Abandoned-Orphaned (Paul Myhill)

Risky Business

"We were being followed in the market," our Burmese partner later told us.

That's why he disappeared into the vendor stalls and subsequently split off from us to take a different route to the children's home.

Despite (or because of) such precautions, he was subsequently stopped and questioned by authorities.

Our VP of Projects, Scott, had already figured out that we were being tracked, after noticing a man who showed up at the same places where we stopped – the border checkpoint, the coffee shop, the market. Not a coincidence, he thought. As a former fraud investigator, Scott has done his fair share of stake-outs and is acutely aware of such things.

Meanwhile, the rest of our group was being detained for over two hours at the Burma (Myanmar) border crossing and it was deemed too risky for them to join us at the home.

I had tried to visit this particular home a couple of years ago, attempting to cross the Thai border and traverse deeper into Burma to see the children of a rebel group that we helped rescue from forced conscription into the army. The Thai military coup just happened to occur on that particular day and all the borders were immediately closed. When governments get overthrown, countries don't particularly like people going in and out, and tanks in the street don't make for good tourism reports.

I was overjoyed to have the opportunity to finally see the kids, and very appreciative of the risks that our partners were willing to take for us to be an encouragement to them. For foreigners to visit orphans of the rebel group, in a country known for its prolific use of child soldiers, was risky business indeed. The Myanmar military dictatorship is extremely paranoid and very liberal in its metering out of punishment against perceived threats and infractions.

Through town, I kept looking out the back window to see if we were followed out of the market. The officials trailed and detained our host partner instead.

"Why are you associating with those foreigners?" he was asked.

"They approached me," he truthfully replied during his questioning. "They went their way. I'm going mine." How funny the truth can be sometimes.

We eventually sped down a nondescript dirt road at a rapid pace and kicked up a cloud of dust behind us that hid our entry onto the property.

Our partner met us at the home sometime later and almost immediately said that it was time for us to leave. We departed using a different route from the one that initially took us to the children. Memory cards and batteries were taken out of our cameras just in case we were stopped.

The young boys and girls, with rooms adorned with posters of Jesus and Manchester United, were worth the wait and intrigue. They will be change agents for the pathetic situation that their nation is currently facing. I long for a free Burma where such children, taken in by the Church, change the spiritual and political climate of the country.

Prayed Over. Preyed Upon

Satan has an uncanny way of contorting things intended for good into things intended for harm.

We just met with one of our partners in Hong Kong who shared a couple of very troubling situations he is presently experiencing in the Philippines.

The children under his care – children built into by the Church – are being preyed upon by sex traffickers. Two non-residential children have already been snatched up, disappearing into the dark void of relentless abuse and exploitation. Apparently these kids have become attractive targets because their "virginity is more certain." To be raised with purity has put them at increased risk.

In another vile twist, a vulnerable girl being ministered to by the Church is now more vulnerable than ever. Many poor Filipino parents endeavor to sell their daughters into the "entertainment industry" in Japan with the promise of seeing these girls send monthly income back to the family. On the surface, one little girl has seemingly become quite a success story - learning English, mastering a musical instrument, developing a beautiful voice, and participating as a lead on the worship team. When asked if she was proud of her daughter's skills and progress, the mother replied, "Yes, Yes I am. She will be able to get a good job in Japan."

This particular partner wants World Orphans to engage with programs and training to help the Church alleviate these types of unforeseen contortions.

We have agreed to visit the Philippines in August for this purpose.

Fee Fi Fo

I listened to the following song many times while riding in a Tuk Tuk around Phnom Penh, Cambodia, and after returning from a visit to Sway Pak, an area notorious for child prostitution. This despicable place is known to have offered girls as young as three years old.

Fee Fi Fo, She smells his body
She smells his body
And it makes her sick to her mind
He has got so much to answer for
To answer for
To ruin a child's life

How could you touch something
So innocent and pure?
Obscure
How could you get satisfaction
From the body of a child?
You're vile

He was sitting in her bedroom
In her bedroom
And now what should she do?
She's got so much insecurity
And his impurity
It was a gathering gloom

How could you touch something
So innocent and pure?
Obscure
How could you get satisfaction
From the body of a child?
You're vile, sick

It's true what people say
God protect the ones
Who help themselves in their own way
I often wonder to myself
Who protects the ones
Who can't protect themselves?

"Fee Fi Fo" – The Cranberries

Reversal of Fortunes

The home contained just over a dozen Vietnamese girls, ranging in age from eight to fourteen. Delighting in a game of Uno, they slapped cards down and laughed riotously at the dealing and receiving of success and setbacks. Reverse cards, those that change the direction of the game, went back and forth between a few girls, allowing them to discard more cards than the rest of those who were eagerly awaiting a turn.

I zeroed in on the image of the reverse card, two interlaced arrows pointing in opposite directions.

