You can today.

Hosting an orphan child to live with you and your family over a summer or winter break will literally change the world!  For sure – for the orphan child, and probably for your whole family as well.

How can that change the world you ask?  In ways you can scarcely imagine. Read any of these stories here. Hosting shows love, which most of these kids rarely experience, even for a day. Hosting brings caring for others that are less fortunate from an abstract idea – to a living, breathing reality of a real child that just needs to know that they matter. Hosting builds self esteem, confidence and bonds and connections, that last forever.  Hosting changes lives!

Matt and Brittney Hejl

Hejl’s Hosting of Andriy – 2015 P143 Winter Hope Program

Day one and we were SO excited. We were not even sure what we were excited for or how long that excitement would last. A plan on the brink of unfolding is exciting! It’s also emotionally overwhelming. But when God directs, you follow. We’re human with our bits of nervousness too. I just wanted to hug him so tight right off the plane, but knew that probably wasn’t the best idea.

The double doors at the international arrivals gate opened approximately 176 times and not one time did our host kid walk through it… until the 177th time. When that door opened, time stood still for a second. Then he looked at us, he smiled that shy smile and then he looked down. Eventually he walked over to us and my husband asked, “How are you?” Our host son surprised us by responding, “I’m fine.” Hold UP, this kid speaks English? We snapped the required arrivals photo and left. Just like that. It’s a bit like leaving the hospital for the first time with a newborn. We had this kid who we knew virtually nothing about, who we weren’t even sure could carry a conversation and people had trusted us to walk out of an airport with him and return 4 weeks later. That’s mind blowing y’all. A few stops and then we were home. We showed him his bed and his things. We noticed him limping a little at the airport so, once home, he took off his shoes. We saw two large blisters, one on each foot. The boy with blisters on both feet, who brought US a gift and was exhausted was finally here and about to go to sleep IN OUR HOUSE. Arrivals day wrap up… mind blown. That is all.

Weeks passed and love grew. Late night talks, daytime tickles, giggling, grinning and 42 hot dogs later we fell in love and we fell hard. We talked about God and that he created the world. Later on, I asked him if he’d heard of Jesus. “What’s Jesus,” he said. I explained He was God’s son. He then said, “What’s a son?” I explained that our boy was my husband’s son. He understood. I explained that we believe Jesus is God’s son that He sent to the earth for us. Of course he asked why. Here we go, try to keep it together. Again, our conversations were basic because of his age and I’m no theologian and he’s still learning English. I did my best to explain that GOD is GOD and can do ANYTHING therefore he allowed Jesus to die for US but then come back to life again and we believe that we must ask Jesus into our heart. I think he understood. The next day, while waiting in the car to pick up a prescription, he said from the backseat, “Mother I’m ask Jesus in my heart.” That is why we did this, to share the love of Christ with a child. While sharing OUR love with our host son, God put a new hope in him. I am prayerful for his little heart, that he truly understood his decision and that he grows to love Jesus and share that love with others.

On departure day, I’d look into the backseat and, “Mother I’m love you,” is whispered from his squishy little lips. I’m still holding it together. Get into the airport, meet the other families, time kept ticking and my husband is giving our host son a hug and tears are streaming down his face. Cue me, no longer holding it together. We hugged him tight, I said, “never let go.” Never let go is something I told him to think anytime he felt sad about not being with us because we would never let go. Each night he would squeeze me so tight and say, “Mother I’m never let go.”

As Matt and I headed out to the parking lot, we cried. For a moment I wondered if it was right to do this. But, to not do it so that they wouldn’t hurt is to allow these children to possibly never feel love. Love is heavy. It’s heavy when it feels good and it’s heavy when it leaves our body dripping down our cheeks. Love is heavy.
We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19) God is not done here.

“In You the orphan finds mercy.”

Hosea 14:3

SAFE HOUSE

By Angie Stolz

I had always heard the term safe house. Obviously it meant a house that is safe. That seemed surreal to me. I could never a situation where I’d need rely on strangers just to remain safe. Surreal became real last year in Haiti while on a mission trip. Quarantined to the orphanage, the threat of danger was all around us. Rioting had begun and streets were blocked. We had gone to take provisions and hope and there we were, helpless, dependent on others. Advised to leave the orphanage earlier than planned, we gathered our things and left, finally seeing for ourselves the fires, debris and armored men. Detours through the jungle, over tiny ledges, hugging hills, bridges out, stopping for no one, whisked away to a safe house. Gates, iron bars covering doors and windows, we could not leave because of the rioting. We knew no one at the home, didn’t speak the language, but they were kind and provided us with a place to bathe, eat and sleep. We were never more thankful but we had so many questions about our future. Truth is, that safe house is a lot like a host home. Is your door open to someone far from home, who need refuge, a safe haven and protection? Like us, a host child may not show immediate joy on his or her face, they may be scared and confused. You can be sure, host family, you are the safe house that is needed this Christmas.

