So Will I.

It’s been almost one entire year since I wrote in this blog.  Between a six month furlough in the States and trying to reintegrate back into ministry, time has not been readily available.  Plus, after such a long hiatus, it’s sometimes hard to know where to begin.  But Friday night we went for our usual Night Outreach and I came back with so many thoughts and emotions, and an overwhelming need to write them down.  So, here we go.

Throughout my life, God has often used songs or certain phrases from songs to speak to me during different seasons.  Our time in the US was no different.  We heard one particular song over and over again during those six months, but it wasn’t until singing it at a Worship Conference near the end of our furlough that a certain phrase struck me in a totally new way.  The song is “So Will I,” and the phrase is:

If you gave your life to love them, so will I.

I remember weeping when I sang the words.  There we were, preparing our hearts to head back to Zambia to begin another three-year term of working with street children.  Never in my life has the “them” been so clear.  Those words were like a battle cry for me.  A mission statement.  A reminder of why I was once again leaving my family and friends behind to live on the other side of the world.  For love.  For THEM.  Because Jesus did it and still does it for all of us.

Since being back, the phrase has continued to follow me.  I try to keep it at the forefront of my mind every day as we go out to work with these young men.  Some days I’m better at it than others.  But one thing I’m learning is that loving someone looks completely different from moment to moment.

Sometimes it means holding a boy who just found out his little sister died from a tragic accident.  That’s one of the moments I had Friday night.  E, a 14 year old boy we’ve known for a few months, came up and said he was going home the next day.  I told him I was happy to hear that, but in my heart I assumed he would be back.  Lots of the boys come and go from their homes, taking “holidays” when they need a break from town.  But then he started crying and I pulled him close.  He said he had been told earlier that day that his sister died and he was going back for the funeral.  I held him, prayed with him, and begged him to stay home.  I explained how much his family needs him home right now.  I prayed for him to be strong and fight the temptation to come back to town, to sticka, to this life.  I’m still praying.

Sometimes this love simply means listening to music.  That’s how it was for Chris on Friday night.  One of the first boys we saw was P, one of the meanest and most feared boys on the streets.  You can literally feel the other boys’ apprehension around him, and most stay away until he’s gone.  He doesn’t come to any of our other programs, but he still stops by during night outreach to greet us and chat for a bit.  This night, he wanted Uncle Chris to listen to ALL of the songs he’s recorded and get his feedback.  You could almost FEEL the desire for affirmation in his voice as he explained each one.  Sometimes judging P comes a lot easier than loving him.  It’s easy to forget that he’s just as lost and broken as all the others…he just puts on a braver face to cover it up.

And sometimes love means sitting silently with a young man while he processes through his pain.  That’s another moment I had Friday night that simply wrecked me.  I was sitting with F, a newer boy who just started attending the Learning Center.  My heart was already broken for this sweet boy as I worked with him this week and saw how far behind he is; 18 years old and unable to even copy letters from the board.  But he’s been showing up.  And trying.  And warming up to us, little by little.  So Friday I wanted to hear more of his story so I could get to know him better.  I started asking the usual questions with Chris’ help translating.  Everything was pretty straightforward for the first few minutes.  We found out the basics of his family and why he came to town.  But then I asked, “So why can’t you go back to stay with your mother?”  Suddenly he froze.  Silence.  I thought maybe he hadn’t heard the question, but as I looked at him, I realized his eyes were filling with tears.  I reached over to put my hand on his shoulder.  We sat there for about five minutes.  Chris tried to switch spots with me and see if he would open up, but the silence continued and the tears kept falling.  All I could do was pray for him.  Pray that he keeps coming to our programs.  Praying that he doesn’t get fully sucked into street life.  Praying that we can continue building a relationship with him.  Praying that we can help him reconnect with his family.  Praying that Jesus heals whatever hurts he has experienced.  Praying that this boy comes to know the unconditional love of the Father.

Loving these boys is not always easy.  It can be hard and heartbreaking.  Sometimes loving them means correcting them or disciplining them to help them grow and change.  Other times it means loving them exactly as they are, even if they NEVER change.  Sometimes it means words; other times it means silence.  Sometimes it means action; other times it means doing nothing at all.  But in all of these moments, it means showing up and doing whatever Jesus is asking us to do.  As I sat with F, rubbing his back as tears rolled down his face, I vividly remember thinking, “This is why I’m here.  This is what Jesus would be doing.”  It may not seem like a lot, but I pray that it meant a lot to him.

