If you haven't already, make sure you read part one so you'll understand the context of this story.
"She's what?"
"You mean like leaving, leaving?"
Supper was nearly finished as I sat with Nina (a co-volunteer and my unofficial mentor while she and her family are volunteering at KGS), talking and eating up the last bit of food from our plates. Eating had been paused when she mentioned that the project manager told her Kanom would be leaving KGS...tonight.
Things always move so fast! Most likely it feels that way because of the language barrier so unlike at home, where I catch wind of everything happening to everyone one, I only learn of things as it happens. Saturday morning, or sometimes even right after church, I'll learn that everyone is going to a hot springs all afternoon or I'll learn the day before that I'm expected to lead out in a Christmas program. You learn to be flexible in all things and prepared for just about anything because...well usually anything can happen!
Nothing can prepare you, or your heart, though for the news that one of your girls is leaving. Not just for a holiday or weekend, but for good. There may be 28 of them and although I have to admit, like most honest teacher, I may have some favorites, they're all my girls. My girls for a full 8 months and my girls I hope even after I leave. But the 27 who became 28 back in November now returns to be just 27.
The next 30 minutes were a blur: girls bringing down Kanoms clothing and school supplies, family members meeting with the staff, girls awkwardly saying goodbye as they too seemed taken off guard.
The reasons for her leaving were simple yet complex. She was tired of the early morning, chores, and still struggling a bit to fit in. To Nina and me, she seemed happy as she began to find her place here at KGS but like the past times she ran away, the life of freedom she was used to was what she thought she wanted. The problem is once she leaves KGS, the complications begins. She may end up staying at home...but when she lived there before she was malnourished and susceptible to neglect. If she ends up at another shelter, she'll most likely be taken to a city three hours from her current home. It didn't make sense to me then and still doesn't to this day.
I'll never forget that last hug, one of hundreds that she'd give me nearly every day. I handed her a picture book, containing her favorite and only bible story she ever really knew, and she reached out her arms for a hug. As I held her, I fought back tears (a battle I lost pretty quickly). "I love you", I told her, in English and Thai and she nodded that she understood. I started to pull back, but her tiny arms kept holding me. We stood there for a few seconds more; me holding this little child who hadn't felt a mother's hugs since she died years before.
And then...she vanished, taken back to her former life of uncertainties. The time of her being my little girl ended just as abruptly as she had become "mine". Even as I write, emotions come fast and if this were a page of paper it would be wet with my tears. My influence in her life was ended.
I can't help but ask those questions that hold more unknowns than certainties: did her time at KGS do anything positive for her? Did I teach her anything worth remembering? Will any of my Thai/English words I spoke to her be remembered? And finally, what was the purpose of all of this?
I know these questions will come back to my mind as I say goodbye to all of my precious girls in less than two months. Although the easy thing to say is "of course you made a difference" the truth is I don't know. The reality is that 8 months vs a lifetime of being told that you must behave well to be truly loved may not technically make a lot of difference.
Call me crazy, but I think there's a reason God doesn't show us in the moment the impact of our lives. If we could see the exact positive change our lives make, how might we begin to be selective of what we do with our lives. Career and life choices might be changed because suddenly following our callings would be about the numbers. What would bring the best change? No, what would bring the biggest impact?
Instead, God has done something pretty amazing: He asks us to trust Him with not just our success but also the knowledge of that success. He asks us to give Him the worry and doubt and believe in His own hidden system of fulfillment, set at a value we don't even understand.
It's as if Jesus is whispering with every unknown: Trust me, my daughter. I know you don't understand and want to know, but these are secrets you wouldn't know how to handle. I'll give you enough knowledge to keep you going, but not enough to find yourself trusting in your own ability to change lives. Be diligent in everything, not just the things you think are bringing about change. Give "your people" to me, and I'll work out all the changing between just me and them your own ability to change lives. Be diligent in everything, not just the things you think are bringing about change. Give "your people" to me, and I'll work out all the changing between just the two of us.
