Prayer and unsalted peanuts.

"Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my fathers house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." (John 14:1-3)



This week our orphanage was blessed with a new little boy! His name is Arjun, and he has one of the most precious faces I've ever seen.

Also one of the saddest. It's not a good situation that brought Arjun to us, not a situation that can just be wiped from his memory.

Arjun's step-dad passed away, and his mom took a job as a dishwasher. But with multiple children at home, she couldn't afford to keep all of them. Arjun's mom was faced with one of the most difficult choices I can imagine...choosing which child to give away.

A child that she created, that she loved and nurtured from birth. A piece of her heart. A part of her soul.

Her baby boy.

But she made her choice and brought Arjun to the pastor of a local church and left him. This paster is connected with our ministry and knew that sending Arjun to us would be the best situation for the little boy.

He arrived on Sunday, but I didn't get a chance to meet him until Tuesday.

I walked on campus and immediately noticed the small boy wandering around aimlessly. Listlessly. I grabbed some unsalted peanuts from our kitchen and walked over to him. When Arjun saw me, he sat down right where he was at and stared at me.

A blank, dead, sobering stare.

I sat down next to him, offered him a small smile, and handed him some peanuts. I began talking to him in Nepali, asking simple questions like, "how are you" and "what's your name" and "how old are you?" To which I received no reply. Just a stare.

I imagined to myself that, in his position, I would stare silently at the strange white girl, too. So I resorted to the next thing that popped into my mind: be silly.

My kids love it when I'm silly with them. So I continued talking in Nepali, telling him that since he didn't tell me his name I would have to guess.

"Sangit? Rahul?"

No response. I put on my best silly face, armed my self with a silly voice, and made up some new names to guess.

"Atticus? Edgar? Spencer?"

Nothing.

So I switched to his age, guessing ridiculous numbers like 87 and 69 and 105. Trying to garner some response, like a twinkle in his eye or slight smirk.

Still nothing.

The peanuts were finished and I was a little disheartened by his silence. So I told him I had to go to work now, but I would come say goodbye before I left.

I walked away puzzled.

After talking with two of our widows, I came to find out that he doesn't actually speak Nepali.

All that silliness, wasted.

He is from a village in the far west of Nepal and likely only speaks his mother tongue.

Since Tuesday, I haven't been able to shake Arjun from my mind. I haven't been able to stop talking with God about him.

I'm not sure why his story has gripped me so much more than the stories of our other children. Many of theirs are the same, if not very similar, to Arjun's.

Maybe it's because he's the first child to arrive since I have been here and I've never seen a child so void of emotion. I've never felt a child's hurt right alongside him. I've never carried a child's burden so heavily.

And I haven't been able to stop thinking about how hard it must have been for his mom to make the choice that sent him away. I'm not a mother to my kids and honestly I don't know all 63 of their names (well, now 64). But there is no way that I could look at these precious children and choose one to send away.

There's no way.

So I cannot imagine the heart wrenching prayers of that mother. The headaches from crying because she knows what she needs to do. The emptiness she will always feel as a result.

But I am thankful for her decision. I'm grateful that she gave Arjun to a pastor, and that he remembered Mercy Missions, and that he sent Arjun to us.

I'm thankful that God had already laid out the plan for Arjun's life. And that it led him here.

And I'm thankful for unsalted peanuts. Because without them, my first meeting with Arjun would not have had the same impact.

Thankful that I don't have to worry about being sent away by my Heavenly Father. I won't have to sit in anticipation, wondering whether it will be me, or one of brothers and sisters, that will be sent away.

I can rest in knowing that God has already chosen me. Not to send me away, but to draw me nearer to Himself. To use me as part of his will on earth. That He chose me as His daughter.

And I can rest knowing that God has chosen Arjun. That He brought him to us for a specific reason and that I get to play a very small part in finding out what that is.

And I'm thankful for prayer. That I can talk to God about what is burdening my heart. That I can cry with Him when I don't understand life (which is quite frequently). And that I can hear from Him and He calms my heart.

I will spend a lot of time talking with God about Arjun. Praying that unsalted peanuts would be the first step towards trust, friendship, and hope.