One of the things Chris and I were warned about over and
over again when we joined this ministry was the possibility of runaways. Part of Abba’s Heart is a residential program
for boys who have been rescued from the streets. In order to be given this opportunity, the
boy has to show a true desire to leave where he is and work hard to make a
lasting change in his life. It seems
like a no brainer to us: you’re given a new chance at life. You have a warm bed, three meals a day, the
opportunity to go to school, adults who love and pour into you. Why would you EVER want to leave? But, as we were warned from the beginning,
there is something that pulls these
boys back to their former lives. Whether
it be the addictions they can’t kick or simply the desire to be “free” and
independent. After years of living on
the streets by their own rules, sometimes the simple act of listening to
authority can be an almost impossible task.
When Chris and I arrived in January, there was a new boy who
had just been brought off the streets.
He was about 19 years old, had a contagious laugh and was THE BEST
checkers player ever. All the other 9
boys had been living in the house for at least one year, but he came in
December 2016. He was one of the two
boys I had in my homeschool class. He
struggled a lot with English and writing, but he was extremely good at math and
had a strong desire to improve in his reading.
He really enjoyed music class with Chris and was even working with a few
other boys to write some worship songs.
Things seemed to be going well.
But then, one Friday in March, Chris and I came back from
teaching at the Learning Center and found out he had run away. Gone back to the streets. Gave up his chance to have a better
future. We were heart-broken. And angry.
Angry at Satan for telling that boy lie after lie. Because we know that’s the ONLY reason he
would’ve gone back. It’s the only reason
any of them go back.
After months (or years) of sleeping outside on the streets,
begging for food, and wearing dirty, torn clothes, residential centers like
Abba’s Heart are fun. At first. It’s like a vacation from their real
world. But what we’re learning,
especially about other centers around Zambia, is that most boys come and go
when they want. They come, eat a few
meals, get a good night’s sleep, and then leave when things get hard or they’re
tired of the rules. But most of them do
go back. Why? Because they believe there’s something better
or more fun on the streets. They miss
their friends. Or they miss the thrill
of working and making money that they can spend any way they want. They miss the sticka (the inhalant most of
them are addicted to). They miss
freedom.
Because of this mentality, Abba’s Heart has a pretty strict
no running policy. Once a boy runs, he’s
not allowed to come back. If they made
an exception for one boy, it would give every boy the leeway to run back to the
streets for a hit and come back when they wanted. It just doesn’t work with these types of
programs. Because of this rule,
inevitably every boy who HAS run has very quickly regretted his decision. And that’s exactly what happened to our
recent runner.
About two weeks ago, Chris and I saw him in town for the
first time. From the moment he left, I
dreaded this day. Seeing him back on the
streets. Understanding, probably more
than he did, the impact of the decision he had made. He talked to Chris and another missionary for
a long time before coming over to me.
Chris said he wanted to tell me something. With tears in his eyes he looked up and said,
“I’m sorry.” He went on to explain how
grateful he was for the time I had taken to teach him how to read and how much
he regrets what he did. He said over and
over again, “I don’t know why I did it.”
I tried to hold it together and tell him that we still love him. We’re still praying for him. This doesn’t have to be the end of his
story. God is still with Him, even
though he made a mistake. Even though
things seem really dark and hopeless right now.
And I believe it. I HAVE to
believe that there is still hope for this boy.
Working with street boys can seem REALLY hopeless at
times. Like you’re wasting your
time. I can’t tell you how many times I
have looked at these young men and screamed/asked God, “Why?! Why does THIS have to be the story of their
lives?!” It seems so pointless. A young life totally thrown away. Days spent being high and begging for scraps
of food. Working with street kids has
made me long for heaven in a way I never did before. I long for Jesus to come and do away with
this broken, hurting world. To bring
light back to these lives. To set things
right.
Working with street children has also shown me something
true about myself. I look at this runner
and I wonder, “Who would EVER run away from the gift of a safe home, free food
and loving environment? Why would anyone
EVER want to go back to the streets after receiving such grace?” And then the truth smacks me in the face: I
am that runner. How many times in my own
life do I run away from God’s grace?
Every day He offers me blessing upon blessing. Provision.
Peace. Courage. Healing.
Direction. Meaning. Joy.
Fulfillment. And SOME days, I
accept His gifts with gratitude. But
most days, if I’m being honest, I choose to run away. I choose to go back to the streets and fend
for myself. I convince myself that I don’t want to live under
someone else’s authority; I’d rather be in control of my own life. I choose to
beg for those things in other places. I
end up feeling empty, dirty and cold…just like those boys on the streets.
Today I am grateful to a God who uses so many different
circumstances to show me the truth about His love. I am grateful for second chances. And third chances. And a million more chances. I’m grateful that I have a Father who knows what
He’s doing, even when it doesn’t make sense.
Please continue praying for Chris and I as we learn more
lessons along this journey. Pray for our
eyes to be clear. Pray that we would be
open to receiving all God has for us in this year.
And PLEASE join us in praying for this precious young
man. Please pray that God would be
working on his heart, no matter where he is, and that somehow he would find a
way to get off the streets. We know it
seems impossible, but we serve a God of impossibilities!