And so we will continue looking for ways to love these boys as best we can.  Because if Jesus did it, so will we.

Rescue.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  Working with street children has helped me understand the heart of the Father more than ever before.  Let me share one of the major ways He’s been giving insight into His thoughts over the past few weeks…

At the end of September, our Outreach Team had our monthly meeting after Mayompapa as we usually do.  But this meeting was a bit different; we were meeting to discuss our next Intake.  (It might be obvious, but Intake is when we bring one or more boy off the streets and into our Residential program).  There are 7 of us on the Outreach team, and we had each sent Andrea, our Outreach Director, our top five choices in order of how “ready” we think they are to come off the streets.  This was trickier than you might think because we had to choose 5 boys who are under the age of 18 (the spaces we had available were only in our Under 18 house) and, as I mentioned in our last blog, the little boys tend to be a bit more troublesome.

After collecting all of the lists, Andrea compiled one final list of 5 boys we would be targeting for the Intake.  We knew we only had 2 spots available, but we needed to have more boys on the list in case something went wrong with the first two (ie: they weren’t in town, they chose to not accept our offer, etc.)  Number one on our list was a boy named M and number two was C.  They had both been very consistent to all our programs, had pretty good behavior and seemed to genuinely want to get out of town.  We prayed over all 5 boys on the list and set D-Day for October 27 so the Residential Team would have enough time to prepare.

Four weeks passed after that Tuesday meeting.  We all knew the boys we were targeting.  It’s such a strange feeling to look at these boys and realize they have NO idea you’ve been conducting meetings just about them.  They are totally oblivious to how much time and energy we put into finding out where their homes are, visiting their family members to do home assessments, pinpointing their emotional/educational needs and praying over their struggles.  Just like we have NO idea how much time our Father spends thinking about us.  Making plans on our behalf.  Discussing us with the angels.  It’s pretty surreal, actually. 

During those four weeks of waiting, it became apparent that the Enemy knew we were up to something.  M’s behavior started changing.  He started skipping programs.  He had always distanced himself from the term “street boy” since arriving in town around June, but he was beginning to look and act like all the others.  It was as if he was giving up hope.  It was sooo hard not to tell him to just hold on for a few more weeks, but we couldn’t.  We had to trust God and leave it in His hands.  If M wasn’t the boy He wanted in the house, it meant that someone else was.  C was still pretty consistent, but we worried for him if M didn’t come.  C is younger (probably 13 or 14) and is definitely more addicted to street life.  He has been in and out of centers quite a few times, usually running away due to peer influence.  We worried that if he didn’t have someone like M to come in with, he might struggle in the house with the older boys and choose to run.  But again, we had to trust that God would make everything clear on the day of Intake.

And FINALLY that day came.  We all went to the Learning Center like normal.  Both M and C were there, along with the other 3 boys on our list.  M was late.  But we were actually grateful he even came, because he skipped all last week and Wednesday.  C shut down on me during group lessons after he made some mistakes on his work.  (A VERY common problem with a lot of our boys).  It wasn’t the best of days.  They left after class around 1 as they normally do.  It seemed like a typical Friday.  Except we knew this could be the day that might change their lives forever. 

After closing things down at the Learning Center, we split up and Chris, Andrea and Enock (the Assistant Director of Abba’s) started the Search and Rescue.  This might sound silly, but this is quite literally what ended up happening.  Once our boys leave the Learning Center, there’s no way to really know where they go.  Kitwe is the second largest town in Zambia, so it can be very easy to lose someone in the streets.  Since we wanted to do things as covertly as possible, they couldn’t give the boys any hint to meet them somewhere or anything like that.  They just had to make educated guesses about where the boys are usually found and start walking.  And walk, they did.  For TWO HOURS.  In OCTOBER, the HOTTEST month in Zambia.  During the hottest part of the day.  After teaching all morning and not eating lunch.  Why?  Because they were on a mission.  And because they know that their God did the same thing for them.  Left the 99 for the one.  Did whatever it took to find them.

And then they found C.  Laying against a wall.  With a bottle of sticka in his hand.  Chris said it was one of the most emotional moments of his life.  Seeing that little boy who looked so hopeless; knowing they were about to cross the road and offer him a new life.

 

And isn’t that the story of all of us?  So often we think we need to clean ourselves up before we can say yes to Jesus.  That he doesn’t want our filth and failures.  But that’s so far from the truth.  Jesus knows the same thing we know about these boys…there’s nothing they can do for themselves.  If we waited until they cleaned themselves up or got over their bad habits, we would NEVER have any boys to bring into our homes.  The only way we can help them is to take them as they are, dirt and all. 