https://julietvanheerden.com/

I fell off the wagon today. I worked for nine hours at school. It’s Sunday. Yes, work is often my drug of choice. Some numb with food. Some with drugs, or media. I numb with work. As a teacher, it’s easy to do. I didn’t want to come home. It’s too quiet here. I can see the boys’ shoes lined up underneath the sideboard near the front door. Even though they are naughty for leaving them there, I smile. They must have unloaded those when I wasn’t looking and replaced that space in their suitcases with Nerf guns or remote control cars. Taking the shoes into the tiny bedroom that used to be my office, I line them up against the closet door. I’ve barely been in here since they left. The room is a disaster. And it smells like teenage boys. But, that’s not what keeps me away. What keeps me away is the raw emotion I experience when I think of the two boys who shared this space for two months. What keeps me away is the longing to come in here and say, “Goodnight,” when I know their bunks are empty. What keeps me away is the ache I experience when I sit here trying to imagine what they are doing tonight. It helped to just be in a sterile space today: organizing and arranging and sorting and grading and planning. It helped to be away from home where the bananas are turning brown before my very eyes. This would never happen if the boys were still here. Away from home where I know I need to wash their sheets and clean their room. But if I wash everything I might forget the scent of their space in our home. If I clean and tidy every evidence of them away, will they disappear from my memory, too? Our Father knows each little one by heart. He knows our scent, our secrets, and the very number of hairs on our heads. He says He knew our names before we were born (Jeremiah 1:5). He knows our pasts and our futures. He knows the plans He has for us (Jeremiah 29:11). He knows these kiddos, too. The ones we long to hold in our arms again. When we connect with Him, we connect with them. My summer boys are gone. The one who paused the movie we were watching to inform us there is “war in Ukraine.” Using Google translate I ask if he could hear the gunfire from his school, to which he replied, “Yes.” After ten weeks of unending energy, eating, motion, noise and chaos – silence. Can I now practice what I preach, Lord? Do I have the faith to trust You with them? Ten weeks ago, they were strangers. To each other. To us. None of us knew what to expect. Are they to become one more casualty in a pointless war? Another kid on the streets when an unfair system ages you out? I cannot bear to think of it. You are not just some random orphaned boys. Your spirits are kind. Your minds are bright. Your prayers are heard. Your hearts are loved. Your home is here. Trusting His plans for our newly empty nest.

Heather Martin

Hosting Winter 2015

Being fresh off a hosting experience, I’d like to chronicle what I noticed. Right off the bat, people were in awe and eager to celebrate us by putting us on a pedestal. This was both good and not good. Good because, for a moment, an orphan was given the stage! No longer is she sitting alone in the darkness, a community finally saw her meager existence among the 143+ million others. She finally existed in the minds of people beyond orphanage walls. For this moment, a curious community could be the means of her chance to escape. So, we’re thankful for the stage for her benefit. Hearts are stirred, God provides an opportunity to love in action. Let’s flip the switch! We shouldn’t be on a pedestal; we are no better than any onlookers. I kept hearing how “wonderful” we were. Let me come clean, we are not, we are humans who want to push the easy button. The only reason we accomplished a month of hosting was because GOD purposed it. I want to be REAL, not celebrated. Supported and encouraged is necessary, but hosting isn’t about being a perfect family. A perfect God enables imperfect people on this journey. He allows us to be stretched, uncomfortable, tired, numb. He allows us to take part even when He knows we won’t do it 100% like He says we should, because we can’t. Why do we fence ourselves into comfort? Why are we happy to splash in puddles when there is an ocean to enjoy? Abraham did not do this. Noah did not do this. We are forfeiting our blessings. The Lord opened our eyes to the stark difference between the manger and our American Christmas. If you are praying for the opportunity to be missional this Christmas, hosting might be purposed for your family.

Hosting is unlike any other form of advocating for orphans. It is letting them into your life, your family, and that fragile place in your heart for just one month. It is beyond risky, and all you can do is pray. Pray that you are doing God’s will. Pray that He will work out everything for good. Pray that God will reveal the truth that may not always be visible on the surface. You step out in faith and commit to a photo. The only way to choose is by praying. God knows exactly who he wants to be in your home and if you ask he will show you who. For my family, it took weeks. There were hundreds of photos and profiles on two different websites and a total of four different countries. My mom finally gave me a few of her favorites and left the final choice up to me. After all, this person was going to be sharing my room and invading my space.  It was hard. I had a lot of pressure on me. All I could do is pray. In the end, I found I had one choice: a fourteen year old girl from Latvia. She was the one that I kept coming back to. She had all of our preferences. For example, she was a teenage girl, her profile said she wanted a family with children and that she had experience working with special needs children. Last, but not least she was a Christian. She was the best choice for my family. She is here with me now. Sound asleep on the bottom bunk. Since the first day she has fit into my family perfectly. She is my little sister (although she is not little at all). This has been my best summer ever and it is not even over yet. I only have three more weeks of this joy before she leaves. I have learned so much from this experience. The most surprising discovery for me was that I could survive without down time and equally surprising the lack of desire for time to myself. She has taught me that I could get close to someone even while knowing for a fact that it will end painfully. She has taught me that following God’s will is more than worth it. God has a plan for her and this summer may only be a small piece of that plan, but I am grateful that God allowed us to be a part of that. I do not know how this will all end, and I do not need to because I know it is in God’s hands. This is faith. This is serving God. This is hosting an orphan.

