Loving Pains...

My second trip to Niños de Baja was even more impacting than the first. These kids cannot help but punch through my chest, grab on to my heart, and teach it what it means to beat for love. After the previous trip I was able to learn the names of some of the kids and call them by name. They seemed genuinely surprised and pleased to be spoken to personally in addition to being played with.

But the main reason this trip was so special is because I was joined by Pete, Sandy, Hunter, Jacob, Bryer, Macie, Kristi, Ashley, and Nick. We came earlier than last time and were able to do some work for NdB as well as spend some great time with the children there. We started the day playing with the kids - pushing them on swings, picking them up and swinging them around, and generally loving on them - and then worked at the guest house and main building. After this we went back to play with the children and this was the first time of the day that I got to see 'strong and beautiful' (for the sake of safety, I won't put the children's names here). I think she did remember me, and I certainly remembered her.

As we played, my heart swelled to watch the other members of the group with the kids, some moved to gentle tears by their simplistic and welcoming beauty. These kids adored the attention and we loved indulging them. I don't consider it presumptuous at all to say that the love of God was flowing in abundance and touched everyone there. Some were more moved than others, for various reasons, and some remarked that they wanted to come back as soon as possible. Of the adults who went, one (at least) expressed a desire to return with some regularity, whatever that might mean in the working out of the trips. I am over and above pleased that the NdB bug has spread and even more hearts are being touched by this blessed place in El Porvenir.

On a personal note, my experience took the love I felt the first time to a whole new level. 'Strong and beautiful' and I fell right back into the same playing and tickling and swinging and such. She is such a doll!! This girl is a gem, a wonderful child of God with an infectious smile and a wonderful heart. Today I asked one of my youth group students how to say "I love you very much" in Spanish (te quiero mucho) so I could convey in the words of her heart what I felt in my heart for this angel. I told her several times and each time I knew I meant it. She played through it, did playful hits, and (I think) otherwise ignored what I was saying. She got hurt once and I held her as she cried; I was told that my affection for her was evident from the time I saw her until we left; one said they thought I should adopt her, because she obviously only had eyes for me while I was in there... I'm still reeling from that, and haven't yet been able to process what I'm feeling.

Leaving then was a real event. It was so hard to pull away, to stop our time together. Even as I walked around picking up toys and asking the kids to help, my eyes could not let her out of my sight. And when we finished and she and another girl were playing with another person, I have to admit I was jealous. I wanted to be with her, I wanted her to play with me, to look up a me with those eyes I've learned to love. I called her name and she looked at me. I took a step toward her and she did the same. We met up and I... well, honestly, I don't remember what happened next. But somehow I ended up carrying her, holding her, as a third reminder that we needed to go was voiced. I whispered to her again, "te quiero mucho" and softly tried to hug her close to me.

My heart broke open and I melted into her as she, for the first time, leaned easily against my chest. I held her head and told her she was bonita and gently swayed her back and forth - I think it was as much to comfort me as to comfort her. She rested there easily against me as my mind reeled from all the firsts that happened with this beautiful little girl. She got hurt, showed me it was her hand, and I kissed that hand. She allowed me to really hug her without pushing away. She rested in my arms and cried as I rocked her back and forth. She laid her head on my shoulder and allowed me to hold and kiss her head as I swayed her in a silent goodbye. And she cried with me as I told her again that I loved her very much.

She knew I was leaving. I knew I was leaving. It was hard and, even harder, is the thought that it might be more than a couple weeks before I can see her again. Somehow, that just doesn't seem right to me. Honestly, I hate it. I want to see her again today, and every day thereafter. Distance is a cruel taskmaster. I think I'll end this note with the discomfort I feel, and all the swirling, jumbled questions still unanswered.