Before I go into talking about the whole trip, let me just write down what the highlight was for me.
The schedule for Thursday said, “Work till Lunch. 1:00 go to Orphanage”. My mind said, “you’ve got to be kidding me.” I had come to Jamaica with the expectation and intention of working and serving hard all week, something I would learn that you don’t go to mission trips for, and had thus far felt sorely disappointed. The jobs we were doing didn’t really “need” to get done. No one bothered to take a leadership role on the job sites to hand out jobs to anyone, so unless you actively sought out work or knew what you were doing with a concrete construction site, you didn’t get to work. Which for some, was just fine and dandy. They would rather get in water fights anyway. But having been raised to work like crazy and do the job well, it was hard for me to play during working hours. Besides that, it seemed that the team leaders (no offense to them, they were wonderful for what they did) had about the same mindset when it came to work as some of the kids. We were supposed to be working by 8:00 in the morning but never got out until after 9 due to singings, meetings and the like. Then everyone would quit at 11:30 to “clean up” for lunch which was an hour long affair and we usually didn’t get back to work till 1:30. Quitting time for the day was supposed to be 4:30, so we were to clean up at 4:00, but most were out of there by 3:30. I felt like nothing was getting accomplished. Can you see my frustrations. And now we were going to go play with kids for a whole afternoon!
Needless to say, I did not go to the orphanage (or Children’s Home, as we were supposed to call it) with the best attitude.
Upon arriving groups of barefoot little Jamaican kids of all ages came running to meet the bus. They looked like they were straight out of one of those charity magazines. The orphanage, though not too terrible, was pretty run down and dirty. I expected as much, however, as we huddled under a small overhang from the roof to avoid the rain and mud, I began to feel really bad for those kids and started wondering how I could bring a little sunshine to this place. We headed to the dorms where the kids slept to find more kids to play with. Basically there was a long hall with windows looking into the bedrooms on both sides. The rooms were full of bunk beds and you could tell whether it was a girls or boys room based off of matching sheets and blankets on each bed. People from our group were going into the rooms and picking up rambunctious kids to go play in the yard with. The overall atmosphere was not sober, but excitement. For a while I stayed in the hall, not quite knowing what to do when I saw a room full of cribs. Curious, I went in and saw in the first crib, a little baby boy fast asleep. A sound from another crib drew me too it. I peered over the edge to see the most precious little Jamaican baby. He was probably three months old, but very small. His big brown eyes were bright and curious as he looked around the room and stared at me. They boasted the longest curliest eyelashes that at first I mistook him for a girl. His mouth was constantly moving as he chatted away, laughed, and smiled when I reached down to offer a finger to hold. He looked so perfect all except one thing: His right leg was completely covered in a hard cast. Right away it looked wrong. Something about the way it was placed seemed all twisted funny so I asked the chiropractor on the trip and he said this kid will probably never walk. Feeling sick about knowing this I leaned over the crib wall and played with him. I was dieing to pick him up, but I didn’t know if there were rules against that. Then Thayer, a guy from our group that has been here several times before came into the room and picked up the other baby. That’s enough for me! I thought and reached down to hold this precious little baby. It was a little awkward at first to manuever his casted leg, but I soon figured it out. As I cuddled him against me and talked to him my mind kept saying, That’s it, I’m never going to leave. I’m going to either stay here forever or take him with me.
As perfect as these babies were, the stench that emanated from them was almost unbearable. Their diapers were obviously full and their clothes were pretty dirty. Well, good old Thayer, in all his boldness decides that we are going to change them. The diapers were not easy to find, and we never did locate wipes so with a wet washcloth and the help of some of the other team members, Thayer changed the diapers like a pro. It was only until later that I learned he had never changed a poopy diaper before. And, yes, they were poopy. But not fresh poop. By the way some of it was dry, I’d say they hadn’t been changed in at least a day.
Well, after being cleaned the baby that Thayer held woke up fully and was looking around the room with wide eyes. Mine grabbed at my shirt and began to fall asleep. As we played and rocked them a staff member came into the room with a toddler on each hip and another one trailing at her skirts. She is moving a hundred miles per hour as she tosses both the toddlers into cribs and bustles around the room. Of course, both toddlers start crying and I wondered if it was from the rough handling or the need for attention. The staff lady then makes two bottles, hands them to us and orders in a thick Jamaican accent to feed the babies. I knew we were getting low on time, but the more I thought about the more I wanted to just help this lady out and give my baby more TLC. They eagerly sucked at the orangey juice that she had made (not milk). As the feeding went on mine made sure I wasn’t leaving without some souvenir and he spit up all over my arm and skirt. I didn’t even care though, he was just too precious. As we finished up the feeding, some of the older kids came running in the room exclaiming,”the bus is leaving you! They are all leaving you!” We couldn’t do anything though, the staff lady had disappeared. It didn’t take long, though, to set the bottles aside and rock the babies asleep and settle them into their cribs. I probably kissed him good bye at least three times. Finally one of the team leaders came into the room to tell us it is time to go, now. It was so hard to tear myself away.
We came back to the Deaf Village and had about an hour of free time to kill before supper. I hadn’t done my prayer time yet that day and decide to climb onto the roof of a shed. The view up there is almost 360 and it’s beautiful.
(that’s the shed in the background)
Anyway, as I’m trying to pray for the team and this trip, my mind kept going back to that baby boy. I kept picturing his face and kept thinking I have to go back. I have to make sure he’s going to be ok for the night. Tears came uncontrollably as I prayed, why God. Why was I born with perfect parents, a nice house, money to spare, when this baby has nothing. No parents, no house or money. He doesn’t even have much of a future. And here I live so selfishly. I spend most of my days running from one fun thing to another. I work to earn money for myself. I go to school to improve my own future. And I even think so highly of myself sometimes, like I’ve had anything to do with having it so easy. If only I could just go back to that orphanage and hold him a little longer so he can have that warmth of human interaction. God, I know I’ll probably never see him again, so Jesus, please be with him. Be in that room tonight and watch him as he sleeps so nothing happens to him. Make sure he is warm enough and that his leg doesn’t hurt him. Jesus talk to him so he isn’t lonely. And, please be with him in the future. Help him to one day walk, and if he doesn’t, don’t let other kids make fun of him. Help someone who is really nice to adopt him to give him the love he will need. And, Jesus, I pray that you will send lights in his life so that when he is old enough to know better he will know to turn to you. As I prayed all this I began to think, What if I could do something for him. Or at least babies like him. Babies like Baby Hope down in Haiti. What if I based my life on helping those orphans….but, no, that’s not for me. That’s for those radical Christians who will do anything for the Lord. And even if I wanted to, it would be so scary and hard. So I sat up on that roof and cried for the better part of the evening for him, and all the other babies out there that life is just not fair for. I’m thankful for David for coming to talk to me. I know it was awkward for him to try to soothe this emotional crying girl, especially since he probably didn’t understand what the big deal was. But he tried none the less, and I needed someone to try at least at that time.
So, later I opened my Bible for my daily devotions. I hadn’t really been following any sort of plan or pattern, just whatever opened that day I would read. And today James 1 opened up and verse 27 grabbed at me:
"Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.”
I thought to myself, it’s a coincidence, I read this chapter a lot. It would be too hard for me to make a ministry for orphans. Then I opened to Isaiah 41 and noticed verse 10:
“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”
Whoa, that’s pretty encouraging. But I’m not so sure there is a real need for me in that and besides, it would be hard not to get proud of myself, I thought, then I read verses 17-20:
“The poor and needy seek water, but there is none, their tongues fail for thirst. I, the Lord, will hear them; I, the God of Isreal, will not forsake them…That they may see and know, and consider and understand together, that the hand of the Lord has done this, and the Holy One of Isreal has created it.”
So, those are the verses I remember, but there were many more. Actually, every time I opened my Bible for the rest of the week, there was something that seemed to be saying, Rebekah, you are being called to help the orphans. DO IT! And that’s what I’ve been praying about ever since. Obviously at this point I’m not in any kind of position to take on such a huge ministry what with school and all, but I’m praying and keeping my ears open. I have no idea where God wants to take me with this, I just know that if I don’t move forward with it, I’d be defying him and that would be a sin.