After finding C, he helped lead them to the shop where M is usually found helping the owners.  Both boys happily accepted our offer to come to Garneton (HUGE answer to prayer!) and in that moment their lives potentially changed forever.  They didn’t worry about the things they were leaving behind in town.  They didn’t ask to go say bye to their friends.  Didn’t question whether they were ready to give up sticka and freedom.  Just said yes and took the first step of their new beginnings.  I wish I could adequately paint a picture of their arrival at the home last night.  So many welcomes, hugs and smiles all around!

I know in this moment everything seems perfect.  I ALSO know that feeling won’t last forever.  I know it won’t be easy.  I’m sure there will be doubts and moments when one (or both) of these young men think about turning back to their old lives.  I know the real battle has just started.  But I also know that our God and our team will do whatever it takes to keep these boys where they are now. 

Right now, we need PRAYER.  Prayer for M and C as they try to adapt to this new world.  Pray that they adjust well and feel part of the family.  Pray that they keep their eyes fixed on their futures and find a way to silence the lies from the enemy that we know are going to come soon.  Pray for their house parents as they maneuver through loving these 2 new boys, along with the other 7 boys in their care.  Pray that they would get an extra dose of wisdom, grace and patience from the Father throughout these next few weeks.  Pray for our team as we continue connecting with and targeting more boys to bring into the houses in the future.  You really have no idea how much we covet your prayers.  We know it’s the ONLY way we can do any of the things God has called us to join Him in.

Thank you for rejoicing with us.  To Him be ALL the glory!

Mwaiche.

Mwaiche.  The term for a young child in Bemba.  Most people use it to refer to their younger siblings, especially the last born.  You can also use it to call the smallest person in a group of people.  It’s even a cute term of endearment Chris uses for me sometimes J

But today it meant something different for me.  Today it was a reminder that the age of our street boys keeps getting younger and younger.  We had 42 boys at our Mayompapa program.  We always split  the boys into 3 groups based on their ages.  Group 1 is our “little boys” group, meaning the boys are all under the age of 16.  It’s USUALLY our smallest group.  Except for today.  Today, 19 of our 42 boys fit into the “little boys” category. 

I’ll be honest; playing with the little boys is usually more fun than trying to play with the 20-somethings who have been on the streets for over a decade.  They’re so darn cute.  They make you laugh.  But as I sat back and watched them all line up for lunch today, I was heartbroken.  The numbers keep increasing.  Almost every week, Chris has to do a profile for a new boy who has come to town.  One of the questions is, “Why did you leave home?”  The most popular answer, especially for little boys?  Tapali.  No reason. I’m sure this is just them protecting themselves.  Refusing to open up and share the deep hurts that caused them to run away.  But even after spending weeks and months with some of these boys, the answer is still the same.  “Why don’t you want to go home?”  Tapali.  No reason.  I simply can’t accept that as an answer for why a boy is sleeping outside in the dirt.  I need to justify it somehow.  I need it to make sense.  But that’s the hard reality we face with street work: most of it doesn’t make sense.

Yesterday, I went into town with Mama Mary, the house mother for one of our residential homes.  We were making our big monthly trip to buy groceries/supplies for the house.  While we were in the market, a group of our little boys walked up to greet us.  They were so cute and full of smiles; so excited to see us and help carry our vegetables.  They followed each other through the market, laughing and goofing off as they went.  They were the closest thing to the Lost Boys that I can imagine.  You know, the rag tag group of boys from Peter Pan.  The Neverland boys who want to play all day and never grow up.  That’s what I see when I look at this ever-growing number of boys on the streets.   

Life on the streets for a little boy can be a grand adventure in the beginning.  They tend to make easy money just begging, compared to the older boys who have to work hard all day carrying things or fetching water to earn a dollar or two.  People who sell things in the market often “adopt” them, giving them coins, food or clothing every now and then.  As I’ve already said, they’re adorable, so people want to help them.  In fact, they’re almost always the first ones to be taken by residential centers or other NGO’s who work with street kids.  But the problem is that they go to these centers for a “holiday.”  They stay for a few weeks, eat well, get some clean clothes, enjoy having a bed and then run away when they get tired of the rules or want to smoke some sticka.  Unlike Abba's Heart, most centers give boys chance after chance, no matter how many times they run.  Seems like a good thing at first, but really it’s just teaching the boys that they don’t actually have to change.  Centers become vacation homes instead of a place of restoration.

