I’m a strong male. I make it a point not to get too emotionally involved in my ministry. There’s too much need to help everyone, too much desire in me to do something to change the world. You have to put up a bit of a shield because at some point you have to leave the hospital or the orphanage or the rehab center. God is their Father and their Provider, not me. I just try to reflect Him.
And sometimes, some kid manages to work his way past all your defenses. He doesn’t do it on purpose. It’s like in the cartoon. Did you ever notice that the Coyote is always defeated by the Roadrunner? But the Roadrunner is completely oblivious to the whole thing. He’s just living his life, eating his birdseed, enjoying the open road in the desert. Meanwhile the Coyote is smashed between a boulder and an anvil and a stick of dynamite.
That’s what that rascally Zhenya is, he’s a little roadrunner. He’s only a few months old, but he’s got big smiling eyes and a full head of hair. He rarely cries and he’s just able to get to a crawling position now. He’s a little softie and a cuddler. I know the kind very well, I’m a cuddler too.
We met Zhenya (the Zh is pronounced like the “s” in pleasure mixed with a “j”) at the abandoned baby wing of the hospital. He doesn’t look like an abandoned baby. He looks like he belongs to someone. He’s just too happy. He’s too loveable. How could anyone let this one go? I only just met him on Wednesday but I’m telling you, he’s a keeper.
My friend Rachel was in complete agreement. In fact, I had to ask her kindly to please not pick him up, because I wanted him next. She found him first, it’s true. She held him for a good part on Wednesday. But he was looking at me during that time. He was beaming with that big open mouth smile, silently saying, “You love me too, don’t you, Pastor Markus. Too bad only one person can hold me at once, huh?” I swear he was saying that with his eyes. Nonverbal communication, man!
So by Friday, I was already plotting. Can I just take him home for the weekend? December 7th is when Ukrainians celebrate Christmas. Shouldn’t Zhenya be able to go somewhere for Christmas. I kept asking these questions to Sonya. She speaks the language. Maybe she could pull some strings with the nurses. But no, Sonya had to maintain some respectability. She’s the professional among us.
But Rachel’s with me. We’ll think of something, I tell you. Rachel said that if we married Ukrainians, it would be easier to adopt him but she insists on joint custody or at least visitation rights if I go that route. We also investigated whether my coat was large enough to sneak him inside. (Note to hospital: No, I’m not seriously considering stealing your babies! These are merely the sentimental rantings of a defeated coyote.)
Anyway, my prospects look slim, as you can see. So when you come to visit me, you should be prepared for this sort of inner conflict. Meanwhile I’m going see if I can call and return this Acme Emotional Armor.
Below this entry are more pictures of Zhenya and the rest.

Markus

¶ 7:50 AM

Post a Comment