"Though he slay me, I will hope in him" Job 13:15

My heart is absolutely breaking as I'm writing this, but I know you all want to hear what's going on here, the good and the bad. The last couple of days have absolutely torn me apart and I'm doing all I can to hold myself together to be here for the kids and other volunteers. I know that ultimately God is in control, and His plan is perfect. I trust that He works all things for good and that maybe someday I will understand all of this.

I don't know if you heard about the riots in Kampala that went on over the weekend. They gave Nikki and Natalie some trouble getting to the airport, but they still made it safely. We had a new volunteer and a couple of adopting families coming in from Tennessee on Friday and they had to stay overnight near the airport due to the crazy rioting. But they got here fine Saturday and met their children, which was really exciting, and it's been such a blessing to get to see them together and how the kids just light up around their parents. One of the families, however, got some pretty devastating news yesterday. I'm not sure it's my place to post it on the internet, so I will just say that it was a huge setback, and they may not be taking this sweet girl home with them anymore. They are completely heartbroken over it, and well... that's been really hard for everyone. They seem to be handling it in the best way possible and are trusting in God for guidance. I can't imagine flying all the way to Africa, thinking you will be bringing back your new daughter, and finding out that that might not happen... Ugh.

So that's one of the things that has made the past couple days so hard. Also... I mentioned in my last post that one of my favorite little boys would be going home last Friday to his dad. Well, his dad came Friday, but they didn't have all the paperwork needed, so we ended up going to his dad's village and dropping him off yesterday. This boy was brought here when he was only a few days old. His mother died giving birth to him, and his dad didn't have the ability to care for him, so he's grown up here. He's now 6, and Amani is all he has ever known. So you can imagine that leaving would be hard for him. We brought along a mattress for him and some clothes, a photo album with pictures with his friends at Amani, and a bag full of sweeties. I helped to get his things together and watched him give hugs to all the kids and mamas and say goodbye to everyone. This was pretty hearbreaking. He seemed pretty ok with the idea of leaving, which made me feel better, and when I asked him if he was excited to go see his dad, he said he was.

So we got in the car and he sat down next to me and seemed fine. As the drive went on I started to see him get more and more scared and anxious. He climbed into my lap and ate his sweeties quietly. The village was an hour and a half away, so we had quite a long time in the car together. He got more and more snuggly the further we went. I tried to tell him how happy his dad would be to have him, and how lucky he was to go back to his family. As we got closer I looked down at him and he had two crocodile tears sliding down his cheeks. I felt like my heart got ripped from my chest. I did my best to comfort him the rest of the way, and by the time he got there he was composed. A boy holding a baby stood in front of a brick house on the side of a long dirt road in this remote village. When we pulled up this boy grew really excited, and I realized this must be his older brother. He ran to get his dad, and we all got out of the car to meet his family.

His father had a very kind face, and his siblings seemed genuinely excited at the arrival of their brother. His father has remarried, so we met this boy's new mom, and she was educated and spoke English. They were all in pretty ragged, filthy clothes, but they seemed kind and excited to have this boy back. They seemed as though they would love him and take good care of him and are planning on sending him to school. So his situation isn't terrible. I know this. I know he will be okay. I know he is in God's hands. But that doesn't help me feel any better about leaving him there. I told him to go play with his brothers, and he did, though apprehensively. He kept coming back to me to climb into my lap or hold my hand, but he wasn't crying or seemingly upset. Then it was time for us to leave, and his dad took his hand. He was holding onto me with his other hand, and when I began to pull away to say goodbye, a little squeak escaped him and tears started rolling down his cheeks. I tried to reassure him, but he just cried harder and harder. I gave him a hug and a kiss and he just started bawling, and at this point it was taking all I had not to fall apart in front of him. My heart was just shattered. I had to leave him there standing with strangers, sobbing, in some remote village, about to start a completely different life from what he's ever known, with no transition period, no preparation, no nothing. Just left there. And I had to be the one who left him. And it killed me.