Another thing that broke my heart today was the fact that, from our 19 little boys, we had FOUR pairs of brothers.  The youngest boy, aged 10, showed up in town back in May.  He said he came all the way from a village in the far northern part of Zambia.  One day, about 3 weeks later, his older brother (12 years old) arrived.  He told us that he had been sent by their grandmother to find him and bring him home.  But what happened instead?  The little brother convinced the older brother to go to Lusaka.  They were there for about a month and then the older brother came back to Kitwe.  Now they’re both in town, with seemingly no plan to go back home. 

Stories like this are a dime a dozen on the streets.  Almost ALL of our boys have left at some point, only to show back up a few weeks or months later.  Every week we have to do a recount of which boys are at centers, which boys are back home and which boys are in town.  It’s frustrating.  Heartbreaking.  Sometimes you feel like you have no answers for them.  They’re still in the “fun” phase of living on the streets.  No one telling them what to do.  Hanging out with their friends all day instead of going to school or doing chores.  Making their own money and getting to spend it on whatever they want.  It’s a dream come true for most young boys.

But we adults know what the cost is for these children.  We know what they’re missing out on.  We see the way their futures are being destroyed.  The way their attitudes and behaviors are being shaped.  One of the major forms of bondage for these Lost Boys is sticka.  I can’t even explain to you how badly it affects the little ones.  Yes, it’s bad for everyone, but seeing a young child high on inhalant is one of those things that gives you a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.  You can just see their potential being stripped away.  Their gifts and talents.  Sometimes I just ask God, “Is THIS what you created them for?” 

Every week at Mayompapa, we take time to pray for each boy individually.  Pretty much every time I pray for a boy, and especially when it’s a young one, I pray that God makes town un-fun for them.  Not that I want it to be dangerous.  I pray for their protection, of course.  I want them to be safe from every kind of harm.  But I also want them to get to a point where they get sick of just playing around and decide to do something different.  For some of them, going home might not be an option.  But I pray that they decide to STAY at a center if they get another opportunity.  I pray that they start coming consistently to the learning center.  I pray that they stop following their friends and make decisions for themselves.

Today, I just felt a burden to share some more about these young ones that keep popping up in our lives.  Hopefully you have a better idea of how to pray for them, and for us as we try to reach them with truth and love.  Please continue praying for wisdom, patience, compassion and grace.  And pray that our Lost Boys wake up and decide to make better decisions for the precious lives they’ve been given.  Thank you soooo much for supporting us every step of the way!

                           (Here is a pic of some of our Little Boys from today's Mayompapa.)

Healing.

In John 5, Jesus has an encounter with a man who has been an invalid for 38 years.  The first words Jesus says to this man are, “Do you want to be healed?”  This story has always seemed strange to me.  Why would Jesus ask such a silly question.  OF COURSE this man wants to be healed.  Why else would he be at the Pool of Bethesda?  Who WOULDN’T want to be healed of something that’s been holding them back for so long?

But in the past 7 months, God has taught me a lot about healing.  It takes work.  It changes the rest of your life.  It means you have to leave certain attitudes and behaviors behind.  It requires courage.  Some people are ready for it, and some people aren’t.

Before Chris and I came to Abba’s Heart, I totally simplified street kid ministry in my mind.  It seemed like a straightforward equation: There are hurting children on the streets;  Abba’s Heart wants to help.  You would think we would have boys begging us to take them off the streets and help free them from their addictions.  But sadly, that’s not really the case.  Right now we have about 8 boys who consistently come to the Learning Center, our “pathway” to getting off the streets.  This is the step boys can take to show us they are serious about wanting to change their circumstances.  We normally have 35-40 boys show up on Tuesdays for our Mayompapa program, but only 8 at the Learning Center (which meets Wednesday, Thursday and Friday).  One reason is that most boys choose to work odd jobs during the day to make money, rather than investing a few hours into their future.  But I think the main reason goes back to that same question Jesus asked the man by the pool.  They’re just not ready to be healed.

We currently have 9 boys in our residential program.  These are boys who used to live on the streets, but have bravely decided to work towards a new life.  The day they each came off the streets, they were asked if they even wanted the opportunity.  It seems like a crazy question.  I mean, who would choose to live on the streets when someone is offering you a safe home, a warm bed and three meals a day?  But saying yes is a lot harder than we might realize.  In fact, some boys have responded to that question with, “Can I have one more week in town before I come?”  One boy even agreed, went through the process at social welfare to make it official and then decided on the way to Garneton that he wasn’t ready. 

