The Wake-Up Call

Believe it or not, it is completely possible to become desensitized even on the mission field in a third-world country. Routines become routines, and going to work every day often feels  like going to work at a daycare or a preschool rather than a babies' home for rescued children.

This morning was typical. I woke up at 6:00 AM, and then again at 6:30. ;) 

I got to work at seven and greeted the sweet little faces that came to meet me at the door. 

Josephine, the nanny in charge of that particular unit, handed me a little boy almost as soon as I walked in. 

Sweet Baby is round, with big round cheeks and sleepy eyes, and he is cutting his first tooth. 

"He's new," she informed me. "About seven months old, abandoned and brought here yesterday. He is fine, no sickness, so he can be with his friends. But because he just got here, we must carry him for a full twenty-four hours."

Baby Watoto has a policy that new babies are held for twenty-four hours upon arrival. This lets the baby know that they are in safe hands and are not going to be abandoned again. 

So starting at seven this morning, I carried Sweet Baby, whose name I cannot include for privacy reasons.

Sweet Baby has been on a three-hour-milk schedule, meaning that he gets a bottle every three hours. However, he has refused every bottle since he arrived. After the thermometer showed he had a high fever, I took him to "The Pharmacy," which is a room set up in the nursery unit with all the medical equipment you could need at a babies' home. 

Rose, the nurse on duty, began to shake her head when I described the situation.

"Momma has done badly to such an innocent little boy," she commented as she nodded toward Sweet Baby. "Mommas used to be such good people, taking care of everyone. Now they have turned hazardous." 

I had to hold Sweet Baby down as Rose pushed a feeding tube through his nose, and I wanted to sob as much as he did. 

With as good of a condition that he is in- well taken care of, not malnourished or abused- it could very well be that Sweet Baby is only lost, separated from a good momma. 

"Unless he is HIV-positive," mentioned a nurse. 

Oh, my God. Is that an acceptable reason to abandon a child?

After we left "The Pharmacy," Sweet Baby and I went for a walk. I held his feverish little body close to me, lulling him to sleep as I attempted to process. 

Lord, why? I asked in my head for the billionth time since I've been here.

"Can a mother forget the child at her breast? Even if she does, I will not forget you," came the silent response. (Isaiah 49:15)

Baby and I cried. 

Sometimes, routines become routines, whether you are in the first world or the third world, America or Uganda, a daycare or a babies' home. 

And then comes the wake-up call, reminding you of what you are doing and why you are doing it.

<3