All these girls were identified as "high risk" and were rescued from having their virginity sold by their impoverished parents or relatives for $200 to $300. After that, a similar amount would have placed them into ongoing sexual slavery at one of Phnom Penh's hundreds of brothels thinly veiled as restaurants, bars, nightclubs, guesthouses, massage parlors and coffee shops.

There is little opportunity for the Vietnamese living on the waterways of Cambodia. Although they are a clear minority, they provide the majority of young children and teenagers - both girls and boys – to the Cambodian sex trade. Their fairer skin, combined with severe discrimination and poverty, makes them a desirable and attainable commodity in the prolific Southeast Asian flesh trade.

When I was in Cambodia last year I was told by a Vietnamese pastor that 30% of the waterway families have sold at least one child. On this trip, I was informed by the President of a child rescue ministry that 70% of the girls have been sold.

I looked at the dozen girls in front of me and tried to cast out the thought that 70% (perhaps 100%, given their high risk status) of them could be now serving up to thirty men per day, playing a very cruel hand that had been ruthlessly dealt to them.

Instead, I saw kids being kids, enjoying a fun game together.

The reverse cards flew down with glee.

Whisky, Cognac, or Girl

Overlooking the Mekong in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, we enjoyed an authentic local meal, complete with a mound of frog legs and whole-fried sparrows. The little birds are designed to be eaten head, beak and all. Wicker cages filled with them can be seen around Buddhist temples. According to tradition, one can purchase the freedom of a bird in order to bring themselves good luck. Of course, many of the birds have been trained to then return to their jailor, to be sold again and again.

The little birds before us had once been carefree and free. They had soared across the skies above the mighty Mekong and amongst the gold-leafed spires of the King's palace. But somewhere along the way they were caged, sold and devoured by westerners on a visit.

The analogy is not lost on me. After all, the evidence is plain to see – young girls who are purchased over and over by western 'tourists,' girls who are forced to walk hand-in-hand with middle-aged men bent on using their bodies for filthy pleasure. We travel the hotel elevators with them and see them in the restaurants and coffee shops. It is not hidden. Here, the cockroaches swarm in broad daylight, trawling the banks of the river for a fleshly catch, and casting out nets to ensnare the young sparrows in flight.

Once free, playing with home-fashioned dolls and dreaming of being a regal princess in the great palace, these girls' hopes have been dashed. Bought and sold. Caged and consumed up to thirty times a day.

After we finished our meal, the waitress asked if we would like "whisky, cognac or girl." After rejecting all three, she then explained that her boss makes her ask the question. I could only imagine the girls stored away in the back somewhere, just additional stock to be offered to restaurant patrons...additional sparrows to be devoured.

China Sang to Me

High on the sacred mountain
Up the seven thousand stairs
In the golden light of Autumn
There was magic in the air

Clouds surrounded the summit
The wind blew strong and cold
Among the silent temples
And the writings carved in gold

Somewhere in my instincts
The primitive took hold

I stood at the top of the mountain
And China sang to me
In the peaceful haze of harvest time
A song of eternity

I looked upon a presence
Spanning forty centuries

I thought of time and distance
The hardships of history
I heard the hope and the hunger
When China sang to me

"Tai Shan" – Rush

Yesterday, I ascended the Great Wall of China. A thin layer of snow covered the curving, climbing steps while bitter cold air entered as frozen daggers into my laboring lungs. I listened to the above verses on my Ipod and surveyed the ice-covered crags and peaks topped by a ribbon of granite. Watchtowers once stood as sentinels against invaders, but were now assaulted by armies of tourists bent on conquering them for Kodak moments and t-shirt boasts.

The land below me has certainly endured the hardships of history, but also the burdens of present. The hope and hunger is a spanning presence in the living breathing form of 20 million orphaned and abandoned children, a stain on the nation that no amount of snowfall and enclosures can hide.

And today, I walked the plazas of the Forbidden City, grounds once limited to the Emperor and his close circle. Now, throngs of people cast footsteps through the snow that accentuates soaring red columns crowned with intricate blue and gold friezes. Massive rooftops center silent, empty buildings steeped in grandeur and history.

Access to China's orphans by Christian-run organizations has long been relegated to those children suffering physical and mental deficiencies. After all, China didn't want its "best and most promising" influenced by "Western religion." Once a forbidden city and a great wall of separation, a new vista has finally opened up before us. Encouraged by an exceptional work led by a Chinese national, the government has entrusted one of our indigenous partners with the care of the brightest and most accomplished of orphans, children that can influence and change their nation.

In another monumental step towards new summits and freedoms, these children are placed into family-style homes that we have committed to fund. This is quite a departure from the government's favored scheme of institutionalization. Our partner and we at World Orphans believe that this loving family model, filled with children of great promise, will set a new course for orphan rescue and care in China, a new source of national pride and accomplishment that spans the entire country.

As a father to a former Chinese orphan, this is an amazingly emotional and gratifying moment for me.

Yes, a mountaintop experience even.

China sings to me. Perhaps she sings to you also...a song of eternity.

