Some thoughts that I want to put down that might give future readers a little view into my mind and heart.
1) I talk about Romania a lot. Really. And I always refer to it a Romania. People have jokingly told me that all my stories begin with 'When I was in Romania...' It's almost true. This has led to more comments on how I am in love with the country, the culture, etc. This is less true. While I do enjoy my time in Bucharest; the awesome bread, the beautiful language, the outrageous fashions, the terrific and hilarious friends I have there... these things are not why I am basically obsessed with the country. In fact, the only reason I talk about Romania so much is that I am attempting to engage my listener in something they can relate to. What I am really thinking about are my kids. But so far it has been impossible for my to convey my true thoughts and feelings.
There is a girl there, Adriana, who I got to talk to a lot. She was about 22 when I was there and has moderate cerebral palsy. Her higher brains functions have the potential to be completely normal, but since she has never been to school and has been exposed to a pattern of abuse and neglect, she isn't normal, while she can carry on a conversation, she can't even name the days of the week. Whenever she got excited she would bite herself, sometimes very hard. There were scars all over her hands. But she always wanted to 'walk' with people. Basically you walk or run or stroll or skip or whatever back and forth down the hallway with her in her wheelchair, talking, singing or just being silent and she was happy. She would keep you occupied all day if she could. When new people visited and were uncomfortable, but obviously wanted to help, we would have them walk with her. Everybody was happy that way.
David was another CP kid, and he touched my heart as well. His condition was much more severe, he couldn't blink or smile or swallow at will, much less talk. Even though he was 9 years old, he fit on my lap and his legs were smaller than my forearms. Sometimes I would just hold him and fan him (since it was always very warm in his room). If you stretched his limbs he made what we all assumed to be happy sounds. During my last few weeks there, Davis was in and out of the hospital because he was having seizures. I am convinced they were from dehydration and overheating. Since he had a hard time swallowing and the orphanage was desperately understaffed with caretakers, a few swallows of water were all he would get per day. I never saw him sweat and I worried about him constantly By the end of my stay there, David had made a permanent impression on my heart. I can't say how many times I have prayed and cried for him in the past 2 years, just that God would keep him alive until I could see him again.
These are just 2 kids that touched my heart. There are a dozen more. Like Aurel, who was blind and deaf but had the happiest smile as soon as you touched him. Or Bianca, who would literally cling to you with all her strength when it was time for you to leave and who could only say one word, 'papusa', which means doll. But it is these kids that I am thinking about when I talk about Romania. I spend nearly half my time total time there with them. I feel like they are my children. But you don't just explain to an acquaintance that you have 30 disabled children in Eastern Europe. So instead I talk about the weather, or the food.
2) My time in Romania has given me trust issues. As I mentioned above, I have a hard time opening up to people about how I truly feel about the people I got to know there. Here is one example of why. A few weeks ago I found out that two of the girls I spent time with there died of dehydration. People may think 'Oh how sad!' or 'That's terrible, they aren't getting water!' but that isn't the half of it. Let me translate. They are still being neglected, perhaps worse than when I was there. You can drink water out of the faucet and there are girls dieing of dehydration! My first reaction to this was extreme grief. Dehydration, beatings, sexual abuse, neglect. All the things I always knew were going on hit me again in a rush. Every time I was by myself, I was crying. People would ask me how my weekend was, and I would put on a fake smile, say that it was fine, and then leave the room. I even skipped class because I couldn't pull myself together and I just didn't care about the subject or even college anymore. After a talk/ sobbing session with a DCF staff member (hi Michelle) I realized that I had taken this burden out of God's hands and it was crushing me. I let God take the burden off my shoulders, but that was just the beginning of healing.
After releasing the burden to Him, it was a daily struggle not to take it back up again. I knew I still had more to talk with God about, but I didn't want to. I couldn't trust God completely anymore. How could He be good and still let these things happen? What kind of fake goodness was that? Surely someone who is good and sovereign wouldn't let these things happen. I wanted to yell at God and tell Him he was failing, that He wasn't good. He was a liar and a weakling and He said He could handle my burdens but in fact He couldn't. For the first time in my life, my head said that God had a plan and my heart was the one resisting Him. After a few weeks struggling with this it was finally CS Lewis coupled with the Old Testament that brought peace and trust back into my life. Lewis puts it very well when he says in A Grief Observed "Sometimes it is hard not to say 'God forgive God.' Sometimes it is hard to say so much. But if our faith is true, He didn't. He crucified Him." I turned to the Old testament and read the laws about purification and sacrifice. They all required blood to atone for sins. I wanted blood for what was being done to those children, someone was at fault and someone needed to pay to make it better. But Jesus did that. I was so caught up in anger at God for what he was allowing to happen, I had forgotten or taken for granted the fact that Jesus paid for this on the cross. His blood covers everything without exception. I learned to direct my hate towards the Enemy, who comes to steal, kill and destroy. Not at my Father, who is Love. I don't know about the theology, but perhaps God in His mercy somehow rescues these children from the unbearable. He has given children the marvelous ability to adapt, to not be destroyed by evil things that are done to them. Not saying that we shouldn't work to save them, but more that God can be sovereign and just and merciful all at the same time. He is that awesome.
3) Life-changing is such a cliche word. It takes an true life-changing experience for someone to actually grasp the concept. My 3 months in Romania changed not only my career goals, but also my life goals. I was no longer on Earth just to go to church and stroll through life. More that one person has described me as fierce in the past 2 years. It was my time in Romania with those children that awakened ferocity in me. I learned that passion and love go hand in hand. That apathy and not hate is truly the opposite of love. I was on the front lines of this spiritual battle for the world and it is raging and bloody and intense and requires everything I am. There is no strolling on this battlefield. True, God is a refuge and shepherd. The Prince of Peace. And He loves to comfort us and walk with us. But on the battlefield, passion and ferocity are what turns the tide.
So these are a few thoughts about my life and God and Romania. I hope they have been enlightening. If you have read this whole thing, I am honored and impressed. Feel free to ask me about anything that is unclear or that you want to hear more about. Vulnerability is still something I am trying to work on, but it is more than a little scary. Keep praying for me and for them. God Bless.
