Right There.

The team is home. They are home and safe. There were delays and missed connections, but coming home from where they were, these things pale in comparison.

Because this morning as I was reading their “goodbye” blogs, I was right there with them.

I was right back in that room on floor nine.

Right back to eating Chinese cake.

Right back to the children performing, the pictures being taken, and everyone forcing themselves to be happy, although we all knew the heart-wrenching moments to come.

I am personally not good at saying goodbye to those I care about.

And I care about those kids; more than I ever thought possible.

So “being” right there with them as they kissed the babies one last time, snuggled the bigger children, and hugged the nannies, I felt that pain.

The pain of trying to squeeze out every last drop of love in your heart to give to these kids until the next time we could visit, or better yet, when their parents come to bring them home.

The pain of looking into the eyes of the nannies and seeing tears.

The pain of the bigger children yelling “jie jie! Jie jie!” (big sister, big sister!) As if begging us not to leave while they tug on our hands, trying desperately to keep us there.

It hurts. So bad.

It’s a deeper hurt than almost anything I have felt in my life.

It’s the loss of another year as the kids grow.

It’s the grief over losing a sweet child who never knew a mama and baba.

It’s the sadness of knowing that some of these children will never know what it’s like to be tucked into bed; to not have a parent’s bed to climb into after a bad dream.

Walking away from these kids is heartbreaking.

Some of us cry outwardly, some of us walk away in a complete daze, but then burst into tears at the most random times in the coming weeks.

THIS is what it is like to leave these kids.

THIS hurt is what the team members are left to wrestle with in the first few weeks after being home.

Pray for the team, y’all.

Their mission is not over yet.

Because they were right there, in the thick of where God called them to be.

Right there, with the “least of these”.

And right there, loving these beautiful children and nannies.

Right there, where we all wish we could be again.