Large baskets by the roadside, dusty corners… dark alleys. My eyes are always peering intently into those forsaken locations, wondering if today is the day that I’ll hear a kitten’s cry and it won’t be a kitten. It will be a baby.

I don’t want to find a baby, and yet I do. I’d like to stay in denial that babies actually don’t get abandoned. I’d rather believe that they ONLY suffer in institutions, thrive in families, survive in foster homes and blossom in foster families. This would be so much easier to believe… if only it was the truth.

It’s a stereotypical “awkward” question from children, “Where do babies come from?” They ask because they want to know. I don’t ask where the orphan in my arms or in that bed came from because I do not want to know. And yet… I do so very want to know.

She was abandoned in a field… he was at the foot of a bridge… the local village, a hospital, the orphanage gate…. At the foot of a mountain….

…by the railroad tracks. That’s the one that gets me the most. Who abandons their baby by the railroad tracks? The hospital – I get that! A poor woman has just given birth to what should be a healthy son but instead it’s a weak baby girl who’s struggling for breath, looking quite blue and has a heart defect according to the doctor that would cost the family more than they could ever afford.

The culture here allows for borrowing and lending. I recently heard about a family who, when they discovered that their child was quite sick, spent every fen they owned. Then, as they cared for their child in the hospital, relatives went amongst one another, borrowing money. In the end, the child died. As the parents recover and grieve the loss of their one child, these sacrificial, unconditional-loving parents must work their fingers to the bone to repay their relatives.

A sick baby is born to a poor family. This is their reality, their situation and, ultimately, their choice. High-quality care costs a literal fortune and you must pay up front.

How high is life valued? I think that I can see an important yet devastating chapter to each little orphan’s story just by hearing about where they were abandoned. The girl abandoned at the hospital was meant to live. The boy abandoned in the town square was meant to be found. The baby in the flower bed was to know that she’s always been cherished… and hopefully will be found by one who loves. The little boy abandoned at the foot of a mountain was meant to be forgotten. The little guy by the railroad tracks… he was gotten rid of.

I want to throw up just typing it. A vibrant, healthy, living child was never intended to be found, to be loved… to be wanted. Of course I could be reading into the story a little bit or a lot, but in reality… he’s not a “perfect” baby and those imperfections could have been seen as negating his value as a human being.

I don’t know why I look for the babies. I think that maybe it’s because I have to prove that this sort of loss and pain exists in the world. But why? Why must something so awful be confirmed? This I don’t know. Could it be that God’s heart is for the fatherless and His eyes are on the little ones at the orphanage gate and in the flower bed and that His passion is to bring children to himself? When I look into the eyes of the children here, I see Him. I see Jesus, because in many cases… His love and care is all that they have to live on.

How much realer and truer is this for the one who hasn’t been found yet? What about the baby who was just given up, who has spent her first night in the cold without arms to keep her warm and a voice to keep her comforted? She has nothing, and if she had anything at all, it’s quickly escaping to leave room for the cold hard facts of the cold hard world.

But she has Jesus. That’s what I want to see; that is what I see.

I’m not looking for babies, I’m looking for Jesus. I’m looking for His love and His provision; for His peace and for His grace. I know that He has His eye out for each tender cry and delicate life.

I hope that I never stumble upon a bundled up child left by the roadside, hidden in a basket or at the public gate, but I do hope that I see Jesus in the eyes of every empty heart.

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When Hannah traveled to China in 2002 with her parents to adopt her sister Elisabeth, she fell in love with the country and people. In 2004, when her other sister Naomi was adopted, she started dreaming of going back. It took 5 years for that dream to come true. She now serves in a foster home for special needs orphans in China. Hannah spends her days studying, writing for the foster home and on her personal blog, Loving Dangerously, and most importantly, holding babies. Hannah loves the adventure of living overseas with her family. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

I’ll never forget the day that one of our staff called the office. He was out visiting orphanages and monitoring our Formula Project with another colleague, and had just arrived at a newer orphanage we had only recently begun working with. He called because there was a baby who needed help.

