Amanda Elswick

This recent trip to El Salvador was not unlike the others I have participated in—same flight, hotel, city, orphanage, many of the same people, and, almost the same agenda. And yet, each experience is different, each encounter unique, God has intended each trip with a specific purpose to bring glory to Himself. One of the many ways the Lord was glorified was in teaching me something new about love. Love is a language all its own. Regardless of spoken language or culture, every human being has the same basic need for love. And we as Christians have been given so great a love, how can we not share it? I John 3 says, “How great is the love the Father has lavished upon us, that we should be called the children of God!” (verse 1) and “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down His life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers” (16).

We spent most of our 5 days at the orphanage of La Casa de mi Padre (My Father’s House). Home to about 45 children, that place is always bustling with activities. In the morning, the older children are all at school (having risen at about 4am to dress and board their bus) and the staff is cleaning and preparing lunch. The babies have just had their baths and are being dressed and fed. The relative stillness is to be savored, for soon enough the magnitude of both noise and activity with increase exponentially! As part of the team, we spent the morning holding babies. Six or seven of us sprawl on the nursery floor rocking the infants or entertaining the toddlers – you never seem to get over the fascination of holding something so precious in your arms.

Just before lunch, the front gate burst open and a band of children, all dressed in blue and white, and all under four feet tall, come running in off the bus. They rush quickly into their rooms and trade in their uniforms for play clothes. About that time the bell rings and the children take their places in the middle of the big room, boys in one line, girls in the other; they bless their food, and lunch begins. Loving these kids does not require words. We speak the universal language of love as we girls fix each other’s hair with every assortment of bows and colorful barrettes, read books, and draw pictures together. The older boys on our team play soccer with the kids or wrestle on the floor. The preschoolers engage in tag or ball or hide-and-go-seek.

Soon enough, the gate bursts open again and another group of smiling faces enters the scene, although perhaps in a more orderly fashion. The middle/high school age kids also change into play clothes and set to work on their homework. Interaction with these children can be more challenging, but with their growing English skills and my meager Spanish, we were able to have some kind of conversation, however comical.

At the day’s end we all walk away with the feeling that we’ve learned to speak a child’s language with our love. Touching the children, holding their hands, tickling their tummies, listening to their laughter and their conversation leaves you knowing that you’ve touched Jesus, and what a privilege it is.

While most of the children can accept the wordless love that we offer them, some hold back. One of those children is Erika. Since she just arrived at the orphanage at the age of 3, I had no idea what kind of life she’d had before. When I tried to engage her or hold her, she would pull away with a frown on her face. Wanting love but not knowing whom to trust or how to receive it, Erika rarely showed affection and then only to certain people. Past her actions and her dark eyes there was a heart in need of healing.

Before coming to El Salvador, I had heard about the baby at My Father’s House named Mirna, who couldn’t see or hear well and had major brain problems. But I never anticipated my heart’s reaction to this child. That one year old girl was born with only a portion of a brain – just enough to keep her alive – and she has hydrocephalus, making her head large because her brain fluid does not circulate properly. The very first time I held her, I looked into her eyes which could not focus on my face and her mouth that could not smile and tears came to my eyes as I saw so much suffering in one little life. I prayed for healing for her and asked the Lord why He allowed so much pain in one so helpless.

The answer came to me the next morning as we prayed as a team. The Lord was saying, “Amanda, look at my love, can you understand it, can you fathom it, can you equal it?” Ephesians 3:17-19 says, “And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, the grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled with the measure of all the fullness of God.” Surely, Christ loves Mirna more that is humanly possible to love; He lovingly created her exactly as he wanted, beautiful and with a purpose. In Mathew 26:40 Jesus said, “… whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for Me.” Truly Mirna was the least of these, and yet what a privilege to hold and pray for her. I knew that touching her little hands and tiny feet was indeed touching the very hands and feet of Jesus. Such moments give you a window into the heart of our Savior and His vast, unfathomable love. These times also make me long all the more for heaven, where we will worship Jesus forever in a perfect place filled with love and devoid of suffering. Mirna has blessed the lives of all who have touched her and has challenged the hearts of so many – how great a purpose God has accomplished already in her short life.

Our God is the God of hope, and of healing, and of grace. We know that He loves the little children, and He has blessed the ones of My Father’s House by bringing them into that loving home. We thank Him for His goodness to them, and His grace which is sufficient.

I thank you, my friends, for your prayers. Please, even more now, I ask for your prayers for the children. Many of their hearts are in need of healing. I left my heart in El Salvador, on the steps of My Father’s House … God Bless.