You could ask me what I expected from these orphans, and I’m not sure what I’d tell you. A part of me expected their hearts to be hurting from the young sufferings they’ve endured, and perhaps they are. Part of me expected the typical western view of those in poverty, to realize the overstated ‘phenomenon’ that humans can be happy with next to nothing to their name. Crazy, huh.
But what I see in these kids has been strange to accept, difficult to process and humbling to endure. And it’s all about the love they pour out.
They’ve taught me that love, the selfless mindset that unites us all, is not dependent on anything. Through our Father, it has no barriers. Maybe I’ve always been taught that, but I’ve seen it lived out radically here in Cambodia.
I think we as people tend to limit the love we give and receive, upholding those dear to us above strangers, resulting in love exclusivity. Love can turn into relationships we take pride in rather than the prideless state of mind we should be living out. And when our worldly treasures are in jeopardy through suffering or loss, we victimize ourselves, allowing us to slack in the whole “spreading love” area. Our love exclusivity tends to grow, ignoring the fact that God’s love has no boundaries. He can use us as vessels through our hardships, and it is certainly not dependent on our worldly possessions.
Undoubtedly, the body of Christ is called to love everyone more than ourselves. But what does this mean for orphans who have suffered abandonment, loss and lonliness before the age of 5? Do we expect them to love selflessly, fully and freely after having their supposed unconditional parental love was turned conditional? *see below*
I certainly did not, but oh, how they do. How they love so much more than imaginable. Continually, I am left in awe of this miracle. That those with so little are not only content, but they still pour out the love of Christ.
And the sad part is, my instinct has been to stop them because my western mindset starts racing…
“They don’t know where I come from. I don’t deserve this.”
“I was a winner in the privilege lottery. They weren’t. I can’t accept their love amidst their suffering.”
And on it goes.
But it’s the kids like Borite who have drastically changed my heart. She is a 14 year old girl and the oldest sister of five. Oh, and she loves to love like no other. After a long conversation fuelled by Google Translate about her hopes for the future, she hugged me and said “Borite, Cambodia. Jenna?” “Canada” I responded. She continued to say “Me, pray, Jenna, Canada”. Before I could say a word of my instinctive defensiveness, she began to pray in Khmer for me back home.
“Who is she to be praying for me?” I thought, as if I don’t deserve love in return. Alas, the inevitable tears began to flow. I felt an array of emotions, including shame of my nationality and guilt that I had not offered to pray for her first. Feeling my privilege weighing heavy on my chest, I just hugged her. It’s all I could do.
There have been countless instances such as these, where the kids pour out wisdom and love seemingly out of no where. Though I’ve been reluctant and full of guilt, I’ve learned to let them love.
If I don’t let them love, I’m not letting my God love. He works in and through anyone who believes; and I don’t doubt for a minute that most of these children have fostered a place for their Father. Why I have doubted the messengers of God’s love is a question I don’t have all the answers for, but I do know that God can work through anyone in any position to do His good work. I’m overcoming my skepticism and pride, acknowledging that I need His love as much as they do. Their love is no greater or less than mine, as it is our God’s love being poured out to each other.
I know, it’s a weird and unexpected dilemma I’ve been dealing with. But God is changing my heart and my eyes on the way I see poverty and loss, and I’m quite alright with that.
Moral of the story? I’ve just gotta let them love, and I’ll let the Father let me love them back.
Peace and love,
Jenna
** (note: the majority of the children here are not traditional “orphans”, rather they have been abandoned by their parents)**
