The rain is falling harder than normal, creating a roaring static over our heads. We had to move the beds to avoid the new drip that formed above one of the children. Jokes about bed wetting ensued. But now we are sitting in the dark like so many nights before. So many nights. Where did they go?
We aren't saying anything. I can't think of anything I even want to say. The silence has become comfortable...one kid with his head on my stomach and another with his hand in mine. How many times have I sat like this, so content? Not enough to make it feel common. Not enough to make me ready to leave. But right now I don't have to. Right now I can just sit here and hold his hand and stroke his hair and pray. And pray..."Father, love these children after I leave, after I forget. Draw them to Yourself and give them life and joy unimaginable. Heal them, Father, and help them heal others. Love them. Love them. Love them. Guide their paths and mend their wounded souls. Be their everything. Oh Father love them please! Thank You...amen." I still feel restless, like there has to be something else I can do to, I don't know, fix them? What am I doing here, anyway? Leaving. I'm leaving. I feel so inadequate. But that's nothing new, I knew I was inadequate when I came here. I guess I never expected to be so correct. So stupidly correct. I tell them I should go, stand up and tuck in the kids who are still awake. Hugs and kisses and one gentle slap to my face. I love that kid.
I step into the hallway, so very aware that I can only do this one more time. I make it to the front door and stop. Rain. I watch as a million glittering sparks dance in the pale lamplight. It's beautiful...and I'm sad. I don't cry much anymore. It's been six years or something, I don't know, and...and I just can't right now. I feel like a part of me is being torn apart as I stand here, but...nothing is happening. I imagine I'll make it through tomorrow just fine, board the plane and go on with my life. My happy little orphan-free life. It's tragic in a way my body has forgotten how to express. So I step into the night and let the rain cry for me.
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Well, there is more rain in Atlanta because of our tears from reading this. Matt, you are a wonderful writer. As I was reading this,it made me think of the disciples and how they felt when Jesus left. Obviously their experience was more dramatic because of the circumstances and they probably didn't think Jesus chose to leave, but in reality, He did. He knew when He came that He was leaving...that it was part of the plan. I wonder about those last nights together...their talks...did He embrace them and express His love...I'm sure He did, and I'm sure He felt sad knowing He was about to leave them physically, but how thankful I am that He came and spent those days on earth! I know you all are not Jesus but you represent Him and you've been like Him this summer as you have given yourselves to these needy children and loved them. We are praying for your last day and night at Casa Bernabe, for your hearts as you pull away from people you have grown to love. Your lives are so much richer for it, and Heaven will be that much sweeter.
ReplyDelete~Mrs. Tuttle
You all have been on my mind & heart so much today. I've been praying so much for the children, & for you all. As you leave, just remember God loves these children even more than you all have grown to love them. I pray that the God of peace will give you a peace in your heart that surpasses all understanding as you entrust them into His care. Thank you for going to them this summer, and for sharing it with us on your blog.
ReplyDeleteIn Christ,
Denise (Lauren harlow's mom)