i left my heart in El Camino

Wow.

Where to begin? I can hardly wrap my own mind around what I experienced in Colombia, so to try and explain it to someone else is nearly impossible. I will do my best.

The first night we arrived, it was extremely late, but when we pulled into Fundacion El Camino, the children's home in Palmira where we would stay for the next week, we were greeted by over thirty anxious faces ranging from ages 2 1/2 to 13. When I stepped off of that bus, I was immediately overwhelmed. Children, some who looked as though a simple backpack would knock them over, scrambled up to take our 20-plus heavy bags and drag them out of the van and into our hacienda. We stood there, amazed, as the children came out of the woodwork, grabbed our hands, embraced us and kissed us as though we were family. They did not even know us.

That one moment foreshadowed the days ahead of us. We would wake at 7:00 and those of us who showered the night before would sneak outside to see the children doing their chores in the early morning, always without complaint. While one swept the porches, another cleaned the pool, and another was already beginning the first load of laundry. But as soon as they saw us, they would drop what they were doing to come and hug us and kiss us for the first of many times that day. Breakfast was at 7:30, and our team meetings were at 8:00 by the poolside, where we discussed the day's events, prayed, worshiped, and sometimes heard a short message from our lovely friend and translator Orlando. Then we were ready to begin our day.

One day we did crafts with the kids, as well as played an intense game of soccer and water balloon olympics. Another day we made tie-dyed shirts and served ice cream and cake. On some nights we gathered as a team to pray over the kids, and on those warm evenings with a cool breeze to sustain us, the Holy Spirit took over and opened the floodgates. We spoke hope into their lives, broke curses off of their hearts, prophesied over their futures and set them free from the fear and sadness and lies they had been fed since they were babies. On one special day we took all 33 kids up into the mountains to this resort with about 7 pools and 3 waterslides that overlooked valleys and a massive river, so high up that we were nearly walking among clouds. Another night we had a fiesta and served them dinner while they entertained us with their insane breakdancing. And on the day before we left, we took several kids into the city of Cali to go shopping with us.

On top of spending time with the children, Orlando took us to an amazing church one night where he was going to preach. There were about a thousand people in attendance, it seemed. He asked us to sing a few songs and at the end of the service, he asked us to pray over anyone who wanted prayer. Many people came forward, and instantly I panicked. I did not feel ready, or able, and praying over the children was so easy because their hearts were so pure and trusting, but these were adults! I had no idea what to say. So I prayed that God would help me, and I stepped forward. The very first lady I saw had her eyes closed, and I laid my hands on her and began praying. A moment later, she was sobbing, as most people did when I touched them, and they didn't even understand English! Brian, one of our team members who is just 13, started praying for a woman, and almost as soon as he touched her, she fell to the ground, overwhelmed by the presence of God. Afterwards the church fed us complimentary snacks and drinks outside and we were so overtaken we didn't know what to say.

At night the kids would take my hand and pull me over to sit with them as they ate their dinner of rice and beans, even if no words were spoken. Later, when it was time for bed, each and every child would come and hug me and kiss me and say "buenos noches" - sometimes more than once. Then they'd all go up to their beds and the lights would go out, but we waited. Because a few minutes later, a light would go on. Some kids would creep out and stand on the balcony and smile down at us micheviously, and others would come down to the ground to get another hug or hang out with us. No matter how many times we told them it was bedtime, we could never bring ourselves to leave, and the kids would never fully disappear unless we did and they were sure we weren't coming back out until the morning.

Although the children enjoyed the events we had planned for them, and thanked us for everything, it was obvious that what they enjoyed most were those moments of simplicity, when all you were doing was sitting with them on the porch at night, or helping them do the laundry, and they just knew they were loved and wanted. One of my favorite memories was during the bus ride home after a long day at the pool resort in the mountains. One of the children who had bonded with me, 12-year-old Jonathan, was watching out the window until he finally fell asleep by my side as I stroked his back. Then a girl named Yessica came over to me while all the other kids were sleeping and let me know that she was in pain. She had a headache and very bad sunburns on her back. She was at least twelve and could hardly fit in my lap, and happened to have one of the worst cases of lice out of all of the children, but I took her in my arms and gently stroked her hair until she, too, fell asleep. And for the record, I did not get one case of lice during the entire trip.

While I was there to love the children and serve them to the best of my ability, it was I who was constantly recieving. It was I who was loved without judgment, I who was blessed by their beautiful smiles, I who had oil poured on my feet while the children bowed their heads over them and prayed for me. So many times I was moved to tears and felt my heart break over their life stories. Boys who had dressed as girls on the streets because girls got more money when they begged. A girl who'd been a prostitute at just eight years old. Children unwanted by their parents or who could not be afforded, others left at the doorstep of El Camino. Four children from the same family, all with different fathers. Why were some children dumped at El Camino while their siblings had not been rejected? How can anyone not love such beautiful faces? So many questions with no answers.

They say that home is where the heart is. Well, I left my heart in El Camino. I cried myself dry leaving Colombia and am even still walking around in a fog. I did not miss one thing about America or my life before that trip when I was there. Every day I live in denial that I ever left. But I know that God has promised me that I will return, and I cling to that hope as I try to accept that I must remain here for the time being.