I knew going into my time here at Beautiful Gate that not everything would be easy. I wasn't so naive to assume that the life of a missionary is a piece of cake. In fact, when missionaries my churches support would come to visit to update us on their lives and work I heard time and time again that there were challenges and difficulties alongside the blessings and successes. Even being as sure as I was that Beautiful Gate Lesotho was exactly where God wanted me to come, I knew better than to think doing God's work meant life would be easy. God calls His people to suffer from time to time, after all. So over the past couple months I've been somewhat surprised at just how easy life has been. From the moment I stepped off the plane Lesotho has had a sense of home to it. People at Beautiful Gate, church, and other missionary organizations have gone out of their way to be friendly to me and make me feel welcome. I've even noticed a new boldness in myself when it comes to meeting new people and trying new things. I'm slowly picking up bits and pieces of Sesotho. The Basotho employees at BG are extremely gracious as I learn the language, helping to teach me new words and phrases every day and celebrating when I successfully complete an exchange as simple as "How are you?" I knew I'd love working with the BG kids, but even that has proven to be an easier transition than I expected. I assumed it would take a few weeks for the kids to get used to me and for me to get used to them. The moment I stepped into Khotso 1 on my first day, though, I had several kiddos clinging to my legs, begging to be loved. Don't get me wrong, the kids like to test boundaries and push my buttons and by the end of the week I can be pretty drained, but all things considered, my transition from life in the States to life in Africa has been smooth and, dare I say, relatively easy!
When I signed up to work at an orphanage for a year I expected it to be an emotional job. I mean, I work with kids who have no home and, generally, no family. Those who do have family aren't with them because the family can't take care of them or just doesn't want them. It's heartbreaking. I look into the eyes of the kids in my house, listen to them laugh hysterically, hold them when they're crying or tired, and I think who in the world wouldn't want the opportunity to love this beautiful child. I pray over and over again that God will bring healing to their lives, that they would know they are precious and chosen and are princes and princesses - sons and daughters of The King. I pray that God uses me to love them in such a way that there is no doubt in their mind that their Father loves them too. Ultimately, I pray that God will bring along a family who will do what I do every day. I pray that a mommy and a daddy will be moved to adopt from a tiny country in the south of Africa that many people have never heard of. I pray they will come after spending an insane amount of money and waiting an unbearable amount of time and, when they look into the eyes of a child God has chosen for them, they will fall in love. I pray these kids find their forever families, whether they are adopted or reunited with their birth families. While all of this can be emotionally draining, for me it's not the hard part. This is what God has called me here and specifically equipped me to do. I never would have fathomed that the hard part would be when God started answering my prayers for these kids.
The only thing we can every really count on is change. Over the past few weeks there has been a lot of change on the BG campus and I'm realizing that it's going to be one of my greatest struggles as a missionary. Before I arrived, I've been told, Khotso 1 (my assigned house) has been one of the more stagnant houses in terms of children being adopted or reunited. Apparently it's been several months since any kids from my house have found their forever families. Heartbreaking, I know. But God loves His children. In the past two weeks or so three of the beautiful kids from my house have been either adopted or reunited. One of them was one of the oldest boys in my house. He was my big helper. He helped me to keep the little kids under control when the Bo-Mme were busy working. He translated what the younger children were saying to me when I was at a loss. He helped me find things around the house when I had no idea where to even begin looking. A couple weeks ago he was adopted by a family the BG community knows well and loves very much. They live locally and I'm thankful I'll still get to see this guy from time to time. Another one of the kids to leave was a little baby girl who I considered "my baby." She is absolutely beautiful. She smiled whenever I walked in the room. She loved to suck on my finger as long as I'd let her. The only time I ever heard her cry was when I'd been holding her for a while and I tried to put her back in her crib (woops!). About a week and a half ago I got to witness her being reunited with her family. Unfortunately her mother passed away shortly after giving birth, but her aunt came to get her as soon as she discovered this precious little girl existed. Seeing the tears of joy this auntie cried when she saw this little gift of a girl for the first time was enough to make me cry as well. I think that must be a reflection of how God feels when He looks at us.
The hardest part of working at an orphanage for me is the coming and going. Perhaps I should have anticipated this considering the whole point is to care for the kids on an interim basis until they can become a part of their forever families. Silly of me, really, not to have realized this, but these kiddos have a way of crawling into those spaces of your heart that make you love them as if they're your own. And they don't leave. They stay there. It makes seeing them leave a bittersweet affair. I've gotten to know them, care for them, and love them and then I just have to say goodbye. I'll probably never see them again. Many of them probably won't remember who I am when they get older. "But that's not the point!" I have to remind myself. As difficult as it is to see them go I find joy and take comfort in the fact that God is answering the prayers of His people. He sees these children and loves them even more than I do. He knows what's best for them and He's going to provide for them. The joy I experience when I remember that far outweighs any sadness I feel at seeing one of my kids go. It's something I pray I remember well in the next several weeks. In addition to the three kids who've left my house recently there are five more who are scheduled to be adopted, reunited, or moved soon. I love them dearly, but I know I can't love them nearly as much or as well as their families will. I'll just have to be content with the time God's given me with them.
