The "O" Word

The content of my previous blog entries has been relatively informative thus far.  Although slightly out of character, I feel the need to express to whoever a string of consciousness involving something called Feelings.

This past weekend I was able to visit a hospital in our part of the city.  The hospital also supports an orphanage for HIV orphans from the ages of 4-16.  A group of ladies and myself went to just learn about what they do and how the workers their serve.  All of the orphans are boys.  All of them are very cute, but it takes a while to get them to smile.  The youngest, Joseph, hardly talks.  He was abandoned in the jungle at 6 months old and was found by some fishermen or something.  Anyway, we just sat and folded paper airplanes which the boys promptly turned into objects of war.  More smiles, some giggles.  Little bit of eye contact.  At the time, I didn’t know that all of the boys were HIV positive.  After leaving I found out. 

We walked over to the hospital and talked about the treatment of the boys.  I had many questions about this because of my time in Zambia.  The government of India just gives Anti-Retroviral medication for free.  Free.  This allows the children to live into young adulthood.  The boys have emotional problems the older they get because they understand that something is different about them.  They won’t live as long.  They are sick even though they don’t feel any different. 

My thoughts.  Why is it that some kids are born in India and they get proper medication and others are born in Zambia where there isn’t?  Why is it that any kids are born with HIV?  This is so unfair.  What about all of those Zambian babies that I love that were buried simply because of their parents choices in a country with poor health care?  Maybe they have it better  What must it feel like the first time you realize that you will die young, that your life was determined to be cut short even before you took your first breath?  I hate it.  I hate it for the babies who don’t grow up in Zambia.  I hate it for the children that grow into adults who face their ever shortening life with no parents to love them.  I hate it for babies left in the jungle.  So many babies.  I hate it for all of them.  So much. 

I encourage you to think about what Jesus speaks into the life of the orphan.  Use a concordance and just look up the word “orphan.”  I am still learning.