My last day at BG was full of so many emotions. There was the goodbye ceremony, which is always hard for me. The staff are given a time to speak and to hear how much they love and appreciate me is very overwhelming. Then there was the celebration lunch which included great conversation and delicious food served from the back of a car. The afternoon was full of serving the team that was there as well as soaking in every second I could with the kids. I sat on the garden and snuggled with two of "my" boys. It was a very special time with them. As we were sitting there laughing and enjoying each other, one of them looked right into my eyes and said, "I love you soooo much." My heart leaped with joy and sorrow. I hurt knowing that these little guys would not be sitting on my lap the next day and that my arms would feel so empty, but I also knew that God was speaking through him to say, your life will be different, but it doesn't matter, I love you so much. There was peace in that moment. Peace in the stillness of saying goodbye.
One to the traditions at BG is whenever a volunteer leaves, all the other volunteers share a meal. Before we all left for dinner, I went through all the houses to give the kids a goodnight kiss and hug. While in one house I was spending a little extra time with one of our oldest boys. He and I had a special relationship. Because he was older, the social worker asked me to take him on random trips to town, to just expose him to grocery stores and the outside world. Through these trips, his trust for me grew immensely. As he was sitting on my lap and we were talking about cars, his house mother walked through the room and told him I would be leaving the next day. His looked changed. His eyes filled with tears and his face dropped. I started telling him how much Jesus loved him and how much he was loved at BG. He then looked deep into my eyes and said, "Please, I go to America with you. Please." My heart sank for many reasons. First the Basotho culture rarely says please. They don't have a word that directly translates to it. I have been working on it with him and some of the other kids. For him to use it twice in one sentence was huge. Our time together had weight. Then my heart broke because I know how badly he wants a family. He is older and because of this he goes to a different school than the preschoolers. He sees children and their families. He knows he is different. I wanted so badly in that moment to pick him up and take him with me. I wanted so badly to make the hole in his life filled. I wanted to fix it. But I can't. The very hard thing for me, was I couldn't even tell him that I would see him again, because I don't know. I have told that to kids before to help them and me work through my leaving, only to find they have left BG before I got back. I just couldn't give him false hope again. That night I went to dinner with the other volunteers with a heavy heart. His cry for help echoed through my mind.
I wish you could be here buddy. I really do. I know you are safe at BG and being loved so much by the staff and volunteers. I have know doubt that when I left your day didn't change. You are loved by your house mothers and special friends, but I also know how much you want a family. Keep believing, one day you will understand that you are a part of a huge family and your Abba loves you with a love that will never let you down.
There are so many children like this at BG. Kids waiting for a family. I also know that there are families all over the world who desperately want a child from Lesotho to love. Please join me in praying for both sides of adoption. Each has it's own wait. Each has it's own heartache. Each side is hard, but in the waiting there are moments when you hear God's voice and He says, "I love you so much."
If you know someone on either side of adoption, please send them a note today and let them know that there are other people waiting with them.
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