It all started with what if.

We had just returned from the first team trip to the orphanage last spring. Dreaming of the next trip seemed to help us emotionally as we reentered life at home. Knowing that our friends Ben Leaman, who is an incredible photographer and creative artist, and his wife Abbey would be on the next trip 6 months later, I sent them a text that simply started with what if.

What if you led a photography workshop with the older kids there? You could weave truth into the lessons, build them up as creative beings who can make an impact on the world. What do you think?

It was surreal months later to be witnessing this—Day 1 of the first ever orphan photography workshop in Shaanxi.

At 4pm everyday, there were 12 children between the ages of 8 and 12, ones we had not been invited to engage with before now, eagerly waiting for the Americans and the red cameras we had in hand for them in the lobby of the orphanage. Ben started each session with a short lesson, masterfully weaving in a deeper lesson into each one, which was followed by time for the children to take pictures, as many as they wanted, focusing on the topic of the day.

Day 1 {beauty} – what is beauty? there is beauty all around us, even in the seemingly mundane and ordinary.
Day 2 {shadows} – what makes a shadow? shadows are reminders that things—and you—make an impact on the world.
Day 3 {color} – what colors do you like? colors make us feel. it’s good to feel things. we are made to feel.
Day 4 {portraits} – who do you find beautiful? all people are beautiful, people are God’s masterpiece.

Every evening, after the rest of the team had collapsed into their beds, Ben and Abbey burned the midnight oil, sorting through literally thousands of images on memory cards and editing pictures that the children had taken that day.

The results were nothing sort of miraculous. Allow me to simply give you a sneak peek at a few of the pieces that took our breath away.

I confess that I didn’t expect this. I wanted to build them up as creators; I wanted to speak into their hearts that they were beautiful and that the world around them could be seen as beautiful. I confess that I didn’t expect their creations to actually be stunningly beautiful. And, they are. They are absolutely amazing. What they captured through their camera lenses of the ordinary around them is nothing short of extraordinary. 

Day 5 {celebration} – Come and see and celebrate what you have created. We celebrate you.

I had a hard time keeping my camera steady through my tears during our last photography workshop. We showed the children and the staff who gathered behind them the pictures the children had taken. We saw all of their eyes open wide as we showed them how there are elements of art and beauty that are universal despite how we don’t speak the same language and live on opposite sides of the world. We printed at least one picture for each child to keep as well as their portrait that Ben had taken of them, capturing personalities and inherent beauty in each one. And, then Ben and Abbey called out each child by name, invited them to the front of the crowd, and awarded them a certificate of completion, congratulating them as beauty makers and beauty holders.

One of the directors came to me after the ceremony and bowed her head to me as she spoke. Our translator told me she thanked me for the hard work and for the idea to do this class for the first time. I bowed to her and told her it was a dream come true.

There’ve been more what ifs over the last week or so. What if we hosted a photography exhibit featuring their art? What if we took it beyond our local town to show people the value of their vision and allow them to see these children—orphans with special needs—as beautiful beauty makers? What if we were able to fund the work, keep the work going, through an exhibit like this?

Anyone want to sponsor something like that?

O Lord, Sovereign God, maker of all things, sustainer of life.
You know all things; nothing exists that you do not know.
You don’t stop there. You don’t just know all things; you are engaged with all things.
You are always present, always active, always working.

Lord, it was you who nudged me. It was you who stirred my spirit.
It was you who gently led me and fully provided.
It was you who picked me up and carried me across the world as your ambassador.
It was you who whispered encouragement in my ear and into my heart and upheld me.

You said, “This is my servant. I am her God. I delight in her,”
proving yourself a faithful and gentle Father
not because of who I am but because of who you are.
Your song over me and your joy in me sustained me when my knees were weak and lifted my spirit when I was weary.

You led me on a path I did not know, a path I thought would bring your light to a dark place.
But, that path led me to you, father to the fatherless, companion to the lonely, the One true friend to the seeking.
You were already there, already at work, already drying tears and healing broken hearts.
You were already closing the gaps on tiny lips and in people’s lives.

