I’ve been away for a while. From writing, that is.
Even though my heart’s been brimming with all I want to say. And I find myself at yet another crossroad. A crossroad where I’m being asked to surrender it all.
I find this to be a hard post to write. Because how do you express the inexpressible?
Maybe an image will help.
The other day, Emma, the director of the orphanage where I volunteered in Cochabamba, emailed a couple of photos of the babies I’d cared for. We weren’t allowed to take pictures of the children while working there, so this was the first time I’d seen their precious faces since I’ve been back home.
I cried when I saw them.
Especially little Teresa. She was my favorite. But I loved them all. And not only for the short time I was with them. I still carry them in my heart. I suspect I always will.
It’s easy to love babies, isn’t it? Even when they’re crying inconsolably. I mean, for the most part. We just love them. Inexplicably. Even though they’re totally useless. They can’t do a darn thing for themselves. Completely dependent. Open and waiting. Helpless and vulnerable. They’re surrendered to us. And yet we love them even more.
Lately the image of those babies has been really speaking to me.
It’s a metaphor. My relationship with those babies. An image of something much deeper. A metaphor for my relationship with a God who is always loving me. A God who loves me most especially in my helpless, vulnerable, open, and completely surrendered place. And this love has been overwhelming and powerful and hard to fully take in.
And also a bit scary.
Because if I surrender completely, let go of all my roles and my self-images, my thoughts and ideas about who I am or who I should be, then what? Then who will I be?
It’s a place of naked vulnerability. Of meekness and humility.
And the “little me” wonders, Do you really want to go there?
All alone in my precious prayer time, when I go down into that deepest, most silent place within me, I know that the answer to that question is yes.
I know I am here to surrender to love.
And I know it’s OK that I can’t get there on my own.
As Richard Rohr says, “Authentic prayer is always a journey into love.”
I want to take that journey. Again and again and again.
A Journey of the Heart 
Pauline, you continue to warm my heart and soul. I love being a part of your journey and seeing you transform into the loving person and servant of God’s goodness. Thank you for sharing yourself. It makes those of us who witness it, better in the very depths of our being.
You are a precious gift to the needy and the vulnerable. You bring a warmth and love that is so needed.
May God hold you in the palm of His loving hand as you make these tough decisions and find your way. Thank you for being you, Pauline.
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Dear Pauline –
Absolutely one of your best posts ever – maybe my favorite of them all!
You have expressed the inexpressible so tenderly and openly and beautifully.
Thank you.
Love,
Rob
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Good day Pauline!
My name is Richard Elliott, and I’m on of the founding members of the Friends of Salomon Klein. Our non profit, 501c3, raises money and bring awareness specifically for the orphanage in the US. If you are still there at the orphanage, you can ask Mama Emma about us:)..
I’d love to get connected to you and discuss your experiences at the orphanage! We’ve been connecting with so many past children, volunteers and families who have adopted from all over the world. If you’d like to reach out, my contact information is richard@salomonkleinkidsfund.org. Thank you from our organization for you volunteering service!
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