Chaniya: the saga

We had Just gotten home from Great Wolf Lodge. Our phone rang.  Danny Franks?  Why would a pastor from our big church be calling us?  Who knows? But you Answer. Danny launched into a long story about a single mom and her 16 month old daughter; would we keep her while mom is in the hospital?  "Sure", I said. Pause. "Really?", he said.

A few more details and about an hour later, I met Danny and his wife Merriem at the hospital.  Nisha was living at the city mission when her water broke at only 32 weeks pregnant. She found herself at the hospital on bed rest with nowhere for her daughter to go. Having grown up in foster homes, she was adamant that her daughter wouldn't go into foster care.  Frightened at the thought, she checked herself out and spent the night on the street after the mission turned her away for being a medical liability.  After coming to her senses and going back to the hospital, a nurse called our church. Someone in the orphan ministry recommended us.

So as I sat in the hospital room with this woman from another walk of life, I felt the Holy Spirit.  I could feel her fear. But I felt peace as I reassured her that I would take care of her little girl. I think Chaniya felt the Holy Spirit too.  She was so peaceful she fell asleep shortly after we left her mama!

Chaniya and I went to the hospital to visit her mom daily. With each visit, there were new questions asked of me. "Are you giving her enough to drink?"; "Does she cry when you lay her down?"; "Are you sure you're feeding her enough?"; "What are you feeding her?"; "Does she seem happy?"  At first, I was ok with these questions.  I knew her mom had no reason to trust me, and was just lonely, hormonal, and worried for her daughter.  But one night her mom told me she felt Chaniya was being mistreated.

My stomach dropped to my feet.  I stumbled over myself to tell her I was caring for her daughter like I would my own child. But that  I'd take care of Chaniya however she wanted me to, down to how I lay her down for a nap or what I give her to eat.  As we left that visit, I felt ill.  I was sad for how we were being viewed. I was really worried that we could be sued should something go wrong.  I was heartbroken for the situation. We just wanted to help.
The next evening, all five of us went to the hospital.  The visit was very strained.   Shann tried to start conversations that fell flat.  As we left, we heard her say "this just isn't going to work". And before we were out of the hospital, my cell phone rang.  She wanted her baby and she was leaving the hospital. After calling one of the pastors at church and getting some counsel, we walked back up to the hospital room. Shann layed out what would happen if she left the hospital with Chaniya. She had no where to go. She could have her unborn baby on the street.  Social services could take both of her girls. She listened, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Finally she handed me Chaniya. We prayed with her and left.

Divinely, the following day, I ran into a black woman we go to church with, and was on our trip to India.  I told her a bit of the story, about the feelings of mistrust and the volatility of the situation.  She asked, "Is she African American?"  When I said she was, she announced, "I'm coming with you to the hospital tomorrow."  Yet another black sister-in-Christ knew all about the situation, and had already had conversations with Nisha.  She called me that same day to tell me a few things. "You Will Not Fear!", she said. "You Will be at Peace. She will not play games with you.  You are serving the Lord by helping her. If she asks for her baby back again, you will hand her that baby and walk out!"  And much more.
I cried.  I was so relieved for back-up.

That afternoon, both ladies came to the hospital with me.  They were blunt. They were real. They laughed with her about the condition of her hair, and the white people shampoo that had been brought to her.  They poured forth 'street wisdom' and scripture that she needed to hear, and that I never could have delivered. They shared their stories about their rough beginnings.  We laughed about them growing up on the streets and me living on a street.  They chided me for being too soft.  They told her she needed to stop playing games with me...that if she asked me to bring Chaniya back to her again, that I would plop the baby in her lap and walk out.  Then it'd be up to her.  They told her that she needs to start trusting people. That accepting help will be the only way out. They told Nisha that she has a Choice.  It is up to her to step out of her darkness and come into the light.

I've never felt so white. I've never appreciated the colorful body of Christ like I did that day. And when one of the ladies walked me to the elevator and told me "You're my girl, and she's not gonna play you", I felt a oneness with her in Christ that was amazing. 

The remainder of our time with Chaniya was like daylight compared to Before. She continued to be the same happy, shy, sweet girl she had been.  But her mama was now thankful, respectful, and honestly, at peace.  I'm grateful to the Lord for walking us through those two weeks.  And I gained a couple of sisters.