Christ like love

Christ like love is one of the things that I strive for everyday, but fail to reach most of the time.  It's a hard thing, this kind of love.  How hard?  Lay down your life kind of hard.  Jesus literally gave His life for us.  Now this isn't exactly what Jesus asks us to do, it may be, but for most of us in everyday live, it something a little different.  The kind of love I'm talking about means laying down your life moment by moment for those God has put in your life.  Each moment, He is asking us to serve Him or serve ourselves by doing what our flesh desires.

Loving like Christ is hard.  It means putting the needs of others above the your own needs.  This is a completely inhuman thing to do. We were made to serve ourselves, and some would argue that everything we do has some benefit or motive that will serve us.  But I disagree.  I have seen this kind of love in action, and it one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

This past week, one of my friends lost someone they loved very much, and the Christ like love I witnessed in response reminded me that there is Hope in good times and bad.  I got to watch as people who love this girl dropped everything.  They laid down their lives to support and love exactly like Christ did.

This is exactly what Jesus was calling us to do in the Cross.  He bears our burdens, but He also asks us to lay down our lives and take up the burdens of those around us.  He asks us to forget ourselves and imitate Him.  He breaks our hearts for those suffering on this earth so that we may feel the pain and love He feels.  In the darkness that surrounds these burdens, there is pure love.  This love is one of our highest callings.

twirling

Tonight, as we got ready to go get our annual picture with santa, I caught my littlest sister Catherine in a room all by herself twirling.  She was in her new beautiful christmas dress, and she felt beautiful.

When she saw me watching, she stopped twirling, embarrassed.  But I got my camera and eventually convinced her to twirl for some pictures.  As a watched her, I realized just how lucky she is.  How lucky I am.

To have someone to rejoice in the small things with you.  Someone to take pictures of twirling.  Someone to buy you a new Christmas dress.  That is something that more than 147 million children in this world do not have.

We have been blessed with parents that have shown us Jesus' love.  So many have not.

to love and be loved

I follow a blog called No Greater Joy Mom.  I don't know when I started reading this blog, but I know why.  She's mom to two beautiful babies that just happen to have down syndrome.  I've always loved her posts because I can see how much having family that loves instead of putts down, and that cares instead of ignores, can make a difference.

Last night, I was reading one of her posts and it hit me like a rock.  I miss my babies in Peru.  I miss them all, but especially one in particular.  Naylee.  Why do babies with down syndrom catch at my heart?  I don't know, I guess it's just the way God made me.

Between the first time I visited Naylee and the second, she grew so much.  When I went back she was starting to try to mimic words, played games, and even more energetic than before.  But, she was also being tied down more than ever.  Her strength and size (the strength and size of a 6 year old without down syndrome), was too much for the nurses.

I found out,after playing with her, that she does get tired.  She is so energetic and hard to handle because she dosen't get to get rid of her energy. I would be bouncing off the walls too if I didn't get to get out of my chair all day.  It broke my heart then and it still does now, that the best gifts God gave her, her energy and love of life, are the reasons she is being held captive in a car seat.  I can remember the anger I felt when I walked in her room and she was tied into her chair and then to a leg of a table so she couldn't tip the chair over as she tried to get out.  Or the time that I walked in the room from taking another baby outside to play and the mom was trying to tie her into her chair by her waist and her neck.  Those were the times that I had to leave the room.  I couldn't watch without doing something, and I couldn't do anything if I wanted to be able to come back and love on her.  There's a very fine balance between what we can do in the orphanages and what we can't.  We cannot be disrespectful or the director will not let us come back, because the moms will tell him we were making trouble.

After a few days, Naylee started to remember me.  She is so smart; she even started to learn my name. We would play games on day, and when I wold come back, she would want to play the same games; placing my hands over my eyes so we would play hide and seek.  After a few days of playing with her, she started to let me hold her.  She doesn't let anybody hold her; but that's only because they don't take the time to love her.  She would sit in my lap for a hour just letting me scratch her back and rock her.  She loved to be loved.

I was trying to read a book for my book club earlier today, but all I could think about was little Naylee. It completely blows my mind sometimes that she is over there doing her thing and I'm here doing mine.  It is so easy to forget.  But then God reminds me.  She is over there, probably in her chair, just waiting for someone to come through the door and play with her.  My worries and problems seen so frivolous when I think about hers.  She simply needs to be loved.

Another blog, Loving the Least of These, had a beautiful post today about being burdened.  God has burdened my heart with a love for those babies.  Sometimes it feels like too much, like today. Sometimes I just want to forget it all.  But then, what would be my purpose?  Sure, it is easier to forget, but is that love?  Can I love if I don't feel the burden of those who need?

