Recently, though, something happened all too close to home that reminded me of why I choose to say, "Yes, I'll fight for them," even when that's the hard answer. Even when I'm tired. Even when it's been nine months and I can't even remember their little hands or the way they smell or what it was like to hold a sick baby in my arms. Even then, in the hardest of times, I know that as a follower of Christ, I was made to fight for these children. Convenient or not.
"The test results were abnormal," my Mom said over the phone as my heart broke for someone I love more than I could ever explain. "She's going back for more testing in the next few weeks." I'll never forget the weeks that followed that phone call. Even though I tried to think positive, my mind raced with the possibilities of the devastation a sickness like this could bring. It was the last thing in the world I wanted this family to go through. And then I thought about that families little girl. What if she had to watch her Mom go through this? Who would be there to help her with her make-up before her first homecoming? Who would be there to hear about her first dates and cook for her friends when they came over? It was crazy--all of the sudden, I became such a fighter. There were no measures that seemed too extreme. No distance that seemed too far. I had already decided, if the worst happened, I would move to where they lived, and be the best mother-figure I could ever hope to be. Quitting school was an after thought, and my own "plans" quickly became to seem nonexistent when compared to the importance of taking care of this little girl. Because I loved this person so much, it didn't seem like sacrifice--it just made sense. I know that if I were in this mother's position, I would want someone to do whatever it took to make sure that my little girl was taken care of, so why would I not do that for her?
I still thank God today that, after many follow-up doctor's appointments, she was told that it was nothing to be concerned about. Although I feared the worst in that situation, I learned one lesson I will never forget: You will do immeasurable things for the people you love.
And then it hit me--this "worst case scenario" has happened to millions of children around the world. 13 million children to be exact. 13 million children have had both parents die and left with no one to care for them. These kids are referred to as "double orphans." That means that there were 26 million parents in the world that were forced to leave their children before they were supposed to. Mothers that were laying on their death bed suffering from AIDS as they wished that they would make it to see their first born graduate from high school. Fathers who woke up and kissed their children goodbye before leaving for work and never came home because they were killed innocently due to an unstable government that caused civil war. This happens. It isn't just a worst nightmare to some people.
And I can guarantee you one thing. If those Mothers and Fathers were still here, they would be begging us, "Please, do whatever it takes. Those are my children." Because wouldn't you do the same thing? When it comes to saving your children, deadlines and degrees and status and money and reputation don't matter. They're your children.
These kids that I work with, they were all someone's child. Some of their stories I'll never know. And in those situations, I have the choice to fill in the blank. I will always choose to believe that their parents did everything they could. That they fought until they had no more fight in them. And I will love them and fight for them as if I were that mother. Because that mother is my sister in Christ, and one day when I see her in heaven, I hope that I can honestly say to her, "I did everything I could for your child."
Because wouldn't you want the same thing for your kids?
