In Memory of Sebastian... And All The Others Like Him

While I was living in The Republic of Congo (ROC) I visited Baby Crèche Orphanage. 

I had waited to go, because I knew what would happen when I did.

The first time I went I spent the whole time with a baby boy named Sebastian. He was withdrawn, somber and weak.  He had long, skinny legs, just skin and bones, sad eyes, and a disproportionately large, round stomach. 

I’m a sucker for the ones who you have to work to get a smile out of – I take it as a personal challenge. And with Sebastian, it was sure a challenge.

I went back to the ship, and what I had feared would happen took place. After a few days of thinking about and praying for Sebastian, I began to research the adoption process for Republic of Congo. Several weeks of emails to anyone and everyone I could find who knew anything about international adoption in ROC eventually led me to the conclusion that it wasn’t possible for me to pursue adopting little Sebastian at this point.

The Republic of Congo doesn’t allow single adoptive parents under age 35, and even then only allows same gender adoptions for single parents. It would cost over $7000 just to put together the paperwork to even ASK a judge to make exceptions to both these rules. Not only that, but being in the country with him actually made it harder, if not impossible to start the process. I’m pretty sure the US government wouldn’t accept a home study of my 6-berth cabin.

I visited Sebastian and the other babies at the Baby Creche orphanage a few more times before I left. As we were leaving, some of the other Mercy Shippers would say things like, “Doesn’t it just make your day to hold those babies?”

“No”, I would think to myself, “it absolutely ruined my day.”

How can I go about my day normally - where there’s no question in my mind about whether or not I’ll have supper, or if something happens if I’ll have someone there to support me - when I’ve had this fresh reminder of all those without their basic needs met and without anyone to look out for them?

“Defend the weak and the fatherless;

uphold the cause of the poor

 and the oppressed.”

Psalm 82:3

Today I found out that Sebastian passed away this past Friday. Malnourished, abandoned, and with no one to make his problems their problems, he slipped out of this life.

Grief, guilt, and sorrow coalesce somewhere in the depths of my heart. You all will tell me not to blame myself, and really, I know it's true.

But I can’t help but wonder how many kids just like Sebastian died today.
And I can’t help but wonder if there’s something I could have done about it.

According to the World Food Programme, "poor nutrition causes nearly half (45%) of deaths in children under five - 3.1 million children each year." 

Let me do the math for you - that’s 8,493 a day.

EACH DAY 8,493 CHILDREN LIKE SEBASTIAN DIE BECAUSE THEY DON’T HAVE ENOUGH FOOD.

There is no getting around the sheer injustice of this. 

How many of us, had we sacrificed something that we “need” or want, could have made a difference in the lives of one or more of these helpless children? When I compare the value of spending $28,000 on the new car I'm looking at versus putting my resources towards LITERALLY SAVING LIVES, the car doesn't seem like as much of a necessity. 

“Christ has no body on earth but yours,

no hands but yours,

no feet but yours.

Yours are the eyes through which

Christ’s compassion for the world is to look out;

Yours are the feet with which he is to go about doing good;

And yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now.”

-Saint Teresa of Avila

I've seen it. 

I've seen lives transformed by the generosity of people willing to put other's needs above their own comfort. 

I've seen lives saved by surgery on a big white ship funded by donors and staffed by volunteers. 

I've seen orphans become sons and daughters of men and women who understand Christ's love so deeply that they're willing to do for others what he did for us. 

“'He defended the cause of the poor and needy, 

and so all went well. 

Is that not what it means to know me?’ 

declares the LORD.” 

Jeremiah 22:16

Far too often the hugeness of the need for justice in this world paralyzes us, stopping us from doing the things that we can do to make a difference. Relief organizations like Compassion International, Mercy Ships, The Hunger Site, Charity: Water, and so many others save and transform lives. Development programs like Plant With A Purpose and Trade As One create sustainable resources in a community, break cycles of poverty, and lead to lasting change.

It starts with denying ourselves more excess (or reevaluating what we perceive as needs), so that others in the world, like Sebastian, can have their basic needs met. 

“If a man shuts his ears to the cry of the poor,

 he too will cry out and not be answered.” 

Proverbs 21:13

 Let's make a difference, friends. 

learning how to cry

I’ve never been that girl that cries whenever they see a baby, or a puppy, or "the cutest proposal video ever."  In fact, until a few years ago I could easily count on one hand the number of times I cried in a year.

That was, until one day God decided to allow me to get it.

My sophomore year in college I sat in the balcony of Biola's gym with my friends, listening to a good, but not particularly charismatic speaker.  He was talking about orphans – and ADOPTION. By the end  of his spiel I was a hot mess. Tears were streaming down my face, and my friends (who were familiar with my impaired tear ducts) were looking at me like I had grown a narwal horn.

Now, I was no stranger to orphans and adoption. I had spent time with orphans on mission trips, and have family who have adopted.

So what changed?

After a decade of knowing God, I finally understood that the orphan this speaker was talking about, the children I'd met on the dirty streets of Tijuana - was me. I understood that God the Father had reached down, opened my eyes to how desperately I needed him, and in grace had paid for my life with Jesus’ blood - so that I could be adopted into his family.  And because I've been adopted I have absolute confidence that whatever happens I have a Father and a family who is mine forever.

"But when the right time came, God sent his Son, born of a woman, subject to the law. God sent him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that he could adopt us as his very own children. And because we are his children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, prompting us to call out, "Abba, Father." Galatians 4:4-6

So, yes, now I bawl when I hear stories like this:

I bawl because I can't imagine being a child living without the assurance that I have someone who will find a way to take care of me, or at the very least BE with me, no matter what happens.  And because of that, there are few things more powerful than the rescuing or ransoming of a life through adoption.
There are few things you can do that are more selfless than giving someone a forever family, pledging to be FOR them, no matter what they do.

I don’t fight for adoption because I think it’s easy.  In fact, I think its one of the hardest things you can do. I’ve seen that first hand. But as followers of Christ we don’t do things because they’re easy. It’s the exact opposite. We are called to “take up our cross daily” and to, by our words and actions, point people to our God and his good news of salvation.

What better way to do that then living out the physical reality of our spiritual state  - our lives, ransomed by Christ. Not because we deserve it.  Or because we’ve been perfect children since our adoption. But because of grace that was freely given.

"Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you." James 1:27

So now you know my secret.
If you want to see me puffy-eyed and blotchy, introduce me to a family like this one:

Freely we've received, freely we must give.