I could describe dinner at the orphanage like this: we fix at least twenty plates of food and each child walks up to the counter, grabs his or plate quietly, grabs a fork and a spoon, and sits down at a table patiently waiting for everyone to sit down before someone says the prayer. Nobody tries to eat their food before the prayer and they sit still in their chairs. I could describe it like that, but that would be boring and you wouldn't get the whole picture of what mealtime is really like at the orphanage. Don't forget...these are children. I don't know many children who would behave like that. Instead, meal time is slightly chaotic but that's why it's so interesting to me. We fix about twenty or so plates of rice and whatever meat or vegetable goes with it, we fish out 20 or so forks and spoons and pile the plates onto the counter, always making room for just one more. The kitchen bell rings and the children flood into the dining hall. We are constantly reminding the children to wash their hands, not to feed the dog, and not to eat before the prayer. Some sit down impatiently waiting(some even sneak a bite to eat) and then we pray. As soon as "amen" is heard, the children snatch up their fork and spoon and dig in. It's like a huge family dinner. We trade and share food and we all eat until we're full. Meal times are always an adventure. It's normal.
It's hard for me to believe that we've already been in the country for almost a month. Some days at the orphanage seem routine when I think about a week as a whole, but there is always something that makes each day unique. It may be that a child does something extra sweet or extra funny or we may have one of my favorite meals throughout the day. Whatever it is, God continues to provide and He continues to lift me up and encourage me even when I'm exhausted. In a conversation I had with my mom(who is definitely my biggest cheerleader in life), I told her how homesick I was this summer. As only a mom can do, she reminded me of why I'm here. She reminded me that if I were home I would have to pull weeds, cut the grass, and help birth Yorkie puppies. She knows me well enough to know that reminding me of those things I'm missing would cheer me up. Most importantly, she reminded me of the big reasons: the blessings, the stories, the memories, and the one she hit right on the head: if I were at home, I would be wishing I was back here. That's so true. Aren't moms just wonderful?
I've had a lot of time to think while I've been here and I've thought a lot about how much God has grown me as a person. I am 21 years old and this trip has reminded me of that, and even at times made me feel older than I really am. In the school, I've already perfected my "teacher look" and with the children doing their chores I've mastered the "because-I-said-so" mom voice. My team members joke with me saying I'm old because I occasionally drink coffee at 5 in the evening while I read a book. It's just strange when I think about going back to school in the fall and being a senior in college. Time definitely goes by quick.
There have been many things that I have had to realize or get used to this summer. It's now a normal routine to squish the ants in my bed before getting in at night and I know to watch for mice when I get up at night to use the bathroom. When a geiko scurries along the wall above my head, I don't even flinch. I'm used to flushing the toilet with a dipper of water and I'm used to tucking my mosquito net tightly before going to sleep at night. Waking up at 5am really doesn't phase me, even though at home I would be a zombie if I had to be up that early. Sleeping in until 6 is a treat for us. I've come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as clean feet while I'm here and I will always get black grease all over my arms when I have kitchen duty. As for the children, I now know which ones are going to play the practical jokes, which ones will leave their fork and spoon in the wash bucket after every meal. I know which child will call me the wrong name three or four times and which one will look at me confused when I talk too fast. I can recognize which child is coming around the corner just by his or her laugh or sometimes even his or her footsteps. I know which child will eat the food I don't want and who will ask the same 20 questions during dinner. I know that means we're a family.
Friday afternoon was a beautiful picture of God at work. We went to a home for our weekly ministry, "You Got Served." Most of our home visits involve about 3 or 4 families piled up in a small house reading God's word, praying, and fellowshipping with each other. This visit was much different. We walked into the house with 2 huge loaves of banana bread but only one woman and her two young sons were in the house. We asked our translator what was going on in her life and she told us that her husband's job keeps him away from home often and she's worried about his safety. Tears began rolling down her face as we spoke to her through our translator and we shared scripture with her. I told her about when my dad was in Iraq and how my mom was in constant prayer for his safety. God used that circumstance for me to relate to her in some way and to encourage her. I thank God for bringing us to her and for speaking through us to give her encouragement during this difficult time.
Pictures are worth a thousand words, but because of technology I am not able to share a picture of this next moment with you just yet. This is my journal entry from the other night and I hope you can paint a picture from the words:
Moments I live for--crawling on my hands and knees with three precious children(5,6, and 8 years old) on my back. They wrap their feet around my stomach and after about two steps forward, we crash to the ground. We're all four laughing as we roll in the grass filthy, but it's nothing a quick bucket bath won't fix. It's just the four of us and I'm not thinking about how hot and sweaty I am, I'm thinking of how happy we all are. . Even though they've already worn me out, I get up quickly and chase them around the yard as they squeal and giggle. I know I'll go to bed exhausted, but I wouldn't want to go to bed any other way. I want to be used up by God because that's when I feel closest to God. That's when I can feel His presence and love more than ever. That's worth all of the grass stains, dirty feet and sore muscles any day.
I am so thankful for each day that God allows me to love on the children here at the orphanage and in the villages around us. It's such a blessing. Thank you all for your continued prayers.
Brittney
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