I don't know where to start. This is not easy for me. Three days ago I hugged goodbye 20 of my best friends. They looked me in the eye and told me not to go, as I broke their embrace and stepped onto a plane.
Their faces haunt me. Their faces flash through my mind. Daniel unable to be the tough kid that he is as tears streamed down his face. Marlon unable to look me in the eye. Little Carlos sitting to a side quietly whimpering. It was sort of like a funeral, but noone was dying.
I left a part of me with them. I feel a little numb. I feel a little empty. I feel very separated.
Those boys became my family. They were my friends, my companions; they were my sons.
God called me to "defend the weak and the fatherless", to "uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed." (Psalm 82:3). He called me to that mission from a young age; and I was blessed with two amazing years ministering to those boys. Over two years we shared so many tears, so many laughs; arguments, games, trials and adventures.
I arrived home and was unable to step into my own bedroom. It took me three attempts before I could. My mind quickly calculated the room as three quarters the size of a house where I know a family of six to live. I'm in a different world now.
I don't want to paint it all bad though. It was traumatic to leave my boys; but where their sad faces haunt me, I was relieved with the smiling faces of my family as I entered the airport. Years separated from my family has been tough, and I know that coming home is what I needed to do.
Two years working with 20 unwanted children. Some of them orphaned, some of them rescued from abuse, some of them abandoned in the middle of a night. Children that the world has forgotten, living out their childhood trapped in a concrete prison.
I remember back to my first day with them. I walked into a narrow long room where they were praying, and they stared at me with cold hard eyes. They weren't sizing me up, their eyes were just cold and hollow and distrusting. It was like I was an unwanted intruder. I introduced myself and made some awkward lame joke. No smile, blank faces, piercing stares.
The walls broke down so quickly though. A game of UNO, a funny accent, futile attempts to kick a soccer ball. They accepted me quickly, and I became their project. They trained me hard at soccer. They taught me to make my bed military style. They showed me how to sweep and how to get out of my bed at 4.30 in the morning.
From those first days my relationship with them deepened daily. Within weeks I became their house parent. I became the person there to protect and lead them, the person whom they trusted to guide them. I became their dad.
We shared experiences ranging from the most difficult to the most fantastic. My first months were fought out with endless behaviour problems and power struggles. But the changes came as time marched on. They weren't dramatic changes, like I'd seen on Mercy Ships. They were changes that came after much patience and time. At many times the frustrating slowness of the process made me double guess my ability to affect any change. But changes came. First the fighting stopped. The swearing stopped. The boys became calmer. I put relaxation music on for them to go to sleep, and someone commented on the peace in my room. Just small gains made over long periods.
Months later changes became more dramatic. Daniel used to run all through the canyon during homework class, as I crashed through the trees behind him trying to catch him. I had taken him to the boss' office saying that I was not capable with him. I was told to give him more time; and now I found Daniel studying. He seemed calmer. He had a softer face.
Duvan learned to eat. He arrived drinking water out of the toilet bowl and malnourished to skin and bones. He's still the 'flaco' (skinny) of our home; but so much more character now shines through him. He has a mischievous smile and cheeky sense of humour, and all the other boys love him. They help him tie his shoes in the morning and help him to shower, he is the baby of our house. He now knows how to pour a glass of water. He has a happier face.
They all do. Its funny, but even the boys recognise that they have had physical changes. I gave them a photo album before I left, and one boy showed me the drastic physical change over the past year. At first I thought it must have just been a bad photo, but then I realised that he was right. Each photo of him a year ago showed a face of anger and hardness and the photos of these last months show a face of joy and peace.
With changes in behaviour came more freedom in our friendship. Trips to the movies, camping trips and picnics. And of course our highlight; two trips to the beach. The boys smiles were shone more freely, and they became more open people. They would hug their school teacher or their social worker, and the staff would acknowledge that they were no longer such closed children.
They talked about compassion and forgiveness, and were encouraged by biblical heroes who were called to achieve great things. They identified with Joseph and David, people in whom noone believed yet whom achieved great things through faith. They memorised bible verses and learned to pray from the heart. They actually applied biblical principles to their daily lives. We would have meetings to discuss behaviour, and they would request for compassion to be shown to a friend who was not behaving well.
Part of the process included addressing the dark shadows of their past. I hugged kids as they tearfully recounted abuse, poverty, the death of their parents and time spent on the street. We prayed for healing of the past, for deliverance; and for the future.
I loved to see the changes I saw in my boys over the time I was with them. But I recognise that so much of the work still lays ahead. Please pray that He who began a good work in my boys will carry it on to completion. Pray that He will continue to guide them and direct them, and He will be ever present in their lives. Pray that they will not follow a destructive path. Pray that He will give them desires and dreams, and that they will realise the plans that He has for their lives.
To encourage you I would like to finish this with telling you something that I have learned over my three years on the mission field. I think what has impacted me most is how God can use the smallest of our actions for His good. I've realised that the mission field is not held for only doctors and ministers and church planters. I've found that God ministers through each of us in the smallest of interactions with those around us. A hug, a smile, a kind word and a good deed show His character and demonstrate His love.
Mother Teresa said that "we think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty."
"For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbour as yourself.” Galatians 5:14
That is a mission field that is available to us all, and to which we are all called to contribute.