You don’t need me to bring you there. You don’t need me to be a savior.
I lay down before you knowing I am unable, aware of my frailty and my own need to be saved.
But, you lift me up and welcome me as your child to be a part my Father’s work.
You invite me to love with my heart, head, and hands despite of myself.

You are higher than the mountains, louder than the cries of humanity, bigger than the greatest walls man can build.
You show compassion to those without a family and those who grieve not cradling their children.
You guide the hands of even those who do not yet know you to do your work. You give glimpses of you.
How can I not know you more, crave you more, love you more?

O Lord, Sovereign God, maker of all things, sustainer of life.
You know all things; nothing exists that you do not know.
I humbly thank you for calling me, saving me, loving me, using me.
You are the only sovereign Lord, and I am your servant.

a version of this post was originally posted in March following the first trip I took to serve at the orphanage. This post is updated with new photos and slightly edited text. It seemed fitting to repost as I continue to process the experience of this last trip.

Because I’ve been asked this a few times in the last week, I’m devoting a bit of space here to answer it. It’s a valid question; I am the first to say that “volunteering at an orphanage” simply doesn’t cut it.

So, here’s a bit of a skeletal answer for you.

• We left the states on a Thursday and flew to China on a very long flight (14ish hours).
• We arrived in Beijing on Friday evening to a hotel with the best coffee.
• On Saturday, we visited the Great Wall and the pearl market to get some cultural experience, adjust to the time change, and spend some time together as a team before we start serving. Some team members tried to host a bowling tournament that night; only the two of them showed up.
• On Sunday, we returned to the Beijing airport and flew to Xian, the capital of Shaanxi (2 1/2 hour flight).
• We were picked up by orphanage staff members in a van a wee bit too small for us and drove another 2 1/2 hours to where the orphanage is.
• Every morning, we enjoyed a Chinese buffet breakfast at our hotel from about 7am-8am complete with noodles, steamed puns, and popcorn. We all became friends with the egg-cooking lady.
• Every morning, at 8am, we spent time together in one of our rooms to prepare for the day.
• At 8:30, the orphanage van picked us up at our hotel and drove us to the orphanage about 10-15 minutes away. We were always greeted at the door and given shoe covers and then ushered into a reception room for hot tea. After we sipped a bit, we divided up into our prearranged teams and went to our rooms of kids (we served in four different rooms organized by age from newborns through about four-ish. Each room had about 20 children.)
• From 8:30-11am, team members rocked babies, played with children, and built friendships with the working staff sans an interpreter…which is awesome. As the leader, I rotated around, spent a lot of time with officials, and pulled our team members with medical backgrounds to assess particular kids, etc. with the interpreter…which was awesome.
• At 11am, we gathered again as a team in the reception room and then walked over to a room in another building where the orphanage served us lunch (which was fantastic food).
• After lunch, at about 11:45, the van returned us to our hotel for a lunch break (why are we basically the only country where siestas aren’t the norm? Geesh.).
• At 2pm, we returned to the orphanage where we were always greeted at the door and given shoe covers and then ushered into a reception room for hot tea (you may be seeing a pattern here). The room teams would go back to where they were serving for the afternoon.
• At 4pm, we would all gather again and join a group of eager older kids ranging in age from 8-12 who were a part of the photography workshop we offered for the first time, thanks to the incredible photographer and personal friend Ben Leaman and his wife Abbey. (Another post forthcoming to explain the photography workshop in more detail, but I will tell you now that it was incredible.)
• After the photography workshop, we would leave the orphanage around 5pm and return to the hotel where we would drop off our things and then head out for dinner which was always an adventure.
• Every night after dinner, we would spend a bit of intentional time together as a team.
  Team members would promptly collapse…except for Ben who spent about an hour and a half every night editing photos for the photography workshop.
• When the week was over, we spent basically one afternoon in Xian and one evening in a glorious hotel with a shower that I wish I could have packed in my suitcase to take home with me.
  On Sunday, the team tearfully flew back to Beijing and then changed terminals to fly home. A few of us spent a few extra days there, but most everyone flew home then, 10 days after arriving and wondering if they would ever be the same.

Those are the summed up logistics, the entire trip in a little post in finite words with a whole lot of inherent gaps called “volunteering at an orphanage.”