Anger and Guilt

I am angry.

I am furious.

I have so much rage built up inside of me right now I don’t even know how to process it.

I’ve been so worried about how I’m going to phrase this because I don’t want to offend somebody. I’ve been so worried about getting really passionate because it might put people off.


I am done caring about the petty, pathetic opinions of others around me.

While I’m sitting here quiet, kids are starving. Kids are dying.

This is nothing new to some people. Some people just don’t care. If all you do is read a post, say how awful something is, and continue on about your business as if nothing has changed, you don’t care. Period.

I feel like I’m screaming to a room full of people that can’t hear me. I feel like I’m trying to shake people awake who don’t even see that I’m standing right in front of them.

But really, it’s not that they don’t see me. It’s that they pretend not to. No one wants to face the realities of the world outside of our pretty little bubble.

We want to pretend we have issues. We want to whine and cry like spoiled brats about something as silly as a song. We want to pitch a fit just because someone looked at you funny. Here, we are obsessed with playing the victim. We don’t want there to be anyone else suffering worse than we are, because that takes the attention away from our precious little egos.

I am sick of it.

I am sick of playing into these stupid games. I am sick of being part of the problem.

I’m not going to sit here and beg you for money. I’m not going to give some infomercial sob story about “how three dollars a day could…”


I’m not even to that point yet. I just want you to see.

I want you to see this once beautiful little girl.


This is what happens when kids get left behind. This is the difference of two years. This little girl will now forever be stuck in this crib, although I hope she’s not suffering for long. I hate saying that. I HATE admitting that. But now there is nothing left for her.

She was left behind, and is now stuck in a mental institution where she is no longer cared about.

She will never know the love of a family. She will never feel the arms of her momma or playing catch with Daddy. She is now destined to be starved and ignored, or worse. If you look at her face now, it is clearly or worse.

She is now unadoptable. She is too old to be brought into this country, her chance is gone. This is her world now. This is the world that so many other kids like her face, and they don’t usually get a happy ending.

Now all that’s left to do for her is pray that she doesn’t suffer long.

It makes me feel sick.

The worst part about it? It’s my fault. I have failed her. You have failed her. We as privileged people have failed her. Back in the deepest recesses of our minds we knew what was happening, but we chose to ignore it. We chalked it up to things that happened on the other side of the world that weren’t worth our attention. She is part of a story no one wants their child to read because sad endings aren’t what the world is looking for. We chose to look the other way.

If you have a heart for these kids, and you actively work to help, no matter how small the help, thank you. But if you see this and just keep on living business as usual, you are part of the problem. Her avoidable death is as much on your hands as it is mine.

And then there’s Leilani.

Oh boy do I love this little girl.

This is a time-lapse of pictures of this gorgeous girl.


You can see her deteriorating, and it’s not at any slow rate.

This girl, this small, little thing, is now in an adult mental institution.

This is her now.


She is starving. Her diagnoses isn’t killing her, the lack of food is. She’s got little hairs growing over her body, trying desperately to keep her warm.

This little girl has a chance. There is a flicker of light at the end of the tunnel, and I just hope that someone can get to her in time.

And then there’s this place.

This place breaks my heart into thousands of little pieces. When I look at this page it makes me want to throw up.

This is just more proof how I’ve failed. How we all have failed.

These are the kids who have aged out.

This means that they had a chance, but no one got to them in time. These are the kids that will never know what it’s like to have parents. These are kids who will never be free, and will always be defined by what the world has said they are. I just pray they get a chance at life. I pray that somehow, someway, they will make a difference. But the reality is, in most of their countries, they’ll be thrown out on the street if they’re not mentally delayed. And if they are, their destiny is to remain inside locked doors, hidden away from the rest of the world, because they are seen as unwanted.

And then there’s the page no one wants to visit. It’s the dark place that buries itself deep in your heart and hides away, begging to be seen but always forcefully ignored.

In Loving Memory.

These are the kids whose parents didn’t make it there in time. Some of these kids I personally helped to advocate for, to fight for. Some of these kids had parents coming for them, but they just didn’t make it.

Look at their pictures, hard as it may be. Study their little faces. Realize and accept that they never had the chances that you and I had. They never had the ability to be who they were. On this page, I see so many little babies. So many little ones that barely even had a shot at life.

Every time I think about this I feel nauseous. I feel like the world has flipped me upside down and I’m going to fall and never hit the ground. Grief and guilt hit me like a hammer in the head.

My Roman could have easily ended up on this page. But thank goodness he is favored where he’s at.

The reality is, we all have a responsibility. Every single one of us. And especially those who call themselves Christians.

“Anyone who sets himself up as “religious” by talking a good game is self-deceived. This kind of religion is hot air and only hot air. Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight, and guard against corruption from the godless world”

James 1:26-27, MSG

In the New King James Version:

“Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.”

James 1:27, NKJV

If you call yourself a Christian and you say that you follow what God says, than you’d better well be doing your part to help.

If you’re not a Christian, you should still do your part.

If you can adopt, do it.

If you can’t adopt, support a child or a family that is in process.

If you refuse to support, then share.

It takes nothing to share. Just today as I was talking to a lady about apartments, I brought up what we’re doing and Reece’s Rainbow. She became intrigued, and now wants to get involved. Heck, she might just bring home yet another child from Roman’s country.

Even if you think you are too old, too young, not good enough, too selfish enough, there is always something you can do.

These kids have value. Their lives are important.

No, I can’t save them all. But the reality is if we all came together and everyone did their part, we possibly could. But sitting idly by waiting for someone else to step up only adds to the problem.

If you go back and live your life as if nothing has changed, as if this doesn’t affect you, then shame on you. Being ignorant is one thing. But ignoring the facts that are displayed out in front of you – that only puts their blood on your hands. You are not more important than they are.

I am sick of seeing political nonsense, self-righteous athletes, and shootings in the media. Not a single cause is more important than a starving child. Not a single one.

It’s time that we as a country get off our lazy, whiny butts and stand up for something. It’s time to get up and make a change in a child’s life, in your life.

There are so many ways to step up, there are so many ways to make it work, whatever you choose to do.

But please, don’t let this fall on deaf ears. You have to do something.


8 thoughts on “Anger and Guilt

  1. Pingback: 2017 Commitments

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