Postcards from Camichines Part II: The Week’s Plumb Line

So what are we doing here?

I am not asking the existential question I was yesterday. I am actually trying to answer this question.

I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me in the last couple weeks, “so what are you going to be doing down there?” The problem lies in that the answer was, “I don’t really know. A little construction. Working with kids. Something about corn… yeah…”

Alright, so here’s the biz:

Made some AWESOME orange juice after writing this post on the rooftop.
Seriously, this is the best way to start the morning.

There are eleven of us down here in a village outside Guadalajara. We are working at an orphanage and plan to complete whatever tasks they can throw at us. Right now, there is a monster pile of corn to be husked, a chicken coop in need of constructing and a school roof top that will eventually be transformed in to a second story. It seems like a lot and this is our first workday. 

It’s hard to call this place an orphanage, just because it seems so much like a home. One with a rather large family and a school on site, but seriously, a home. There are around fifteen kids here, each so precious and energetic. They are surrounded by a staff that loves them and is really looking out for each of the children’s interests. My first twenty-four hours here have been a huge blessing already.

Part of the corn action. After hand-picking off the kernels for
a while, they brought in a machine to do it much faster. This
is some of the team sifting that corn. SOOO much corn!

Yesterday, we went in to Guadalajara for church and I was given a beautiful picture of what is going on here.

We sat in the back of the sanctuary. The home director, his wife, the children, the interns, the teachers, and our team filled three rows. I spent most of the service lost, holding white knuckled to the bi-lingual bible I had been handed for understanding.

In front of me, the home director sat beside a chair holding two of the younger guys. The one closest two him has only been at the home a few weeks and–like most of the kids–has had a rough background, despite being only a toddler.

I found myself moved to tears in the middle of the service as this little guy nuzzled into his new father’s side. The director of the home smiled down, embracing the child close. 

This little guy is the one who touched my
heart that morning in church. Gah! those

This simple picture was so beautiful to me that even thinking about it makes me cry writing this–I’m a crier. I’ll admit it. This little boy arrived here under dire circumstances and now gets to be loved and cherished and held close by a father. 

This beautiful picture of being adopted–taken in and accepted–has captured the purpose of what I think this week will hold. We are not lost. We will never be lost again. We are like this little child–a little beat-up, broken, not quite getting the language or righteousness, but God pulls us close to his side and welcomes us into his home to be loved and to be guided by him.

This is the tone with which this week has been set. I am so excited to see what is next. It was wonderful getting to know the kids a little bit last night as we walked around the village together and played with them in the plaza.

More tomorrow!


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