This is always how the story begins. There’s a baby who needs our help. And sometimes, sometimes we can’t say “yes” because we don’t have a bed available. Often we have to slowly set down the phone, saying a desperate prayer for the little one that may not make it. The decisions that directors, have to make every sing day can be gut-wrenching and painful. The need is too great, and we are only a small community of Chinese and foreigners working together to save them one at a time.

In each of the hearts of the staff at New Day Foster Home, there is a deep burden for the orphan. We’ve seen their faces, cradled them in our arms and cried tears of sadness and tears of joy as they’ve been through and overcome trial after trial.

We are doing something very special, and something very big. Here’s the goal: Raise $12,000 in 12 days for New Day’s Acute Care Fund. The Acute Care fund is what’s used when Lydia needs to be admitted into the hospital with pneumonia, for when Ella’s in PICU in respiratory distress and for while Alea was waiting for months in the hospital for a liver transplant. This fund is so critical for an optimum-functioning NDFH, and it’s getting a little bit too low.

Each day, starting on the 31st and ending on the 10th, we have been featuring a child who has benefited from the Acute Care Fund, or will benefit at some point, or just has a pretty amazing story that we want to share with you. We will have giveaways, sponsored by some very special supporters to NDFH, and we will tell the stories of children who’s lives were changed by New Day. We’ve gotten to hear from the adoptive mama of Cora, a little one who’s miracle made us gasp.

… and later we’re going to hear from the mama of Levi, who was adopted recently and brightened our lives with his fighter’s spirit.

We’ve had a lot of fun over the last 11 days of our efforts. At the end of the day tomorrow, we hope to announce that we raised even more money than we had thought, money that will help save a lot of lives.

Want to join in at the last minute here? Head on over to the NDFH blog and see the glory of miracles for yourself!

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When Hannah traveled to China in 2002 with her parents to adopt her sister Elisabeth, she fell in love with the country and people. In 2004, when her other sister Naomi was adopted, she started dreaming of going back. It took 5 years for that dream to come true. She now serves in a foster home for special needs orphans in China. Hannah spends her days studying, writing for the foster home and on her personal blog, Loving Dangerously, and most importantly, holding babies. Hannah loves the adventure of living overseas with her family. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

The nanny strokes the head lying in the crook of her arm. “You’re so cute,” she croons. Then to me, “he’s just unbelievably adorable.” I smile, and glance at the little one in her arms. He grins up at me, kicks his little feet… it doesn’t take long and I am smitten as well.

“Is he your favorite?” I ask. I learned early that when a child has been chosen as a favorite, a life is changed. Even in a place like this, where each little one is cared for equally, held for the same percentage of the day, and hears the same voices, the babies know that they are chosen.

I think that there must be something special, hidden deep inside each child’s heart, which responds to love. It’s like radar… their little hearts send out signals, searching for echoes of love from our own hearts. And when the beams collide, magic happens. The child changes, grows, flourishes. He doesn’t have to wait for a family; a nanny can help make that change.

“Of course,” she says. “But she’s my favorite too. They both are.” She’s referring to the sweet one in my arms… so sick, but so loved. This baby is my favorite, there’s no doubt about that. Just ask the nannies, they all know. I think that I chose her because she was hard; hard to care for, hard to love. Somehow, I thought that she needed extra love that I could give. She needed to be a favorite.

“They’re both my favorites,” she continues, “but she… she’s hard. Loving her makes my heart hurt.”

The look in her eyes speaks volumes, and empathy fills my soul. I know just what she means. Loving this precious one aches; it digs deep and pierces the tender parts of my heart. That’s what loving dangerously is all about, though, and I just can’t escape. I can’t escape from her… from loving her.

But it’s true, it makes my heart hurt. And it makes her nanny’s heart hurt too.

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When Hannah traveled to China in 2002 with her parents to adopt her sister Elisabeth, she fell in love with the country and people. In 2004, when her other sister Naomi was adopted, she started dreaming of going back. It took 5 years for that dream to come true. She now serves in a foster home for special needs orphans in China. Hannah spends her days studying, writing for the foster home and on her personal blog, Loving Dangerously, and most importantly, holding babies. Hannah loves the adventure of living overseas with her family. It’s not always easy, but it”s always worth it.