Her eyes were vacant and lonely. They stared past me and
everything else in the room. Hidden there was the story of the tragic childhood
she has endured. At 4 years old, and only 15 pounds she was a pitiful sight to
see. She was too weak to eat, too weak to talk, and just too weak. As I held
her hand, I couldn't help but think Lydia is just one year younger than my 5
year old, 40 pound daughter. My heart shattered to pieces as silent tears
streamed down my face.
As I got to know more about her, I soon came to realize malnourishment wasn't the only thing her frail frame was suffering from. Spending countless hours at the hospital gave me quite a bit of insight into the other diseases that were ravishing her body - tuberculosis, epilepsy, and HIV/AIDS. Dr. Guffey, the incredible American doctor that has recently joined our staff, told me I had picked a really hard child to fall in love with. She was literally days away from dying when we found her, and even with medical attention she had a lot to overcome and her chances of survival were slim. Despite the odds, and possible heartache it might entail, I couldn't give up on her. Something deep within told me she needed something more than the doctors could offer, and I took on the mission His Voice gave me.
![]() |
| I took this photo (and many others) for child services, but to protect her privacy this is the only one of this nature I am willing to post |
Day after day, I sat by her side and fed her. I held her hand as she was given extremely painful injections of the myriad of medicines she was on. I gently lifted her and put her into Selah's infant bathtub (which I brought because nothing in the Zambian hospitals is provided, I mean nothing - no towels, no soap, no blankets, NOTHING). I sat by her side and bathed her as she screamed in terror - seemingly unaware of what a bath was. As I held her in my arms after her bath, my heart again broke. She was nothing but bones, and the gap between the condition of her body and that of my Rylee was so huge! How could someone, let alone her mother, allow a child to get to this point??!!? I just don't understand.
Throughout each new and terrifying experience, I tried to
soothe Lydia in the only way I knew how. Often with my own girls, when all else
fails to comfort them, I make up songs. Mostly short and simple, but they seem
to enjoy them. So when her eyes went wide and she shrieked from fear, I did the
only thing I knew - I made up a song...
"Lydia, sweet
Lydia, you are so beautiful.
Lydia, sweet Lydia, the daughter of a King."
Lydia, sweet Lydia, the daughter of a King."
Even though she couldn't understand the words, I wanted to
pour truth over her. Truth that would sink deep within her and wash away the
lies that have filled her life. Her earthly father deserted her leaving her as
an unworthy and unwanted burden, and her earthly mother was denying her
nutrition because she saw Lydia's sick body as a waste of resources. But her
true Father saw her, loves her, and rescued her. In His eyes, she is so
beautiful - His treasured daughter, a princess in His Kingdom.
I sang softly in her ear...
"Lydia, sweet
Lydia, you are so beautiful.
Lydia, sweet Lydia, the daughter of a King."
Lydia, sweet Lydia, the daughter of a King."
The Truth will overcome, He will have victory here. And it
starts with a simple song I pray will be written on her heart forever.
(I plan to write an update about Lydia in our upcoming hard copy annual
newsletter, so be on the lookout via your mailbox - yes, they do still exist :) - and if you would like to be sure to receive a copy, but are unsure if we have your address, please feel free to comment or private message my FB inbox)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment