So Many Endings

The final day of our work in Romania has come and gone; our responsibilities are tied up and our bags are packed. All of our blood, sweat, and tears have been sown and now all we are left with is time and reflection. Let me tell you, after the day I had, I have a lot to reflect on.
Opening the day with another home visit was a wonderful way to begin the last day. The family we visited had six children, five of which we got to meet, and they were such a precious family. These beautiful people were trying to make everything work on their own, not wanting to burden anyone else with their needs, but God knew and provided for them through PULS. I can't think of a more deserving family than those who don't expect a handout. It was honestly a great time and I loved interacting with them.
After this, I was off to my last shift at the hospital. I must confess that after seeing almost all of the children in my room leave and having to move to another floor, I wasn't very excited about going. I had already said goodbye to all my heart's attachments and I felt a supreme disconnect with any of the other babies I had found on the new floor. Yet I knew that I had to complete what I started so I put on my 'game face' and went. When I arrived, the nurse told me that I would be in a new room today; she said it was on floor 9, genetica (genetic disorders). My heart leapt inside my chest; that was where we had spent all our time the last trip. Could it be that I will see one of the babies I know? I wondered to myself. Maybe you'll laugh when you read this but I walked behind that nurse with my eyes almost closed. I couldn't bear to look into the room windows; if I saw a baby I knew but couldn't go in, I would be devastated. So I followed silently with my head down and turned into the room after the nurse. One sweep of the room with my eyes told me there were only two occupied cribs. This should be easy, I thought. However, my eyes stopped suddenly on the face in the farthest crib; I knew this baby. Sure enough, the nurse walked me over to his crib and pointed to his name tag and I melted. It was my Sami. Basically unchanged from the previous year, his little face and big eyes were the most beautiful sight I had seen in a very long time.
Seeing Sami gave me instant flashbacks to the last trip. My mind was racing as I looked back and forth from his face to the window, lost in my thoughts. So many memories; so many scars. I flashed back to how it broke my heart to hear him try to breath through the fluid in throat. I remembered the shabby room and rough nurses. The sights, the smells, the babies crying...I could sense it all. Now here he was in a clean crib on a newly renovated hospital floor in the care of a nurse that absolutely adored him. My how things change.
My mind slowed down after a while and as I held Sami, I sang to him and loved on him with all that was in me. I felt more alive in those moments with Sami than I had that entire day. However, feeding time came around and a familiar pit formed in my stomach. I remembered all to well the feedings Sami endured last year. I cringed at the thought. Yet the nurse picked him up and began his feeding without a problem. He ate and drank without choking for nearly two or three minutes and even then, the nurse quieted him, cleaned him up, and tried again. The whole feeding was done in just a couple of minutes and left me dumbfounded as to the improvement of both Sami and this nurse. In fact, this nurse that was doting on Sami and caring for him so carefully was one of the same nurses that scarred me so badly last year. This nurse who was at one time a little hard and gruff now cared for Sami as if he were her own. I cannot tell you how much that set my heart at ease.
You know, I totally believe God knows my weakness in wanting to see results. When I left last year, I questioned if I had made a lasting impact by my work here but I was offered no answers. Now, a year and a half later, I am seeing the tangible changes that I helped to engender. It wasn't just our team but I was still involved. For the first time, I truly believed I was changing the world. God didn't have to gratify my need-to-know but He did and what He showed me revolutionized my little world. I can't think of a better way to go out. In fact, I can't think of anything better. Period.

***
To all those who have been following my blog and keeping me in prayer, I thank you! I could not be more sincere in saying that if it weren't for all of you, I very well might have crashed at several points on this trip. For all the times I was mentally overloaded or physically exhausted, it was your prayers that helped see me through. I realize that I will never know how much time and energy you have invested on my behalf but I know One who does. Great will be your reward, I can promise you that. Thank you again from the bottom of my heart!
With that, I sign off for the final time. Ciao, friends! May God bless you!