I was reading through a book recently called “You Are Free,” and the author spoke about this particular section of Scripture in a way I had never thought of before.  She wrote, “It wasn’t a trite question.  I can imagine his tone, his meaning.  I believe he was asking, No, really, do you?  Or do you want to lie there, trying to manage your pain?  Do you really want to be well?  Because if you do, it will cost the rest of your life.  You’ll no longer be a victim.  You’ll no longer be able to agree with the lie that you are broken and crippled.  Instead, you’ll say, “I once was blind, and now I see!”

Choosing to leave town is probably terrifying for these boys.  At least on the streets they can waste their days away with alcohol and sticka.  They have an excuse to behave any way they want; after all, it’s what people expect from them.  They can get in fights and insult each other because that’s just the way life is.  When you’re a street boy, it’s okay to act broken because you are broken.  But now, if you choose to take a step towards healing and restoration?  Suddenly you have no more excuses.  You have been handed a new, blank slate.  A future with possibilities.  And somehow, I think that’s scarier than a future with none.  There is too much room for disappointment.  Too many chances to fail.  Too many expectations thrust upon you.  They’ll suddenly have to deal with questions like, “Who am I and what are my dreams?”  They’ll have to let go of their addictions and face all the demons they’ve been trying to forget.  They’ll have to stop blaming their circumstances and take responsibility for the decisions they make.  It’s a daunting task.  A long, uphill climb.  And I’m sure for most boys, it’s easier to stay where they are.  Easier to look at our team (and Jesus) and say, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m okay.”

Today we are asking for you to pray that more young men would be brave enough to say yes.  Young men who decide that they are tired of being broken and ask God for His miraculous healing power.  Who actually start taking steps towards receiving that healing.  Who will take God at His word when He says He will walk with them every step of the way.  Who are willing to face disappointment and hard battles in order to receive the full healing they so desperately need.

I’m so grateful to say we are beginning these steps with one boy in particular, and I just ask that you would be praying for him over these next few weeks.  Pray for our team to have the wisdom and patience to handle his situation the way God intends.  And pray that we will soon have a testimony of God’s goodness and mercy!

Battlefield

I can’t believe it’s been so long since we last posted!  We’ve been SO grateful to have two teams come to visit us since April, but they’ve definitely kept us busy J

This past Tuesday we had an opportunity to dedicate the new Mayompapa Field where we will do our weekly program for the street boys.  It’s very close to the field we’ve been using, but it’s bigger, has better facilities for meeting/washing, and even has areas for soccer, basketball AND volleyball.  We brought all the boys over to be part of the ceremony, and I just stood back and thought about all the possibilities.  Andrea, one of the other missionaries at Abba’s Heart, shared a word from Isaiah that touched me in a huge way and I just wanted to share it with you all.

She started in Isaiah 42:22.  It says, “But this is a people plundered and looted, all of them trapped in pits or hidden away in prisons.  They have become plunder, with no one to rescue them; they have been made loot, with no one to say, “Send them back.”

This is a picture of our boys.  Satan has stolen so much from them.  Things that God never intended for them to lose.  Family.  Safety.  Shelter. Education.  Innocence.  Hope.  So much more.  They are trapped.  Unseen.  Forgotten.  It seems as if there is no chance of restoration.

The next chapter, Isaiah 43, starts with two of the most hope-giving words in the English language.  “But now.”  God is declaring that NOW it is going to be different.  Things are going to change.  He starts by saying, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you BY NAME; you are MINE.”  What a beautiful promise our boys needed to hear.  He knows their names.  They are HIS.  The world may reject them.  They might feel all alone.  But they have a Father who has chosen them.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.  When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”  I’m sure our boys walk through life feeling like they’re drowning.  Feeling like the darkness is going to consume them.  Feeling like another day of THIS is just too much.  And sometimes it feels contrite to tell them, “Don’t worry…Jesus is with you!” But sometimes that’s all I can say.  And in the end, that’s the most important thing they ever need to hear.  To know that in spite of all the brokenness of this world, there is a God who sees them; who will never abandon them.

Verse 4 says, “Since you are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you, I will give men in exchange for you, and people in exchange for your life.”  I never really thought about this before, but Andrea looked at the boys sitting on the ground, and told them to look at all the staff and missionaries surrounding them.  She told them that God exchanged our lives for them.  He asked us to sacrifice our time, energy, and love for the lives of these precious boys.  And He did it for each of us at some point.  Each of us has had people who made sacrifices on our behalf.  Who poured into us when we had nothing to give in return.  THAT is how much he loves us.

