Lopuhinka as promised.

Leaving the Hotel Moscow, I was filled with conflicting emotions. I was thrilled to be able to see my kids after what seemed like an eternity, to hold them, hug them, and show them by me being there that I hadn't forgotten them. On the other side of that coin I was hesitant to get too excited. I had seen first hand the hurt that was caused by unmet expectations. Expecting to pick right up with the kids where you left off - but that not being the case. There are many reasons for that I'm sure - kids growing up and it not being the "cool" thing to do any more - or harder still - them not wanting to feel abandoned again because the first time you left was like when their parent left.

So as we drove I fought with my emotions so that I wouldn't become overly excited or too upset over the prospect of having different relationships with some of my kids.

As we arrived we were greeted by a group of kids. In the 15 or so faces - there were only a few that I recognized. We later learned that there was a group of them off at camp, and there were many that were no longer there (to this day I STILL need to sit down with Susan to find out the deal!)

The kids helped us to our rooms. The beds were the same, as were the blankets, sheets, bathrooms (doorless showers/toilets and all). I really did feel like I was home. Don't really know how to put it into words other than it was so familiar and comfortable. I felt like I had always been there and could always be there.

The kids that were there from before had grown up so much. Not really in height or maturity but. . . they seemed older. Like life demanded more years from them than they had to give. There's a hierarchy here at this orphanage that we didn't see in too many of the other places that I think contributes quite a bit. I saw some of the kids this year that seemed so young last year be taken by the older kids to do what older kids do . . .smoke (I'm sure among other things that I didn't see). It nearly broke my heart - but I can say it's been a long time - probably about a year since I prayed so fervently.

For the last three days I decided to take a queue from the youth pastor at my church (who took his queue from the march around Jericho) and walked around the building 7 times every morning (rain or shine). I would pray for the kids, the director, the future involvement our church would have with Lopuhinka and just crying out to God, and to the Holy Spirit to use the words my heart was screaming for these kids. I would listen to music as I walked and the song - "God of this City" came on and it became my hearts cry.

Greater things are yet to come

Greater things are still to be done in this city (read Lopuhinka)

Greater things are yet to come

Greater things are still to be done

In my soul I knew that God was not done with Lopuhinka - or with me and Lopuhinka. I also knew that even if my church decided that they would no longer be able to work with Lopuhinka I would continue in one way or another. I don't know what that looks like, or how that would be possible - but God is a big God - I'm pretty sure he can work out the details.

There's more thing I want to share - well MANY but really more for today and then the novel will be put on the shelf for another day.

The first was about Vagif - the boy in the picture from my previous post. This was a boy that captured my heart last year, and he was the one I was looking forward to seeing most this year (since I knew that Oksana had already graduated). He, unfortunately wasn't there when we arrived and there was no way of telling if he was one of the ones at camp or not. I prayed and prayed that I would see him, but I knew that God had a plan for my time there and I wanted to be present for the kids who were there, so I purposed it in my heart that I would be. A few days later I got the news that the campers would come back for a one day reprieve and then be resent out to another camp. I still didn't know if he would be one of the ones to come back but the little flame of hope began to burn a little brighter in my heart.

I was in a meeting with the interns when Julie came busting in the room to tell me that she had just met Vagif!! Are you kidding me!! I was so excited - I wanted to run down right then but I couldn't. I did spend then next few minutes thanking and praising God that he was safe, that I would get to see him, and to have Him help me temper my emotions so that if he didn't remember me I wouldn't be crushed. Well I saw him while everyone was in a big group and I went up to hug him. He turned around but I think I had scared him cause he just kind of looked at me. Ugh. My heart dropped a little, but not as much if I hadn't prepared myself.

Later that afternoon I was heading up the stairs by myself when who do you think was coming down - but my Vagif. He looked at me and his face lit up with his smile from ear to ear showing off his two deep dimples. He called my name, grabbed me into a bear hug and kissed my cheek. To say I was undone would be an understatement. Oh my Vagif. Left behind while his family moved out of the country - my heart called him my own. I would never leave him behind - and I could/DO love him like he's my own (but that's a whole other story for another time).

My time with him was short since he was leaving the following day. As he said good-bye I held back the tears that threatened to burst behind the dam. He had already loaded into the van and I went to the window to say my final good-bye. I held up my hand to the window and he put his on to match, and then I put up my other hand and he put his other up to match. I then began the moving my fingers as he moved his and visa versa. Communicating in the only way we knew how. His eyes were so sad and my dam was weaking. I finally had to pull myself away - as I said das vidana and he said it back I took off for the cafeteria. The dam finally broke and I went straight to the ugly cry as my pastor and his wife call it. It was more than that actually. I was weeping for the boyhood he's lost, for the things he's had to endure and will have to endure. My soul cried out to God for this little boy and my voice echoed those cries.

Finally I was able to pull it together, but my heart has not stopped crying out for him - I don't think I ever will. I hope I never will.

So that's all I have time for today - tomorrow I'll fill you in on God's response to my prayers about moving to Russia full time.