The Lucas Family

Written by teenage daughter Corina

Summer 2014

THIS IS HOSTING

THIS IS HOSTING

Journal Notes: 2014

What is hosting? When my family spoke of hosting an orphan I could not imagine the difference it would make in my life. Hosting is an avenue to defend, support and advocate for a child who has no one. It means letting a parentless child into your life, inside your family, and most of all into that fragile place in your heart. It is beyond risky… and with this risk came a humility that left me leaning on God. After all, the road we were beginning to follow, even if for only one short month, was a journey I had no control over. You see, I am not a host parent but the biological daughter, a mere teenager. All I could do was pray.

I prayed that we as a family were doing God’s will. I prayed He would work everything out for good. I prayed that God would reveal the truth that may not always be visible on the surface. And through prayer, my family stepped out in faith committing to a photo. How would we know which orphan to choose? There were hundreds of photos and bios and several countries to choose from. It took weeks for my family to decide.

My mom finally approached me after select a few children and left the final choice to me. It was a decision I didn’t take lightly and one that left me feeling quite anxious. This person was going to be sharing my room and invading my space.  It was hard. When I relied on God, the stress I was feeling was lifted and it became clear to me there was only one child on that photo listing for us. A fourteen year old girl was the one my mind kept returning to day after day. She was a teenage girl, like me, and her bio said she wanted a family with children. Her bio also said she was a Christian and so was I.

Since the first day she arrived, she blended into our family. She became my little sister (although she was not little at all). It was the “best summer ever” because of my new friendship.

The only sadness I experienced was realizing the host period would end. I thanked God for bringing her into our home. I have learned so much from this experience, more than I could have ever dreamed. I was surprised at how well I could survive without the ‘alone time’ I was accustomed to. She taught me that following God’s will is more than worth it. God has a plan for her, this I know, and her summer may only be a small piece of that puzzle. I do not know how this will end but I am certain it is in God’s hands. THIS is faith. THIS is serving God. THIS IS ORPHAN HOSTING.

When Maternal Instinct Kicks In

PROJECT 143 host mom, Daron Northrup, rushes to her host child’s side half way around the world, when she receives the news of his accident. A fall from a thirty foot tree left him with a severely broken leg, three surgeries and despair and desperation in his voice. Dropping everything, her motherly instincts kick in and she is soon on the way to Ukraine. Broken and lost, se finds him in a little room no larger than a closet. He can hardly move due to his injuries. She is devastated at the conditions of the hospital, the tiny room and plywood bed… the ancient contraption used to stabilize his leg… the whole situation seems surreal. No one to care for him, not even a nurse. No one to ask questions on his behalf, not even a mother. Daron is overwhelmed with compassion for this orphan, this child, her host son who was only to arrive in America in a few weeks for his visit with their family for the holidays.

The standard of healthcare in Ukraine is in an extremely poor state. The severe lack of medical facilities and medicines are only half the problem. The standards are incomparable to that of the United States with some of the medical staff having completed only half of the training required. The neglected equipment and facilities are in short supply compared to the high demand. The dirty hospital and the low level of care due to staff shortages is incomprehensible. The war in Ukraine is taking it’s toll; and undeniably the sick, injured and orphaned are affected the most.

A P143 Host Family Rushes to orphan’s side in Ukrainian Hospital.
Daron stays with her host son for over a week. Nursing him, hugging him, reassuring him everything will be okay. The dark circles disappear from under his eyes. She helps him eat, sit up, walk and bathe. His strength returns slowly, little by little. She seeks out a set of old wooden crutches and teaches him how to use them. Stiff from the time spent lying flat on his back – she begins some minor physical therapy exercises to help him improve. The smile returns to his face. He is not lost or forgotten. Someone cares. He is loved!

This story resonates deep within each one of us. We’ve all been there, feeling lost, overwhelmed, helpless, and forgotten at some point in our lives. Daron’s journey to be by his side sheds light on many things of which we already are aware; we just tend to put a label on it and put it in a back closet to be forgotten. The plight of the orphan hasn’t changed. It still remains the same today as it did years ago. EVERY CHILD NEEDS HOPE. Every child needs a family. Every child needs to feel loved.

The need to host an orphan from Ukraine looms larger today than ever before with war scarring children who already have very deep wounds. And the hospitals? We can’t go on with our duties to help the orphan and in the same breath ignore the lack of sanitary conditions and shortage of proper equipment the hospitals in Ukraine so desperately need.

Project 143 hears their pain, and we feel you will to. Can you give your time? Can you donate a grant? Can you open your home? Will you share your family? Reach out to Daron, ask her about orphans, hosting, Project 143 and stepping out on faith. She will be glad to help you. Daron’s Email: [email protected]