| Of tears for the fatherless; Czech day three |

At the dawn of day 4, I'll look back and reflect on day 3.

Monday February 21st was a fairly long and rigorous day. Painting in the morning hours gave way to a quick lunch on route to an orphanage that primarily supports 0-3 year olds, with some up to age 5 or so. While this orphanage appeared well equipped and supported financially, it became incredibly clear almost immediately that there was a tremendous need there.

It was not a need for money or for toys, for they had many, but for love. The simple investment of play, of smiles, and of time. After the tour of the place, I spent the brunt of my time there outside with the kids in the onsite playground area. The barrier of language was one that could be overcome by dinosaur games, slides, and being launched into the air only to be caught and launched again.

One thing that resonated with me was that the children see many females (their mothers, the staff, the nurses), but they do not see or interact with many males. The fathers are absent and there aren't many men in the field. And I have to be honest, I noticed this in their play. At first the kids were a bit stand-off-ish, but once the walls were down their favourite play pays were the guys. I had the opportunity to go down the slide with a half dozen different kids. They were encouraged by my example, it would seem, and they all wanted to join in. At one point the girl in the lead of the stair climb to the slide got her mitten caught. Like a 401 collision the whole group of kids stopped and almost ran each other over. Cute kids.

But one kid stood out to me most. She was a little girl with downs syndrome. Language aside, she and I communicated through signs. She insisted that I go down the slide before her, every time! She was just so cute. When I got into the train that was far too small for my body, she was one of the first to come and join me inside.

I think above all, my heart broke for the fatherless. That in all the world, there are so many with a need for a father, and yet so many don't turn to Abba Father, the God who loves his children and is so willing to adopt many into his family. I think that my heart broke because of the few moments of joy that were plopped in between lives of hardship. Some of these kids were 'unadoptable' on the grounds of race, health, or disability. And with tears in my eyes, I can proudly say that God's kingdom is not based on these divisions; come one, come all, come all who are thirsty and drink of living water.

And even though I'm experiencing some stretching, some discomfort, and some challenging social dimensions, God is so good! His will be done. His will be done.

Thanks for reading.