Breaking the news

Ever since Tony was accepted in the University of Edinburgh to begin the pursuit of his PhD in philosophy, we've been caught in a very complex web of emotions. We have spent the past several years praying about our future direction, and this spring we prayed fervently for wisdom in what to do. Tony's acceptance into Edinburgh was a surprise because his application was late, reference letters were lost in the mail, and the program seemed a bit out of our reach to begin with. When we received the news about his acceptance, it was a strong confirmation that God was opening the doors for us to head down that path. The considerations that have gone into this decision making process are too many to detail here, but by the middle of June we were confident enough to make our final decision to head to Scotland this fall.

There are many difficult aspects of leaving, but the one I was dreading the most was breaking the news to the kids and our wonderful staff that we were leaving. I would cry just thinking about telling them and couldn't imagine how we would actually be able to get the words out. I wanted to hide from that part of this decision. When the day came to tell our staff that we were leaving, I wanted to send Tony down to the meeting and stay locked up in my office. I sat through the meeting and my lip started to tremble as soon as Tony started to transition the conversation over to our announcement. I cried, as did many others, but I felt relieved when it was over.

Then, we had to tell the kids. We decided to go room by room and talk to the kids about our departure. I was determined not to cry in attempt to be strong for the kids, but that plan failed as soon as I saw one of the girls start to cry. I was a mess all afternoon and I had never been so ready to lay down in bed as I was that night - every ounce of my emotional strength was gone. But the next day, I woke up so relieved to have the weight of that announcement lifted from our shoulders. We were ready to jump in and fully enjoy the last 3 1/2 weeks we have at the home.

I know that my feelings of guilt aren't reasonable or deserved; I know that the Lord is leading us and we are confident in the steps we're taking. Yet, I feel so guilty for leaving these kids after pouring our love into them for the past year. The deepest wound these children have is the abandonment by those who claimed to love them, so to walk away from these dear ones inevitably feels painful and laden with guilt.

But from there, I marvel at two things. I cannot fathom the level of desperation and hopelessness that these children's parents must have felt to be able to walk away, leaving their babies alone on buses, park benches, and alleyways. I am shocked by the power of sin that enabled parents to abuse and sell their children off as domestic servants. But most of all, I'm amazed by God's goodness to use his people to care for the people in this world who have been pushed aside. I'm amazed that children who've been so wounded by this world have the capacity to love and be loved again, and I feel privileged to have been given the opportunity to love and be loved by each one of them. God truly does bring beauty out of ashes.