i've ruined all chances of future card games

it is about 1:37 am. most nights i would be nestled warmly in my bed dreaming of chalupas and cokes with unlimited refills and enough ice to construct an igloo which would comfortably house an average sized inuet family. i have strange dreams. don't judge me.

all that to say, i should be asleep. sleep, however, shan't come easy. a couple of hours ago, i completed an intense game of phase 10, a game at which i shamelessly and openly cheat. my good friend seth and i get along splendidly, that is unless we are playing skip-bo because i cheat and try to move his cards for him. my brother and i once got in a stupid and petty argument over certain technicalities in the scoring of a little game called rook. if you play any game where a banker is needed, you'd best not assign that role to me. i will launder money. i do this because these games don't really excite me. i will attempt to draw others into my web of deception and horrible gamesmenship and it works more than not.

this stems from childhood wounds i incurred from two people who shall remain nameless, let's just call them my brother and sister.

uno

this is a word which did not escape from my lips as a child. why? because they made up their own rules. they crafted rules which made it impossible to compete. i had no defense. i was young and impressionable. it is the curse of the little brother. now i inflict my wounds on others. i am a sad individual. i know this to be true.

but there is more keeping me awake besides memories of gaming gone awry.

in the neighborhood of 30 some odd hours i'll begin to travel to america, a place where there are no cats and the streets are filled with cheese. it is amazing that this point of time has arrived so quickly. it is a definite landmark. shall we reflect?

indeed we shall.

i leave here feeling close to the guys. we have been through a lot together. we have grown together, individually and collectively. i'm no longer this random guy to them and they are no longer a bunch of names and pictures. they are a part of me and i of them.

which leads me to this thought: i am extremely worried.

i don't know what is going to happen at this point. with these guys, things could go wrong at any moment. they have all made so much progress but that could all be lost on some stupid choice. and i cannot help but wonder if my leaving will somehow enable them to make that stupid choice. they have such potential. to see them waste it would be a tradgedy.

today we had a hard talk. we've had many of those. i had to remind them that they have a job and they are expected to live up to the expectations we set together. the last week or so, they have not done this. so we confronted it, we got it out.

during the course of the conversation, their heads dropped. eye contact became a thing of the past. the conversation was rough on all of us.

whenever we have these talks, they will end with one of them pleading with me not to be angry. they are so terrified that i will stop loving them because of what they have done. they live in fear of that. it messes up their world to have people who have cared about them upset with them.

tonight was no different. the words "i'm not angry dima, i'm worried"came out of my mouth. their faces changed and their posture followed suit. for a moment they got it. for a moment, so did i. i'm not pushing them because i think their worthless. i'm pushing them because they have great worth. when i see them making wrong choices, i'm not upset because they are not living up to what i think they should. i'm upset because there is so much more for them. life can be so much better than what they think it can.

God loves us.

He actually loves us.

in that furious, pure love God longs for us to claim the life He has provided in the resurrection. life could be so much better than we think it could. it could be better because Christ is better, better than anything else we could find.

i've known and classified that as true for a while. encountering it is totally different. i'm starting to feel that truth in my gut and i like it.

in, seven hours i'll be at the orphanage or i'll owe artur one million dollars (he likes me to be on time). it will be my last day with them for a while. it is a day that holds unknown emotions. pray for them. i urge you. pray for them. pray for anybody. just pray.

and mean it.

also pray for my card playing habits, of which i am a tid bit ashamed and for which feel moderate contrition.