Final days

In these last days here, I am so greatful for the friends I´ve made. It is sad to say goodbye, of course. I have been asked over and over, when are you coming back? I don´t have the answer they want. I don´t know when I will be back, but I hope I will be back sometime.
I remember the first week praying for friendships with the kids, and we have gotten a huge answer. Even this week more kids have been in the park that we are only beginning to know. In some ways, work here feels unfinished. But I have to trust that God has begun a good work, and will continue it. But I do hate the leaving part.
I got to see one of the girls the other day. It seemed random. My teammate has also been looking for a boy she met a while ago. Our soccer time got changed to an earlier time and we were all worried about who would come. My teammate saw the boy and invited him to come play. He wanted to bring his sisters. One of his sisters is the girl I drew with in the coffee shop a few weeks ago and hadn´t seen since. Still following? We made plans to meet again yesterday at the same coffee shop at three. I went a little early but then found myself waiting for a while. What had happened? Did she forget? It occured to me to look outside. On the other corner I could just see her orange sweatshirt. I yelled her name and told her to come in. She told me she had tried and wasn´t allowed in. I asked if that had happened before, if she had tried to come in to find me but hadn´t been allowed in. Wow. It was sad to hear that, but at the same time, I was so glad that I was able to see her again. In the end, it didn´t matter that she couldn´t find me before, because she found me yesterday. I invited her in with me and told the waitress she was my friend. We were free to draw. I honestly think, that as long as kids can still play, color, and laugh, that there is still hope.
Nothing is really finished here. It is only the beginning, and it breaks my heart to leave. But I hope that our love for these kids stays in their memories. I hope that in that memory, they know that they are loved, that they are important. I hope that we are leaving behind something tangible enough for them to hold onto when faith in God and faith in themselves is so difficult.
Dear friends, thanks for your prayers and your love. You have been such a valuable part of this experience. This is my final post from Guatemala. I have a few days of debrief with InnerChange in San Francisco, and then finally I will be back in Colorado. Thanks again, for everything. Don´t ever underestimate the power our encouragement and support of each other holds.

shining shoes and other things

My thoughts are swirling today. We are leaving soon. We are planning a little party after tomorrow´s soccer game. Our team is experiencing conflict and redemption in that conflict. I don´t really know where to start today.
I think what I want to focus on, is a moment yesterday. We asked a few of the boys to teach us how to shine shoes. It was fun and funny as I tried to wield the rag with enough strength and speed to make the snapping noise they always make. But what I was thinking about was posture. I was sitting at his feet attempting to clean his shoes. It almost feels like bowing. These kids do this almost everyday. Do they feel less because they are in that postion so often? Do they think about it that way at all? Or was it just me coming into their perspective? I don´t have an answer but it is causing me to think more and more about how the boys are seen, and how they see themselves. And how I can love them and pray for them.
As far as redemption goes, I am learning more and more. I always used to think that conflict could only end badly. I used to think that redemption was a difficult place to find and live in. But today after witnessing yet another example of working through the hard stuff, I am learning that it can be a valuable place for growing love.
My heart is sad with leaving and wondering about the boys. I knew coming here that I would feel this way, but not to this extent. The next few days will be good but difficult.

About me

I´m not sure how to write how I´m feeling or what I´m thinking today. Goodbyes are coming soon and it is really hard to swallow. It feels like we just got to know some of the boys and are only beginning to understand their thoughts and their lives.
I have written a lot about what I am learning in the context of the lives of the kids here. They are the central piece of my experience, and I hope that I will never be able to forget them. God has also been doing a lot in me. He is healing past wounds and opening me up to people around me in new ways. He is softening me. And it is breaking my heart.
I am learning how to be, and how to wait. I am learning that it is ok for things to take time. Some of you who know me well, know that though I am very patient with other people, I have a very difficult time being patient for things in my own life. God is showing me the beauty of his time. The beauty of living, being, and breathing in the things around me. Where I am right now.
I am learning how to see myself as beautiful and loved. So often I let a poor view of myself affect how I love others. But God wants me to have the same grace for myself that I try to have for these kids. He has forgiven me, and he wants me to let go of all the ways I hinder myself from living and loving.
My heart is breaking over the thought of leaving. Please pray for our goodbyes this week, that the kids would know how much we love them. And also for the transition back to the States, that I wouldn´t lose all the incredible lessons I´ve finally been open to learning.

That one...

