"Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world."
JAMES 1:27
What a rough final day or two with the precious children at Karosta Day Center. I found myself saying good-bye to children Friday evening and again to more, Saturday night, knowing that I would be heading to Riga this morning. My heart is heavy and burdened knowing just how vast the need is.
I have spent the last five days building relationships and loving these children. Their eyes tell stories...but to hear them spoken is piercing.
Everyone just wants to be heard. They want to know that we care about them...the lives they lived...the pain they've experienced. Thursday, I found myself walking along the beach with a precious "child" and as we walked we found ourselves no longer with the group, but walking alone. I found myself taking her hands in mine as I searched her face long and tried to honor her, by listening. She wanted to tell her story. Why, to me? Because her story hurts deeper than the wounds that have been left, and she wanted someone to share it with. After all, don’t we all long to be heard? To be accepted? To be loved?
As I listened to her story, I heard her heart...her pain stricken heart. I listened long...and not just to her, but to many children this week. And as I looked into their eyes, I not only saw pain but HIS face.
After listening to them pour out their hearts, I was left with few words, as my eyes swelled with tears. I found myself telling them, “I hear you. I understand you. And better, Jesus understands you. He knows. I know what it feels like,” I tell them, “to wonder where He is. To wonder if He sees and how could this be the good and perfect plan, because you know, it looks pretty ugly right now. It is ugly! But I also know that I can trust Him anyway because I would have never put my child on the cross and He did that. He did that for me and for you. And because of what He’s done, I trust Him with all that He is yet to do.”
And while my head spins, "where is God in this mess," my heart knows the answer, "right here." God is right here with these children. And He knows. And that love and knowledge that He knows, is what we live on every day.
After listening to them pour out their hearts, I was left with few words, as my eyes swelled with tears. I found myself telling them, “I hear you. I understand you. And better, Jesus understands you. He knows. I know what it feels like,” I tell them, “to wonder where He is. To wonder if He sees and how could this be the good and perfect plan, because you know, it looks pretty ugly right now. It is ugly! But I also know that I can trust Him anyway because I would have never put my child on the cross and He did that. He did that for me and for you. And because of what He’s done, I trust Him with all that He is yet to do.”
And while my head spins, "where is God in this mess," my heart knows the answer, "right here." God is right here with these children. And He knows. And that love and knowledge that He knows, is what we live on every day.
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