Mend a Broken Heart?

I have several blog post yet to be made. I am excited to report where we are at with our fund raising and I have lots of pictures to share!!

But since I am the worlds biggest procrastinator and don't have the photo's loaded, I thought I would share a post made by my sister, Tanya.

Tanya's gorgeous family:)


You all know where I stand and how passionate I am about the orphan and poor.

Sometimes it's good hear someone else's heart.


Mend a Broken Heart?

So, I have to be honest, when I first heard that my sister (Lindy) was adopting a child with down syndrome, my first thought was "Why?". Why a child that you will most likely have to take care of for the rest of your life? Why add more work to your already crazy days. Why not a child that is "healthy" and "whole". Do you really know what you're getting into?!

Selfish, I know, but I'm human right? Don't I have enough to worry about already in my own life?

I decided to make my own judgment without the full knowledge of why she and Guy made this decision. Why special needs? Why from another country instead of right here in the USA? Don't we have enough orphans here?

Then, my naive and selfish self decided to actually read one of the many posts that she has put up from from Reece's Rainbow, and check out some pictures and videos.

After that I don't think I could've kicked myself in the butt enough to make up for my first judgment that I made when I had first heard the news they were adopting.

I read of a little boy that was raised by his birth family till he was 3 months old, then given to the orphanage when he was diagnosed with an illness that he would have for the rest of his life.

I read of a beautiful little girl that was full of smiles but very low functioning with multiple health issues because her mother was an alcoholic.

I saw picture after picture of sweet babies, toddler's, 5-7 year old's with down syndrome that were given to this orphanage because if they're mother kept them, she would become an outcast among her family and friends for having a child with this "condition".

And now my hearts breaks. It breaks every time I see a new post about one of these precious babies about to be sent to an institution where they will likely die soon after their arrival.

It breaks every time I see them smiling even though they are in the conditions that they're in.

It breaks every time I compare them to Noah and all the love, family, friends, food, toys, health and a future full of possibilities that he has, just because he was blessed enough to be born into that.

It breaks every time I think that these poor babies had no choice about how their life began, and because of that, they have no choice about how it will either continue, or end.

To answer, why there and not here? I'm writing this as I'm holding Noah while he is sick with a fever. I was able to call his doctor today, go to the store and get him medicine, knowing that if it doesn't get better I can take him right to the doctor where he can help make him all better.

These babies don't have that kind of help. There are no doctors treating them for their illness. No loving arms holding them while they are uncomfortable and sick with fever. They don't have a doctor on speed dial. A local store where someone will go and get them what they need.

Their resources are here, in the USA, where their Strabismus (crossed eyes) can easily be fixed. Where the meds for HIV are more accessible. Where their malnutrition is easily fixed by our easy food availability.

That is why there, and not here, where our country doesn't neglect the children and uses every resource possible.

I want more than anything to storm into these countries, swoop up all these sweet children, and rescue them from whatever fate they are facing....

But I can't. I can't save them all. At times I feel like even saving one won't make much difference.

Will it?

The answer is YES. Even though it doesn't seem like it, there is some hope. 147 million orphans, minus 2. Gabe and Levi will soon be home, safe and sound, and they don't even know it yet.

My heart will continue to break, but I don't want to mend it. I don't want to this hurt, these tears that won't stop every time I read about them, to go away. I don't want to just forget about them so that I will "feel better".

Without knowledge, we will parish. I had to come out of my box, my comfort zone, my little world of me and my family and remember just how much hurt there is out there.

My heart is heavy, but I don't want it to be light again. With this broken heart I now have a passion. A passion to fulfill what God has called us to do, feed the poor, clothe the naked, shelter the orphans.

No longer will I turn away to protect myself from how it might affect me. No longer will I ignore the cries so I can be more comfortable. No longer will I pass over the posts about lost babies because it's the millionth one I've seen and I don't have the "time".

My heart is breaking and I pray It never mends until I am with my Savior, along with all the orphans, in the safety of the arms of Jesus for eternity.