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Sweaty and out of breath, we approached a family’s home. Cement walls and an unstable roof made up the small house. The mother of the home kindly welcomed us in and my team of 5, with our translator, gently entered the home. i took my seat next to abbi on a rickety wooden chair, the seat covered in dirty fabric. I looked around, noticing the infestation of buzzing flies and the 6 small children sitting on the cement floor. The little girls with shirts above their belly buttons because their clothing no longer fit their growing bodies, and the little boys with shirts only, nothing to cover their little legs. We talked to the mom as she told us the story of how her and her babies moved here from Haiti in search of a better life. It was hard to look around to see that this was the better life they left their home and they left their families for. I looked back to the kids to see that one of the little boys had a gash the size of about 3 quarters, that took up most of his knee. Bleeding and itchy he scratched at it as flies and gnats landed on the wound. Just wanting so desperately to treat his boo boo with some Neosporin and a bandaid, it broke my heart that there was nothing I could do for him in that moment. Why did it look so normal to him? Why it it not concerning for him or his siblings that he had a big patch of open skin on his leg? My thoughts were racing. Still having a hard time understanding all of this, I looked back at his siblings to see that one of the babies on the floor was crying about something that dearly upset him, his brother taking his broken toy I think. The mom got down to their level, very troubled that the kids were interrupting our conversation with their loud vocalizing. All of a sudden, I heard a loud slap, the mom trying to quite her son. I could feel my heart cringe inside my tight chest. My attention shifted to my team who were now chatting to the older children. They are asked them questions, trying to get to know more about their story, life, and living conditions. Heartbroken, I tried to push back the tears from bubbling out of my glossy eyes from the harsh reality that sat before me. I started to realize the conversation was coming to a natural end. Ruthie looks over at me, noticing I haven’t said anything. “Do you want to pray?” She asked me in a small, discreet voice. “No” I gurgled out as I shook my head my head at her, knowing full well my hyper sensitive empathy would kick in like it was already beginning too. I wouldn’t be able to make it through a prayer for this family with out letting the tears that were so near to the surface, trickle down my face. With just a glance, my team gathered the situation i was trying hard to combat. They quickly took my place, and someone prayed over the family and the home. we thanked them for their generosity and time and then we piled out the narrow door way. Now walking quietly to our next home, i stood outside, leaned my heavy body against a white, hard wall, and finally, let the tears fall. I didn’t understand why those kids had to live in such poverty. why was the DR not providing a better life for them, like they intended? was this their idea of a better life? who chose these kids to live this way? i didn’t understand and i didn’t want to get it. I just wanted to clean the kids, bandage their wounds, and put them in clothes that fit them. I wanted to give the mother all the money to raise her children and all the food to feed her kids, enough so she didn’t have to worry if her babies would eat that day. I wanted to clean their house so they didn’t have to live in a dirty, bug infested space. My heart ached because I knew that I couldn’t do that for them.
It sure took me a while to start to grasp why I couldn’t fix everything for them, but the Father is slowly revealing this to me. The Lord cares so so deeply for each of His children. Even though it may not seem like it, He has his hands over this family. As hard as it is for me to understand, the thing those kids and that mom needs most, is not the material items I wanted to supply for them. I have the good news in my heart, and my job is to share that with them. The Lord gave us the power to pass on this hope we are so privileged to hold. I get to look them in the eyes and tell them, our God has overcome, so come, let’s walk in freedom and let’s live in hope. Though it absolutely crippled my heart to see this, i know that the Lord is way bigger than circumstances. I get to find peace in the fact that the Father is fighting for His kids. I get to walk where the Lord leads, knowing that He is still in control over this plan we call life.
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