I’m sitting at my desk, the lump in my throat rising, the pain in my chest growing. It feels so real to me, the discomfort over the loss of all comfort.
The safe haven in Jinan China touted for it’s bright pink and green and cartoon images on the windows to give privacy that opened on June 1st has “exceeded expectations.”
44 children.
44 children in 6 days.
44 children, all ill.
I am one who rises to the defense of parents in China in general who make the decision to walk away from their child. When someone shakes their head or mutters a “How could…?” style question, I am the first to interject, to attempt to explain with compassion about a place where adoption plans are not legal and expectations and family and life are all riddled with things we cannot understand. I believe the words I share with all of my heart.
from www.womenofchina.cn
Yet, there are times when I read an article like this and see the picture of a child believed to be drugged before being thrown from a car outside the “safe” haven that I feel like I have seen and heard enough, that the brokenness in this world is too much to bear.
There are 25 safe havens throughout China. I’m glad they’re there. But, oh, how my heart breaks to offer something more, something to make the lack of “deliveries” exceed expectations. How I wish I could serve right there at the door and offer counsel…something…something to make things different. I’m not sure it would matter in the long run when I would leave and they have everyday in front of them.
I feel the lump in my throat again. And, feel glad for once that I can’t speak Mandarin because I know that watching and actually understanding the language in this news clip would likely incite me more and make this lump something else entirely.