Let Us In

I feel empty. It is seven am. I am curled on the couch, watching the sun inch up in the sky. Half way around the world the sun is setting on an orphanage in Kigali. And in some small space, my daughter waits.

I was told that Friday, today, was my cut-off day for being able to travel with this next group. Everyone thought we would have a referral since it has already been prepared, since it is sitting on a desk, since it is minutes of effort away from being sent.

This is the 2nd time I have been left behind by a group of travelers. I am so happy that the children that belong to these wonderful parents will finally have a family. I can’t deny my excitement and joy for them. Still, I am left with a question: What about us?

We are still here. We are still available and waiting and hoping. We still have a place in our hearts and in a home. There is still an empty void here. What about us? Why have we been forgotten and pushed to the side for months? What about Jubilee? What about a baby girl who needs a family? What about clean diapers and clean food and medicine and strong arms and a warm bed? What about two brothers and a mom and a dad and a clan of uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents? What about toys and books and play? What about belonging and security?

The frustration is mounting. We cannot change the lives of every orphaned child. But we can change one and we can influence many. Rwanda, let us in. We love the child you hold.