Hello, Goodbye

Another full day today means I'm full of more stories. We got to visit another family that PULS helps today and the two little girls were adorable. The oldest was three, the youngest one, and their little personalities filled the room we were in. While there, we got to hear the story about how the mother was put out onto the street at the age of three (yes, THREE) and how by the grace of God she ended up with a husband, family, and a home. The twists and turns of the story were nothing short of divinely coordinated and it was a pleasure to spend time with her and her girls as she shared with us.
After this, I went to my shift at the hospital. I arrived to hear that the smallest baby in my room got to go home earlier that day because he was well enough (Praise the Lord!) and then during my shift, the twin boys were taken to their home. I and the nurse held our breath until the ambulance returned and we knew that they had indeed made it home. In the case of Romanian orphans, if the parents, grandparents, or family relative can be located, an ambulance will deliver the child/children to the address and give the children back. If the family member isn't home, however, the children will be returned to the hospital and the whole process will have to be repeated. The ordeals can get pretty hectic as I'm sure you can picture so I was happy to hear the chaos was averted for the twins' sake.
Seeing almost all the children I worked with the last two weeks leave was bitter sweet for me. Obviously I was happy that they got to return to their homes and see their families. But I'm also skeptical; you never know which of them will return and repeat the cycle. I want to believe that they'll go home and grow up healthy and loved but that's just not a guarantee. The other part of me wishes they would have stayed because at least at the hospital, I know they will be cared for and loved by our team and the nurses. That doesn't solve the problem, though. Seeing those babies leave today made my prayers for the parents that much stronger.
Lord, please get a hold of those parents; they hold precious little treasures in their hands.

A Day Of Amazingness

What a jam-packed day of amazingness I had today! (Forgive my made-up word.) We kicked off the day with a visit to a family in the village of Calea Mare, 30 minutes outside Oradea. They were such a precious family and I enjoyed the time we spent with them. To give you a picture of how incredible they are, listen to this: They have five biological children ranging in age from 3 to 15 and decided to take in another child that had been living under a bridge, taken care of by a drug-abusing father. The family was in no place financially to afford another child; the father, due to medical reasons, cannot get hired, and the mother only works part time. However, this family has a big heart and a big faith, so they stepped out with the love of God and took in this little girl. At the time, baby Maria was 11 months old (the same age as their youngest biological child) and now is a happy, healthy three year old. Watching the care the family lavishes on little Maria is so touching and you can tell by one look into her brown eyes that she knows she is loved.
Next I made my way to the hospital where I got to play with, rock, and feed all four of the babies in my assigned room. They blessed me even more than usual today and I thank God that I have to opportunity to be here doing what I'm doing.
Then after dinner, we had the opportunity to visit Sister Maria. This woman is nothing short of incredible and is a saint with many rewards awaiting her in heaven, I am certain. She is a prayer warrior and servant, two of the most humble positions you can be in, and she challenges you spiritually just by being in her presence. Her heart runs deep and her love for God is a mighty torrent flowing out of her in every way - her smile, her eyes, her words, her actions. Our time with her was moving beyond words and I can only pray that I can touch lives as profoundly as she touches all those who meet her.
At the end of a day so full of impacting moments, I just sit and let myself be overwhelmed by them. How can you possibly process and absorb so many precious memories and insights? I was in the presence of many different people who are silently changing the world and I am just awed at the reality of it. This was just an incredible day...

Doing What I Can

As I walked into my usual room at the hospital, I noticed a new face in the crib to my right. I greeted the nurse and asked who our new little friend was and she informed me of his name and one other piece of info - he wasn't sick. My heart sank. Sadly, this kid had just become another statistic in the abandonment epidemic. For reasons unknown to us, parents come insisting their child is ill, drop them off at the hospital, and leave with no guarantee of when they will return, if they return. Peeking from behind the bars of the crib were the big brown eyes and chubby legs of the newest addition and the sight of him jarred me back to reality. So many things had improved since last year that I was optimistic things were starting to change. Yet here sat a one year-old child abandoned for no reason. Its hard not to get angry when you see that the poor decisions of parents are borne solely by these babies who are not at fault.
I suppose there are many ways to look at this situation. Maybe its better for the babies to be in a safe environment rather than deal with the neglect they may receive at home. Maybe its good for them to be at the hospital and receive enough nourishment rather than go hungry at home. Yet all of these thoughts don't right the wrongs done to the children by those who should love them the most. I can only pray that God has mercy on these poor children and somehow gets a hold of the parents.
God's heart was broken long before mine was. His heart bleeds more for them than mine ever could. Yet now that mine is breaking as well, I think I'm understanding His a little better. Its hard to watch people hurt the innocent, especially when you're are powerless to stop it. What I can do, however, is be there to wrap up those discarded little ones, give them as much love and care as I can, and leave the rest up to God. He's pretty good as making beauty out of messes.