So, when the days seem to drag on with memories of hugs and kisses from those babies, I'm still thankful.  Thankful that I know about it and then God has burdened my heart with the need to love in His name.

He gave them us

All those people suffering out there.  All the children without someone to love them.  The homeless without anybody to listen to them.  The elderly without family.  The sick without anybody to care for them.  You get the picture.

They are told God loves them, which He does!  But how are they going to know that love? I know of God's love from others.  From my parents as a baby, teachers growing up, friends, strangers.  How are they supposed to know God's love when they are surrounded by such suffering?  Us.  God gave them us.

We must show them His love if they are ever to know it.

Not just a one time thing.  Everyday.  Jesus took our sins as his burden.  Their burden must be ours as ours is His.  Taking up their burden so they may know the love of Jesus.  Striving everyday to become more like Jesus, to become smaller.  Less me, more Him.  He became so small that He literally allowed Himself to be eaten.  Can I become that small?  To be eaten by others?  To take up their burdens so they may know Christ?

"If you want a love message to be heard, it has got to be sent out.  To keep a lamp burning, we have to keep putting oil in it." - Mother Teresa

happiness

Today, as I walked through Pachacutec, someone called my name in a very cute Peruvian accent.  One of the third graders I taught today I wondered?  I turned around towards the voice and got a huge hug.  Not from one of my third graders though, from one of my SIXTH GRADERS.  Do you remember them?  No, let me refresh your memory...

This is the class that I was able to sponsor with the donations you all gave me.  That money is still effecting people today.  The love it helped to spread means so much.

My mind was blown and my day was made after that short conversation. I had no idea that any of the sixth graders would remember me seven months later.  I know that I stand out, being about one of ten while people in almost the whole of Pachacutec.  But still, volunteers come and go pretty frequently.  

I was very happy after this conversation.  

This afternoon, after we got home from Pachacutec and ate lunch, Katie and I went to the new orphanage Divino Jesus.  This orphanage is the new home of all the babies from San Antonio.  

This orphanage makes me happy also.  Yesterday was the first time we were allowed to visit this orphanage, and it is very different than the one they were in before.  At Divine Jesus, there are 5-8 children in each room with one mom to a room.  The moms seem much happier here, and this translates into better care for the kids.  

My kids yesterday were allowed to play with their toys all day; we even colored!  Having 6 children versus 15 children in one room makes a huge difference as to what you can do with them.  Today, when we went back, Katie and I walked into the huge courtyard and found them all playing outside!  In all four months I was at San Antionio's, I probably played outside with those babies no more than 15 days.  Today, all of the kids were out together, and the moms were playing with them.  They were getting to be little kids; running and screaming and laughing.  I was happy when I left there today.

Happy for the first time ever leaving an orphanage.  But happiness must be a relative thing, because even through they are better off, they are still missing so many things they deserve.  Parents to worry about tucking them in bed, about wether they have eaten enough, about their cough and runny nose, and about the bump on their head.  The small things that mean the most, the untangle things.  Those are the things that matter the most.  I was happy today.  But still, I was sad.  

Once you meet these kids who have no one; once you hold their hand and kiss their bellies, you can't fully heal your heart.  Your heart is broken the moment you let yourself love them.  After knowing their pain and longing for love, you can't be completely happy again.  This is the way I would have it though. I wouldn't ever change it.  Because we are told:

"I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!" - Matthew 25:40

Jesus dies for me, the least I can do for Him is continue to love with a break in my heart.

not babies anymore

Today was a great day.  I spent the morning at San Antonio's playing with my little baby boys.  I realized is that their not really babies anymore.  I wish I was allowed to take pictures so you could see how much they have grown.  But it's not just growing physically, they are growing up.

The last time I was in this room, no one could talk.  They hadn't learned to count, or point to parts on their body.  They couldn't play a real game like rolling a ball, and they most definitely couldn't listen.  Had you walked in their little room last summer, you would have found me with five babies sitting in my lap.  If you had walked in today, you would have found five children sitting in a circle on the floor rolling the ball around.

I was truly amazed today as I realized how much they have grown up.  My baby Joni had a conversation with me today.  We didn't talk about anything awesome, but we talked.  I see the growth in him the most.  Probably because I spent the most time with him last time.  He used to be shy, tentative, and clingy.  Today, he is outgoing, he laughs all the time, and he is so sweet.

