God Knows Me

This place hurts me.

This children's home in Mexico called the City of Children.
But God knows. 

God knows the pain that is here.

God knows.

God knows the pain of every broken heart.

And what is always the hardest for me to truly believe and accept...is that God knows me. 

That God knows my own pain. 

That he cares. 

I asked Him to break my heart for this place and He did and He does. 

Every single day. 

Every single day I am reminded of the pain of others. 

There is the beautiful baby girl who only recently arrived here who cries far too often in fear who hurts me. There is the bubbly and very loving teen girl who confided in me her story of being abandoned and raising her younger siblings herself selling food to stay alive that hurts me. The little toddler with sad, sad eyes, who couldn't stop clinging to people when he first came to the home who misses his mother...he hurts me. The dorm mothers here...they hurt me as I learn of their own need and desperation for love and their own heartache from relationships and having to be away from their own children and families working and living here 6 days a week. I see the heartache of the directors who must deal day in and day out with the children's bad behavior, discipline, who have to see the children brought here and then sometimes taken away, and the crushing disappointment they feel when some of the older children choose to run away from the home. The tears of the Americans who come for a week to lavish the Father's love on the kids here and hold a VBS for them every week (we host a different team every week), and the tears that fall down their cheeks as they say goodbye to the children...it hurts me because it reminds me that my time to say goodbye to the children will come for me too. Then there is my own personal heartache in being away from my family and my home church experiencing church in a way that is much different and colder to me.  Heartache from feeling shut out from God's presence and my moments of desperation and fear that He is not with me. 

Yet, there are also moments of hope and restoration. I cried openly one night during a bible class for the younger girls ages 8-10 when as part of their class, they wrote thank you letters to their dorm mother. As each little girl gave their dorm mother their card, I watched as she held them close in her arms for a very long hug, and kissed them as tears rolled down her face. I cried with joy that hurt because I understood that these little girls are loved here and although they are not with their biological parents, God has brought them a mother who does and is helping fill the void that was left in their little hearts. All of this hurt is too overwhelming for me and my limited human understanding of this world. This has been and will be a continuous process of learning and knowing the pain of others...trying to resolve within myself and with God...that it all has a purpose. That He can mend and heal it all. That He can mend and heal my own heart. That this pain really should lead us all to Him. God knows me. He knows my pain. He knows my heartache that will never be fully healed until I rest in His presence with him for eternity. He knows your pain. Your joys. Your sorrows. God knows. And He cares. In this children's home called the City of Children, this place that hurts me, where behind almost every face I see holds a story of pain, I am learning to find comfort in the simple fact that God knows. He sees, He comforts and He has a plan of redemption for each and every one of us....each of us with our orphan hearts, none of us perfect, none exempt from heartache, all of us searching to be reunited at last with our Father who made us and loves us with a love that is overwhelming and complete. 

 

O Lord, you have examined my heart 

and know everything about me.

You know when I sit down or stand up. 

You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.

You see me when I travel

and when I rest at home.

You know everything I do.

-Psalm 139:1-3