8 The Orphanage

Dear Jesus,

My alarm buzzed on my reading table, forcing me to get up to turn it off.

I had known that the temptation to snooze it if it were to be close by would have been so strong since my subconscious would have switched to Saturday mode. So, last night after concluding the prayer session with Kathlyn and Priscilla, I set my digital alarm to 5:00am and put it on my reading table across my bed. I did that so that my priority of having konoinia early each day with you will not be compromised.

Kneeling by my bedside would have also proven to be a lure to drift back to dreamland so I wrapped my blanket about my body and opened my room’s balcony door.

As I stepped out to the balcony, the cold morning air swatted my face, bringing me out of my drowsiness as I shivered from the raw cold. I sat on my mini-swing and worshiped and prayed and read your word as I enjoyed the view of our garden bathed in the soft glow of sunrise.

I went inside my bathroom to take my bath. I stepped out of the cold shower with a shiver. Today of all the days, my heater decided to retreat.

I quickly wrapped my body with my towel squelching the little droplets of water on my skin. Wet strands of hair that escaped the messy bun I had pulled my hair into last night clung to my face.

I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror. I made funny faces just for fun and my reflection payed me back in the same coin. It was hilarious.

Without wasting anymore of the little dress-up time I had left, I stepped into my black jeans and purple cotton top.

My digital clock spelled out 7:00am by the time I was all done. I was supposed to meet with the other volunteers at church by 9:00am but I figured since I was a bit early, I could go catch up with Kathlyn.

I greeted my parents and scooted off after a light breakfast of Kellogs Coco pops to Kathlyn’s

She was almost done by the time I got there. Her parents and her sister, Faith were spring cleaning their compound.

I greeted them and joked about how I was stealing Kathlyn away from her regular house chores. I succeeded in hurrying her up and together we went to the church.

The rest of us arrived and we prayed together before we started out.

Arrows children home came to full view after about 45 minutes of driving (thankfully the trip there was not boring because Mr Faithful, our team leader, kept us entertained with stories and we all sang fun choruses together).

Curious about such a name for an orphanage home, I inquired from the coordinator who told me it was an inspiration form the book of Psalms 127:4, that children are as arrows in the hand of God.

The children were jubilantly welcoming us with a song - they must have been informed of our visit.

As the other children filed in after the welcome song, a peculiar little girl that had been peering at me in fascination all through, came to me, held my hand, looked me boldly in the eye and said these words with so much conviction that I was initially taken aback: “You look like Jesus.”

I was so shocked that I couldn’t say anything but just smiled at her.

I took in her appearance. She was a few inches taller than my waist height. She had brown wavy hair packed flowing down her shoulders. Her eyes were cute and puppy-like. Her skin was golden brown when the light of the sun reflected on it. She had a smile on her lips that could melt mountains. There was a peaceful aura around her.

As I walked her in and engaged her in talk, she told me her name’s Lydia and she’s seven years old and that You are her best friend.

I told her I was pleased to meet her, that I’d love to be her friend as I am also Your friend, that she’s pretty and quite bold for her age. I finally asked her why she said that.

She gestured for me to bend down.

I did and she whispered in my ear - “I won’t tell you.”

Kathlyn was very instrumental in preoccupying the kids in drawing and painting.

I told the youngsters stories, most of them based from the Bible. I was glad my stories fascinated them too. I espied some teenagers about my age in the orphanage, guys and ladies, but they were fewer in number compared to the little kids.

Mrs Freda, one volunteer from the choir department, taught them fun songs and dance steps. I could see that the kids really enjoyed themselves.

We distributed the things the church had supplied - foodstuff, cloths, books, toiletries and many more.

We also gave the orphanage coordinators a sum of money for the upkeep of the orphanage home.

Praying with them was galactic - the ‘Amens’ of the children, I’m sure, must have shaken heaven’s gate.

Gratitude was etched upon the faces of and came pouring out the mouths of the coordinators while the children were in pure delight.

The chief coordinator of the orphanage, Mr Martin, told us that their toiletries had been exhausted about three days ago.

They had prayed together with the children each night for this specific need.

We came in answer to their prayers.

Jesus, I say thank you on their behalf. You indeed are the Father to the fatherless and the prayer answering God.

The time finally came for us to leave and I was a little sad to leave those happy children who even though they had either lost their parents or were abandoned, still know that You love them.

I had bonded with most of them, Lydia the most. They also wished we didn’t have to go.

Just we entered the mini-van to go back to our base, I looked out the window at the waving group with watery eyes.

Lydia stood with a sad expression on her face; a handsome guy who looked a bit like her stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

Lydia mouthed something I translated as “Don’t leave Him, ever.” and winked at me as she kept waving.

I knew she meant You, Lord.

I smiled and waved back at her while I tried hard not to embarrass myself by crying.

Oh Jesus, please be with them all, especially Lydia - she’s a unique one. Let people keep seeing you in me and never ever let me be separated from you.

Kathlyn told me she was glad she came as she had a great time and was inspired to care by sharing.