He has blossomed over the last six months.  My one wish for him and all the others is that they stay as innocent and sweet as they are now.  I've worked in the room that they will go to next, those kids can be mean.  Not because they are mean kids, but because that is the room where they start to not get as much attention.  In the baby rooms, there are two sometime three moms.  In the older rooms there is only one mom.  She struggles to just get them up, fed, dressed, and ready for school.  There is no time for love in that room.

Even though these babies don't have anybody to guide them into childhood, they are learning.

I was reminded today that there is hope. I hope that they will learn to love even though there is no one showing them how to.  I hope that in time they will learn how special they are.  I hope they feel wanted.  I hope they will lean of God's great love for them even though there is no one to tell them.

the hard things

I got to feed a seven day old today at San Antonio's.  As I was feeding her a bottle, with all the noise and chaos of at least 12 other babies under one year old crying and talking, she fell asleep. When the nurse told me to wake her up, make her finish her bottle, and put her back to bed, it hit me how different her childhood already is than a baby with parents.

Seven days old is not old.  If she were with her mom and dad, her life would not look like it does.  Instead of waking up to 12 other babies crying, she would wake up to a beautiful room prepared just for her.  At her first cry, her mom would come in a pick her up.  These babies are not allowed to be picked up unless they are being fed , changed, or bathed.  The theory is picking them up when they cry only makes them used to being held and will make them cry more.  They have to learn, even at the young age of seven days, to be strong.  After coming to pick her up because she is crying, her mom would change her diaper.  These babies get their diaper changed only a few times everyday, it dosen't really matter if they have a dirty diaper.  After getting a clean diaper the mother would feed her baby. She would rock her and feed her, singing songs only meant for her baby.  If she fell asleep, that would be ok; she's only seven days old.  Her mom would look at her, in awe of this tiny miracle.  My seven day old miracle has no one to sing to her, and no one to gaze at her and wonder at the miracle she is.

This seven day old is already learning hard life lessons that no one of any age should be made to learn.  She is learning that she is not special, she is not wanted, and she is not loved beyond all measure.  You may think that this is a little harsh to be saying, but it's not.  Think, where is it that we learn those messages?  Our dads are the ones who first tell us we are beautiful and that they will love us unconditionally.  They show us first so we can know the Lord's love for us later on, that He thinks we are beautiful no matter what we look like.  Our moms tell us we are wanted from day one.  They hold us day in and day out, never letting us our of their sight until they absolutely have to.

Why does this seven day old have to learn these hard things, why can she not be normal?  Why is it?

round two

I’m going back to Peru! I think this blog was a really great way to keep in touch with everyone back home the last time I went, so I’m going to use it again.  Although I’m paying my own way this time (working for a semester paid off, literally), I never would be in any position to do this if it weren’t for everyone who sent me last August. I feel like you all deserve to be shown what is going on down there, since it is because of you I am there again.

Since being home, the reality of my life has really sunk in. I have a great life.  I may be paying more than ever for food and gas right now, but my standard of living is higher than many many many people in the world. This is one of the reasons I’m returning to Peru.  Seeing all the blessings the Lord has given me, I’ve had to ask myself, why does he give them?  Why am I here on this earth? What is my purpose?  I think it is a question many ask, and a natural question for people my age.

What is my purpose?  The best answer I’ve come up with so far is simple, love.  I was made out of love by God. He gives me everything out of love. He gives, so I may love others in His name.  Nothing that I have is mine to store up, it is all His. His that he has blessed me with so that I may, in turn, give.

I have no reason to keep the things He has given me. These things will not get me to my ultimate goal: Heaven. Giving will. The more I give, the more I learn to love. 

I’ve been asked by a few people why go back?  Why not go somewhere else? Truthfully there is no simple answer.  I love Peru.  I love those babies, I love the girls I worked with in the girl’s home, I love the kids I taught.  It’s not so much about the places I will see, but about the relationships I will build.  Those kids don’t have anyone to hug them and show them God’s love 99% of the day. 

How can I not fall in love with these faces?

These are the faces of Christ.  This is Christ, who has had no one to tuck him safely in at night; he get to cry themselves to sleep. This is Christ, who has no one to make sure his belly is full; he goes hungry if he doesn’t eat all of his meal at mealtime. This is Christ, who has no one to hug him when he falls over or kiss his knee when he scrapes it.  This is Christ, who has never been told he is special, that he is loved unconditionally, that he is worth something. 

How can I not go? 

When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him.

And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

 Then the king will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.'

Then the righteous will answer him and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?'

And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.'