An unlikely place. An unlikely orphan. An unlikely image of God.

In the Transylvanian mountains of Romania is a beautiful forest…a dark forest…called Padurea Neagra or Black Forest. Thick stands of trees allow only fleeting glimmers of sunlight to pierce the shade’s darkness. In the middle of a cleared area is a so-called camp building. In reality, it is a two-story concrete relic from the communist era when it was a school building. A banner hangs from one of the many windows…Tabara Bucarie…Camp Joy. And, it is Camp Joy for many of the orphans who spend one week here with the Loving Arms team from Colorado. One week away from the meanness and abuse of the state orphanage nearby.

It is twilight now and the evening program is over. Outside the camp building a cool breeze refreshes the humid, hot air of the day. A small boy sits on the step, crying. The orphans cry a lot at camp because of their memories of abandonment and cruelty. Another boy walks over and puts his hand on the crying boy’s shoulder. This second boy, Adi, kneels and prays. What is spoken is known only to God.

Adi is an unlikely boy to represent God’s love, His gangly body moves awkwardly. He appears to be mentally limited because his teeth protrude at different angles from a misshaped mouth. No one expects much from Adi. Yet, Adi offers much during this week of camp. He falls asleep in his bed singing praise songs to Jesus. At other times, he can be seen on the back patio kneeling and fervently praying.

One night Adi asked the camp leaders if he could lead the evening program. Hesitating, but willing, the leaders said he could. When Adi showed his program plan to one of the camp leaders, he had picked out nineteen songs and had prepared a forty-minute message. All this from this unlikely teenage boy. He was encouraged to shorten the program to five songs and his message. That evening thirty orphans, volunteers and translators listened in awe as Adi eagerly shared his faith.

Those of us who visit the orphans at the orphanage know that Adi is terribly abused by the tougher, older boys. When asked, “Adi, how do you stand it?” he answers, “I can take suffering because I know Jesus also suffered.”

During that week at camp, we experienced in Adi an unlikely image of God.