire to love and care for them; there is also an aspect of grief as little ones I’ve watched grow up over the years will no longer be part of my life and I of theirs. My heart wells to the brim when I hear cries of “Charito!!” every morning, trying not to trip over little people scrambling to wrap their arms around me and kiss my legs; my heart also breaks as I wish no child had to live here, separated from the families they need and deserve. I can’t imagine being anywhere else in the world and most days I am grateful that God has invited me to be here, but I also grieve that the world is broken in such a way that I am needed here.

It’s an ever-going struggle to find balance in the sadness and joy, in the brokenness and the hope.

These past few months have wrecked my life. I think I feel that every time I’m here, so I won’t pretend this could be the last time, but really, these past few months have wrecked my life. Someday I might have words to articulate all that has happened and how God is making things new, but right now I’m just sitting with Jesus in the midst of a lot of raw emotion and only half-processed experiences.

All I can do is share stories as I am able, holding on to hope.