Conflicted

One of the girls here in the home in which I'm staying looks to be about the same age as my Chinese-born daughter, Faith – about eight years old. I assume that she's actually older than that, small for her age perhaps, but I made the comparison instantly.

These children just settled into their new apartment homes after being moved from a smaller complex near the bustling city. They started their first day of school yesterday, the day of our arrival here in China. Exciting new beginnings and exciting lives are ahead of them, and we're here to experience it. Lives of promise and hope. Lives of opportunity and fulfillment.

And, yet, I looked at this little girl and, reminded of Faith, wished that she, too, could be a part of my family back in Colorado. It's a strange feeling, I know, and I'm not sure what to make of it. She's much better off here, much better in her own culture, in the love and care of the house mother raising her as her own, in the caress of the Church that supports her.

She's an orphan no more, but I wanted to whisk her away to be another daughter to me...and sister to Faith.

China Calls

As I write this, I'm staying in a complex that houses just over fifty children outside of large city in China. Unlike your typical Chinese orphanage with hundreds of children matched with a dozen or so poorly-trained staff, the home is broken into multiple three-bedroom apartments. Each apartment has a house mother, or house parents in one case, who have committed to raise the children in their care over the long haul. Most of the apartments are home for eight children, purposefully spread out in age so that older children can help with the youngsters under the same roof.

As you know, World Orphans works exclusively with indigenous churches to rescue and care for children, or to be the mechanism to prevent orphaning and abandonment in the first place. With few exceptions, only the officially-recognized and highly-monitored Three Self Church is permitted to exist in China. The Three Self Church is controlled by Chinese authorities to differing degrees, depending on the particular city and region and the provincial governor's desire to forbid or overlook. Regardless, practically all Three Self churches have government agents in attendance to ensure that the message isn't counter-revolutionary to the communist regime's continued policies. As such, most of the Church (and Church growth) happens in the "underground church," bodies of believers that secretly meet in each others' homes and places of business.

It's 4:00 am here and all is silent in the housing complex. The live-in house mothers, who now care for the children soundly sleeping in the comfortable apartments down the hall from me, were all recruited from the underground church. These individual churches take love offerings to help support the work and, depending on proximity, will assist with volunteer laborers. It's not exactly the typical World Orphans model, but it's as close as you can get in a country of religious persecution, control and intolerance.

I'm reminded of how the Church rises up in such instances. Here, many abandoned girls, along with boys whose families were ripped apart by trauma, such as the devastating earthquakes that occurred recently in the Szechuan province, have been provided loving homes – not a bleak institutional orphanage - because the Church rose up in obedience to care for the orphan.

I often hear many excuses from churches in the West as to why they've decided to overlook the 30+ Scriptures that call on them to be the "helper of the widow and orphan."

"Well, you know, we're in the midst of this new building program and we're currently running over budget."

"We love orphans, really. But we simply don't have the people or resources to do anything about it right now."

"Sorry, the Senior Pastor isn't quite on board with this yet. Maybe we can talk again in a few months after things have settled down."

"You see, we just started this new sermon series and it's all about creating greater fellowship and being a seeker-friendly church. The timing isn't quite right for us."

"We give to the denomination. They handle that kind of stuff."

Tell such things to the small bodies of believers here who, under the threat of imprisonment or bodily harm, meet secretly, have little, and give much....for the sake of the hurting; for the sake of the abandoned; for the sake of the next generation. They don't care about new carpet colors or sound systems for the church. They aren't concerned about the layout of this week's bulletin or whether the sermon video is ready. And they certainly don't worry about petty programs and politics.

They simply live out Jesus to the children that He called to "let come to me."

Writer’s Block

OK, OK, I've heard all the comments...

"Why isn't Paul blogging anymore?"

"We miss all the blog updates from Paul."

"Is Paul even with World Orphans anymore?"

Etc., etc.

Quite frankly, there's more blogging than ever happening at World Orphans. You can check out the blog roll for all staff at: World Orphans News (WON). Be sure to subscribe so that you get multiple perspectives on our work from many workers, all over the world.

I'm humbled by it, but I do realize that there are a fair amount of folks that want to hear from me personally. The reality is that things have been happening so quickly at World Orphans, that it's been hard to keep up with it all. In addition, a breakthrough antioxidant product I developed a few years ago, Protandim, is finally enjoying some commercial success and I've been called upon to support it (Ironically, through blogging.) Add on top of that a new World Orphans Board of Directors, office move, budgeting process, ministry merger, a lot of related domestic travel, 4,000+ Facebook friends that message me, and the writing of a couple of books (will explain more on that later), and you have a scenario that has caused the Abandoned-Orphaned blog to suffer.

I'm in Beijing right now and, over the next couple of weeks, will be heading to Cambodia, Thailand, Burma, and Laos, as well as taking a trip back to China (Hong Kong) to meet all the regional country directors for Compassion International. I will be using the trip to smash the writer's block and restart the blogging process.

Thanks for your patience. I hope you find the words in my subsequent posts to be both challenging and encouraging.

Until They All Have Homes,

Paul
President – World Orphans