This post was written on February 9th

Today I had the privilege of spending 3 hours at Hermano Pedro Hospital with kids who so desperately need to be shown the love of Jesus. I had the privilege of feeding Estephane a mashed up lunch while she sang and spit it right back out at me. I had the privilege of getting 2 great big (really sloppy and messy) kisses from sweet Irvin. I got scratched by Blanca several times and had Julio’s drool all over me as he showed me the prizes he had in his old, tattered backpack. I got to look into the innocent eyes of my sweet Ariana as she smiled at me for stroking her cheek. I had the privilege of having Saul rub my leg because he wanted to play with my feet. I got to see Diego light up a s I stepped toward his wheelchair. I got to push Lanz around the courtyard while he squealed as we went down the ramps. I saw sweet Lionel’s side-ways grin from telling him how guapo he is.

But I also saw Paulo wail as he lay alone in his crib. And he only stopped crying so loud when I would hold his big hand and rub his chest. I saw the tears of Patricia because she had no one to play with. I saw the blank stare Jessica gives from not getting enough love and affection. I saw Jonathan as he choked on his bottle that the nurse was so impatiently shoving down his delicate throat. I saw the hurt in my Genaro’s little eyes as I had to say goodbye.

I absolutely love to be there with the kids, but it’s so hard to say goodbye. I know that it’ll only be a few days until I see them again, but I know they won’t be cared for the same. I know they won’t get the love and affection a mommy can give.

I know that I’ve never been a mommy and I know that I’m only 17, but still. I long to take my sweet Genaro home and give him the attention he needs. I long to gaze into his hurt eyes and show him a love he’s never truly known before. I long to constantly remind him of how much I love him, and I long to hold him in my arms forever. But I can’t. I can only whisper to him for just a little bit each week. I don’t get to often care for him and look into his soft, beautiful eyes. I wish I could be his mommy. But I can’t. While I’m not there to stick my tongue out at him, while I can’t be there to patiently feed him his food, while I can’t be there to kiss his sweet little nose, God will be there for him. God will hold his loose little hand and wipe his adult-sized tears. He’ll be there when Genaro  no longer cries to be held, He’ll be there for my little guy when he’s treated like another task to be gotten done. He’ll show Genaro love that I can’t while I’m gone. And that is good enough. My God’s big enough to do anything.

And though it’s hard for me to sit down and do seemingly unimportant things (like my school work), I have to remember that He’ll be there. I have to focus on the task that’s in front of me so I can better help those in need. I need to do as God asks of me now so that I can better do as He asks of me in the future.

Tonight as my little Genaro goes to sleep alone and uncomforted, my God will be there to hold him in His arms because He loves Genaro more than I ever could. My God never leaves sweet Genaro’s side because Genaro is His. My God is sufficient to supply his every need. He is still good when all else fails.