His Plans

Our arrival again in 2001, carried with it much fanfare. The elderly look up from their rigorous daily chores to see our huge bus make its way down the muddy and rutted streets. The local children congregate at the one restaurant in town with pen and paper in hand to get the “autographs” of the American visitors. They bear “gifts” to make sure we will remember them, and bring cherished evidence of the trip we made last year. As for the children confined in the orphanage, their faces line the windows in anticipation, waving at us furiously, to ensure we feel welcome once again. There excitement is contagious. They run to greet us grabbing arms and legs and anything else they can hold on to. The team is crushed by the crowds embrace and humbled with the outpouring of love.

As we drove to the orphanage, joyfully we saw the building refurbished by money donated through East West. We experienced gratitude on the faces of the doctors and workers after the presentation of thousands of dollars in medicine, clothes and school supplies. Again we saw Julia, still broken hearted, sad, and waiting for her prayers to be answered. We come and go freely, feeling good about ourselves, and our missionary efforts. But Julia and countless other children in orphanages around the world, suffer crushing loneliness as they watch another bus disappear again, into the distance.