Today I heard a story that made me think a lot. A lot about addictions, poverty, and redemption. I have been so upset about the stories of the kids here. I have wanted to save them all right now. I have wanted to come in with my agenda to rid Xela of the desperation that leads to child labor and lots of other difficult options. But I am seeing that some of the most effective reform comes slowly, with patience. With time. I keep coming back to the concept of time. This is probably because time seems so different here, but also because the process of knowing the kids is slow. Sometimes they are excited to see us and wave and greet us with giant grins. Other days they are low, or high on glue, or drunk. And they feel ashamed, so they barely look at us. The story I heard today gave me hope though. It was about a broken addiction, but it took over ten years. It was about a changed life, but again it took time, prayers, and God.
So things here may not happen in my time. In fact, I may not see any of the dreams I have for these kids come true.
I have been wondering about the phrase we use often, if it only saves one, it´s worth it. Well, is it? Is it really? And what if that one takes over ten years instead of one month or one year? I think that Jesus delights in finding that one. Mel read some parables a few weeks ago that all had two do with finding that one that was lost. The prodigal son, where the son returns and is greeted jubilantly by the father. The lost coin, where the woman sweeps her entire house looking for that one coin. The lost sheep, where the shepherd leaves the ninety nine in search of that one who is lost. And there is a giant party when these things are found. What if I am involved in the search? How sweet to be included in something God works so hard at, finding the ones who are lost. So, my hope is growing again, but slowly. Steadily. And I am learning that it is ok, if it takes a long time for reform. A long time for broken addictions. A long time for friendships to stick and trust to be formed. It´s ok of yesterday they were drunk and today they are happy to see me. Because I have the time to give. And I have the time to wait.

so complicated

The more I learn, the more I realize how big and complicated it all is. It is beginning to really hit me, all the sorrow of it all. The fact that there are so many children here living without families or much adult influence at all. I have seen these kids be cursed at and ignored. I am praying a lot about what it means to keep hope. I have to keep hope because they don´t have much, and if I lose hope, then I can´t help as much as I want to. One of my leaders spoke about trying to repair the roof of the shelter for some of the kids. He has given money to have it repaired several times. But it is still broken. He says that for him, it is an analogy for the kids. They too are broken in so many ways, that it can be like trying to repair that stupid roof. I didn´t really want to hear that. But now that I am seeing more and more of the desperation, I am seeing that my hope for them has to come from God. The problems are huge, but I have to believe that God really is bigger. I have to believe that because he has shown me these kids, that He wants them to know that they are so important and worthwhile. Maybe there is power and beauty in knowing their names and stories. For me, they have ceased to be an idea or an abstract example of poverty. They are real. And they are my friends. So though it seems small, I will do all I can to hold out hope, no matter how many times I need to be reminded of that, or how many times we seem to fail. Friends, please hope with me. This cycle of oppression is too big for me to carry.

so it seems...

On our retreat at a beautiful lake I met a thirteen year old girl. She walks all day with colorful scarves balanced on her head. And a basket of trinket like bracelets. I was staring out at the lake and praying. This girl and her friend came up to the water laughing. They asked me if I was afraid to get into the water. Well, of course not! So we played in the water. We threw rocks and tried to splash each other. Today I saw her again, and this time she told me more of her story. She has to make a certain amount of money every day. If she doesn´t make it, she can´t go to school. Honestly, I don´t think she makes it to school most days. And really, I can see her wondering what point there is if all she has to look forward to is what she already does everyday. I learned a lot from her. She works hard. She tries to support her mom, who also sells clothes and other things. I take solace in the fact that yesterday she laughed and played. I have to keep hope that children who know how to laugh and play will always know how to laugh and play. I am so glad that I met her. I am praying about what it looks like to have hope for her. I am realizing that if you forbid children to work and force them to go to school, that they probably won´t eat. So the system is out of wack. They need to go go school in order to learn and have more than one option in life, but they can´t get there in the first place because everyday is about selling enough. My friend sells all day. Today we counted, fourteen hours walking the streets and asking tourists to buy her scarves. I have to trust that there is reason to hope. In laughter and play. And in shared stories.

space, girls, and fiestas

I think my personal space bubble is shrinking. I feel better when I´m smooshed next to people while traveling in a vehicle. I love the hugs and kisses from the family we spend a lot of time with. It is a big deal when one of the street kids, Javier, does the traditional kiss on the cheek. It is a sign of trust and friendship. It´s almost comical how much space we need in the states. What are we so afraid of? Why are we so afraid of touch? I can see the gift of individuality. We are able to make our own paths and build new things. But what have we lost? Have we lost the ability to make time, really make time, and space for friends and family? Are we so busy with us that we have forgotten how to be family?
I went to a quincianera on Saturday. It is basically a huge party for a girl when she turns fifteen. It felt like a wedding without the groom. There was a mass where her parents told her to continue to listen to God. She made a statement about following God. There was a part where all of us said, "Te amamos Gabriella" which means, we love you. We had dinner and dancing after all of that. It was a big deal. But what I keep thinking about is this, all girls - and probably guys too - deserve to be celebrated like that. All girls need to have a room full of people saying they love them. What an incredible affirmation of becoming a woman.
I was at a coffee shop the other day, when two girls selling stickers came in. I talked with them for a while and drew with them. It was really sweet. They are seven and eight. They don´t go to school because they have to sell stickers. They are already stuck in the system of poverty. If a family is able to afford school, they send the boys first. So these girls wander the city selling stickers because of poverty and desperation. Of course we didn´t talk about all of this, it´s normal for them. Child labor is normal here. And it is breaking my heart. I want to throw a big party for these girls too. The girls in the city are much more difficult to find because they wander the city. The boys are a lot easier because they are mostly in the central park shining shoes. The problems are huge. And it is a system that is difficult to fight and even harder to understand. I am glad to be here and be part of this for a little while. I am glad to know these kids and learn how to see them as God does. They are his children. But my heart is broken too.