Crazy love

Washing the girls hair

Sorry I haven't written in awhile. Life has been crazy these last few weeks. So much has happened and so much has changed. Overall life is still good here at Banglahope. Some of the student missionaries and I planned a week of wackiness (spirit week) for the kids this week, with a fun game day to end of the wackiness. I will write more later to tell you how it went.

For this post I tried modifying an article I wrote for the Collegian, the Walla Walla University newspaper, but can't seem to get it right. So I am just going to copy and paste it. Here it is:

Johnny

“Johnny, we are not leaving this classroom until you finish your math” I said authoritatively. This child had been goofing off during study time, wandering around the classroom, bothering others, and bothering me. Every time I tried to get him to do his work, he would whine like a baby, then get angry, then smile and laugh. He’s sweet, he blesses me, he’s distracted, then back to crying. This happens multiple times each day. At first this behavior drove me nuts. I wanted to storm out of the room leaving him on his own to figure out how to complete his assignments. All I wanted was to get him out of the classroom, homework complete or not. Slowly though, I began to recognize that he was just like any other student, but required attention and discipline differently than others. We started working together after class on math, staying until each worksheet was completed. Eventually he grew on me and I realized how much I appreciated his antics, and he my attention and guidance.

Jewel

There was something about how helpless she was; we had just taken her from her mother and I had to care for her while we traveled. Jewel has always been special to me, ever sine I traveled to pick her up and bring her back to the orphanage. Part of that connection I think came from the interaction I had with her mother, and the responsibility I feel in taking her child from her. I had taken this child away from the one person that loved her, but in the process found my own deep love for her too. In the months that I've spent here our bond has grown stronger. Every time I see her her face lights up as she runs to me beaming with excitement she can't contain. I love making her laugh. That giggle is the cutest thing I have ever heard. She can also be horribly bossy and pout-y. Just like me when I was a little girl. This girl and all her moods has stolen my heart.

Me, Joni and Tammy

This last week a previous student missionary came to visit with some friends. Early in our conversation he asked me who my favorite child was and instinctively I said Jewel. But then I thought about it.  I don't love Jewel more than Johnny or Brooke or Marc. All of the children here have a little corner of my heart; I love Nathan's spastic nature, Bart's intuitive mind, Tammy's awkwardness, Crissy's brutal honesty, and Kakoli's caring heart. Each of these children are vastly different yet I love them all so much. It reminds me of  God's love for humanity, however my love is an imperfect replica of His love. I struggle, and fail, to love everyone I come into contact with, while God does not. His love is openly given to all of humanity regardless, perhaps because of, our immense differences. We are all different, none the same, but He loves each His strange little children anyway.  “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God.” 1 John 3:1

Life is not fair

Katie and I with the babies

Life is not fair. I say this in a grouchy tone sprung from the massive headache that developed from a week of the worst cold of my life. It’s probably more than a cold. Why is it that I always get the most sick away from home? As Katie, a fellow student missionary, said, “I have been more sick during the four months here than the past ten years.”

Life is not fair. Ever since I was little I tended to keep an eye out for what was fair. If someone was not fair to me I would say something. More like, “Mommy! Janelle is not sharing!” or “Mommy! Jonathon ate all the cookies!” I guess it is the middle child syndrome or something but I thought I had an idea of what was right and what was wrong and I wanted to enforce it. That sense of fairness has stuck with me through the years. Splitting bills at restaurants, sharing a bowl of snack food or candy, and scheduling shower times with roommates are some small things that bother me if not done fairly.

Me and some kids from my old class

Life is not fair. In the classroom as a student I always wanted the teachers to treat every student the same. If they didn’t it wasn’t fair. They need to give each student the same opportunities, the same help. To some extent I still believe that but I noticed in the classroom as a teacher I don’t treat ever student the same. I praise the students differently, I punish the students differently, and I help the students differently. I don’t show favoritism, however, I use different methods to get the same point across. Methods tailored to each student’s character.

Me and some kids from my new class

Life is not fair. God doesn’t treat us all the same. He doesn’t talk to us all the same. God uniquely and personally interacts with each of us. I just read the other day in the bible about spiritual gifts and this passage struck me. 1 Corinthians 12:4-6, “There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men.” To me this struck me saying it is ok to be different we all are and it is good. All these differences make the big picture greater. Sometimes unfairness is necessary to achieve the best out of each individual. This world is full of a variety of characters, each offering something unique. We should embrace these differences and grow them through reasonable unfairness. I believe our world is healthier and stronger when we embrace individual uniqueness.

The now class 5 girls over for a sleepover

So now, I say this with less whining (still a little because my headache as not gone away), and a smirk on my face: Life is not fair.