Lastly, we jumped over to verses 18-19 in chapter 43.  “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.  See, I am doing a new thing!  Not it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.”

To me, this verse is a picture of restoration.  Rebuilding.  Redeeming what has been lost.  And THAT is the cry of our hearts for these boys.  Sure, it’s nice to come and give them the chance to shower/wash their clothes, play games and eat a good meal, but we want so much more than that!  

We want to see restoration happening in their lives.  We want to reclaim what Satan has stolen.  We want to see hope returning to their eyes.  We want to see them enter into relationship with their Heavenly Father.  And that is what we were praying over that field on Tuesday.

The piece of property we were dedicating is so much more than land.  It is a battlefield.  A place where we meet with the enemy every week for the lives of these boys.  A place where we attempt to take back what has been stolen.  Chris and I just finished listening to a sermon series from our friends at Mission Point Community Church about the armor of God.  We have learned so much and our eyes have been opened in a new way to the war that is raging all around us.  We have felt the spiritual attacks from the enemy since we started working with these boys.  We know that he has tried to claim them for himself and he HATES that we are coming to take them back to their Father. 

Will you please pray for the battles that are taking place over here in Zambia?  Please pray for the Mayompapa Field, that it will truly become a place of refuge and redemption.  Pray for us every Tuesday as we build stronger relationships and teach these boys about the hope they have in Jesus.  And please pray for Chris and me (and our whole team) as we stand on the frontlines every day fighting for the lives of these precious children.  Pray for strength, passion and vision to keep going.

Runners

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!

Seeing

People always say you should be careful what you wish for.  It’s the same about prayers.  Be careful what you pray for.  Because God might just do exactly what you ask.

Like that prayer we prayed as a staff at the beginning of this year: Give us eyes to see and ears to hear.  Seems like a simple enough prayer.  But having your eyes TRULY opened?  That’s not simple at all.

The first month and a half of our internship was mostly focused on working with the boys in our residential program.  We’ve loved it.  Building relationships and investing in their growth.  So fulfilling.  But two weeks ago our outreach programs began.  Outreach is a whole other ballgame.  The residential boys are the “after” to a VERY long process.  The “before”?  It’s way more messy; but still beautiful.  We do outreach in three different ways:

(1) Mayompapa.  This is every Tuesday.  We go to town, pick up 40-50 boys and bring them out to our land in Garneton.  They have time to bath, wash their clothes, play games, have a Bible lesson/prayer time, do some educational activities and have a giant lunch. 

(2) The Learning Center.  This is every Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.  We meet the boys in town (usually between 12-18 show up) and split into small groups to focus on basic literacy and math skills.  We also give them a small snack of buns and juice.  This is where we really get to know the boys and spend the most time with them.

(3) Night Outreach.  This is every other Friday night.  We really just go and hang out with them on the streets.  We just want to spend time in their world and let them know we’re here for them.

Now, back to what I said about dangerous prayers.  God has most definitely begun opening our eyes to what HE sees when He looks at these children.  You see, the more time you spend with “street kids,” the more you see how precious they are.  You hear their stories.  You get to know their laughs.  You realize that they’re just kids.  Sure, they might make bad decisions and seem broken beyond repair, but each one of them has a God-given purpose here on earth.  Which is why it breaks your heart a million times to see them in these situations.

 

The other day, Chris was walking in town after the teaching at the Learning Center and he saw two boys sleeping in the corridor.  It was the middle of the day.  People were passing all around.  Most ignored them, but as Chris got closer, he realized they were two of OUR boys.  He went over, woke them up and began talking to them, getting lots of stares from the others walking by.  After telling me this story he said something I’ll never forget: “I can never unsee them now.  I can never look at a street kid the same way again.”  THAT’S what it means to have your eyes opened.

A few months ago, street kids were just another part of life in Zambia.  We would often walk the streets without noticing these children all around us.  If we DID see them, we probably just felt pity (maybe even annoyance or fear).  But that has all changed now.  Now we actually go into town looking for them.  When I’m riding in a bus or taxi, my eyes are looking in all directions to see if I can spot one of our boys.  We often hear cries of “Uncle!  Auntie!” when we walk through the market place.  They know us, and we know them.  We love the confused looks people give us when we stop to talk with one of these precious children.  Because we know they can’t see what we see.  They’re looking through foggy glasses.  To them, it doesn’t make sense.  But God has started giving us new eyes to see.  And so far, what we see is beautiful.