several weeks ago i was helping the nannies give the younger children their bottles. i like to help with feedings because the children's bottles are either handed to them (for the few that can hold them up) or propped up with blankets if they can't (majority of them). for the latter children, one wrong turn of the their head or body, and the bottle falls and/or the milk is now pouring (due to large cut holes in the nipples) onto their cheek/neck/bed rather than into their mouth. and there's no second chances; if the bottle spills all over, the only thing they are gonna get is a stern comment from the nannies and hope for a more successful feeding next time. i prefer to hold the babies to help ensure that the most fragile of the bunch get their much needed nutrition.
on the weekends, however, the semi-routine feeding time is often complicated by the school-aged children who are home and simultaneously seeking attention. this particular saturday they started (playfully?) hitting one another. then one girl started hitting some of the younger children on the head and messing around with their carefully propped bottles. i asked her to stop a few times and even told all of them to leave the room, but the older kids just laughed. the next time the older girl was reaching to hit one of the younger children, i grabbed her arm. i was planning to escort her to the door, but she immediately threw herself on the floor, as if to have a playful tantrum: laughing, kicking and refusing to move. i tried to pick her up, but couldn't (she's bigger than me). as she's laughing more hysterically, likely thinking she's engaged the foreigner in a new game, i am growing exponentially more frustrated. before i knew it, i was dragging her across the floor. yes, i drug her across the linoleum-like floor and out into the hallway.
somewhere between the seconds of me dragging her and the moment i released my grasp... i was convicted of my actions. as i let go of her arm i felt sick. although she was still laughing, one of the 3 year-old girls was crying; the events must've frightened her.
i felt horrible. i was ashamed. i was embarrassed by my actions. and worst of all, i didn't like that i had become just like them: the very nannies who are often the recipients of my judgement for how they do or don't treat the children.
but i was wrong. i hadn't become just like them, i AM just like them. i am sinful. they are sinful. we are (all) the same sinful people in need of a savior, and that is the ugly, beautiful truth! the only difference between them and i is jesus. any good that i do here at this orphanage (or anywhere, for that matter) is because of jesus. and any hope that i can have for impacting them, will only be because of jesus. he is the one who transforms us to be able to love in a radical way... or to be more kind in words, or more gentle in touch, or even more patient with 30+(!!) kids.
i apologized to the children immediately that saturday and then took a walk for some fresh air. i had to confess my sins to god, including my pride of thinking myself better than the nannies. it is still hard to talk about this incident and admit that i behaved in that way, especially when i'm here to love the children of this orphanage. but at the end of the day, i need to give glory to god for how he is both revealing and refining my character. i'm so thankful that his grace is sufficient for me! and that by the power of the holy spirit i can grow in patience and gentleness and kindness and whatever else i might need to demonstrate christ's love to the children and staff here.