So then today Walter's biopsy results came back. Walter's the baby with the tumor that I also wrote about last time. The sweet little boy with all that spunk and personality that I fell in love with. His results came back, and it's much worse than we thought. Basically the kind of tumor he has is extremely aggressive and has already taken over his whole body, and there's nothing we can do at all except make him comfortable. They brought him home today and he's staying upstairs in the volunteer house with us so we can take care of him 24/7 and give him his morphine and shower him with love. His tumor has grown a ton in the last week since I last saw him. He can no longer eat because the tumor has made it extremely difficult for him to swallow, and it's only a matter of time before it closes off his throat so he can't breathe. The doctors say it's only a matter of days before he goes. I am absolutely crushed. When I went into the room where he was sleeping, he heard my voice and raised his arms up, so I picked him up and his little hands just clung to me and he rested his head on my chest. He still has all his spirit. He still tells you exactly what he wants, or rather doesn't want. Later on this evening he was crying and nothing we did would get him to stop till I just let him sit on my lap without touching him. He looked really tired so I asked him if he wanted to sleep and he gave me a little nod and let me pick him up and carry him to bed and lay him down and he's been sleeping ever since. Everything he does is just so precious. The way he holds a cup. The way he crosses his feet. He's so tiny and delicate. He's 2 years old, but he weighs about 20 pounds. He is so sweet and gentle and just... ugh... how can this be happening??

The pastor of the church we all go to came over to pray for him. A few of the mamas and all the volunteers were up here surrounding him and covering him in prayer. While the pastor was praying it hit me that this boy, when he dies, he will get to be in the presence of God! He will be free of his suffering and will be with Jesus! That is his reality. He will leave this earth and his tortured body and be free! So although it is incredibly painful to see him suffer, to know that this sweet child never had a real chance at life, to know that there is nothing I can do for him but love him and pray for him, and to think of how much we will all miss him once he's gone... it is comforting at the same time to know that he is in God's hands where he will be safe, and that God has a higher purpose in all of this. Each of us here is here for a reason, and we are meant to bless this sweet boy in his last few days. We are here to learn from him and to grow from this experience. He was abandoned three weeks ago, and the tumor started growing long before that. It is such a blessing that he is here for his last few weeks as we can give him medicine to take away the pain, and we can give him a ridiculous amount of love. It frustrates me that if they had discovered the tumor at the beginning and if he'd been in America he probably could have been cured. But he's not in America, he's in Africa, and we didn't get him at Amani till it was too late. So all that can be done is pray that he leaves us swiftly and painlessly and that we can all be strong for him and stay positive around him and give him everything he needs to be comfortable.

We are learning to rely on God for strength. Every breath takes effort not to fall apart over all these heartbreaks, but God has found ways to hold us up. Earlier I was having a minor breakdown in my room, but I pulled myself together and walked out to the living room where one of the other volunteers told me little Arnold was requesting me to go play in the yard and spin him around. The last thing I wanted to do was be around the other kids because I didn't want to fall apart in front of them and I just didn't feel like I could act normal or pretend to be happy, but I couldn't disappoint Arnold, so I went downstairs and was greeted with the normal pack of kids running at me yelling "Auntie Alea!" Arnold ran over to me and grabbed my hands and I swung him around and immediately the smile on his face and his excited little giggle took away the pain I was feeling. And of course after seeing me swing Arnold, every other kid wanted a turn, so I swung each kid around in circles and my heart was slowly mended by all their carefree laughter. So while my heart is broken, at the same time it is overflowing from the love and joy that I receive from these children.

And that is what Africa is like. Your heart breaks for the people, for the land, for the brokenness, for the poverty and the disease and the violence, and the struggles that these people have to endure. But at the same time it is restored by the richness and the beauty and the presence of God. We do not get to experience God in America the way we do here. We do not feel his presence this powerfully. Even in church here I have deeper, more meaningful relationships with the pastor and people there in one month than I ever did at church in America. I have seen devastation, but I have also seen overwhelming joy. These kids have so much more joy than children in America. They don't rely on television or movies or video games or toys for entertainment and pleasure. They have each other. They have really nothing else. And that is all they need. And they are happy. Truly happy. It makes me want to stay here forever and never come back to that emptiness.

I know I am still here for a reason, and I know that I have so much more to learn. I know that my faith is growing so much and I feel so blessed to be here. This experience is changing me daily, and I feel more and more like the woman God created me to be. I'd appreciate your continued prayers for everything that's going on here. And some good news, Arnold is going home to the states on Friday to meet the rest of his family! They finally got everything taken care of and he is good to go just as soon as he gets his passport and visa in the next couple days!! AND one of the mamas just had a baby girl! She has a pack of boys at home and wanted a girl so badly, so it's really exciting she finally did. She was in Baby A my first few days here before she left for maternity leave, and she showed me the ropes. She is very sweet and I'm so happy for her! So there's some good news so I can leave you on a brighter note :)

Oh! And Happy Birthday Bubba! I love you and miss you!!

Lots of love,

Alea

Please Pray for Walter