I should have been bold

Yesterday I went to speak at a high school about Uganda and the boys.  After I was done talking, the kids had the opportunity to ask me questions.  I was expecting the same questions as always, "Have you seen an elephant?, Do you have a phone?, etc." but instead, one girl had amazingly thoughtful questions for a 14 year old.  She asked me, "How do you make it through all of the bad stuff and keep going?  Where do you find the strength?"  It is amazing to me that she even realized times were difficult, and some days at the end of the day, I feel so hopeless and wonder what on earth I am doing.  I wonder how she knew because I didn't talk about the hard times.  I didn't talk about my doubts or my fears.  I told them how amazing the kids were.  But she somehow knew...

And I missed an opportunity. An opportunity to tell her, I don't have the strength.  I barely make it through most days.  Some days I want to run so far away, just to make it all stop. I didn't tell her that some days I think it is just too much and I can't manage.  Most importantly, I didn't tell her I don't because I serve a mighty God that gives me all of the strength I need.  Just when I think my heart can't take anymore, He heals it just for it to be broken again the next day.  Just when I want to run for the hills, He works in one of the boys and I am reminded why I am there.  Just when I think I don't have the strength to do one more thing, He fills me up with His love, so I can keep pouring it out to the boys. 

I know it isn't my own doing.  I know it isn't my own strength that I rely on each day.  I know it is only through Him that any of this is possible.  But I missed my chance to tell her that.  I missed the chance to tell her, what an amazing God I serve and I have hope because of Him.  Hope for a future and hope for change.  I missed the chance to tell her that times are difficult, but even in the difficult times He is there holding us up and pushing us on, and even in the difficult times there is beauty. 

I regret not telling her.  I should have.  I should have been bold in my faith and not afraid to say it, even though we were in school and you aren't supposed to talk about religion in school.  But now you all know.  It isn't me.  It is only God's grace, mercy and love that helps me to get through each day.  Without Him, I would be nothing.  Without Him, I would fail miserably and would have run away a long time ago.  Without Him, I will never make it....

I knew it was going to happen before it did.  I could just tell...

John is the boy that is most like me.  He says the craziest things sometimes that are kind of true just to make me laugh.  Like when I tell him, he is being stubborn and he replies, "Like mother like son." He is quiet and moody, guarded and untrusting, kind and soft hearted, but he would never let you know.  He hides behind a tough guy exterior afraid to let anyone love him because he has been hurt too many times.  He has been hurt and abandoned by everyone he has probably ever loved and fears I will do the same.  He is convinced that just like everyone else, I will say I am coming back and never come back.  I will forget him, just as everyone else has, and go on with my life, never missing him or thinking twice.  That is what he thinks...

I knew he wasn't ok with my leaving and I worried the most about him.  I knew he would leave again, it was just a matter of time. And I knew, I would be too far away to do anything about it and my heart hurt so much.  I prayed he wouldn't leave.  I begged God to take his hurt and pain.  I begged for God to keep him at home.  And He did, for a day.  Yesterday my heart broke into a million pieces again.  Like only John can do to me.  Because he is so much like me, I know how strong willed and stubborn he is.  I know how hurt and broken he is, and I know how much he is testing me and my love for him.  I know that he just wants to push me away and hurt me before I can hurt him.  I know these things, but it doesn't make it hurt anyless.  It doesn't make it any easier.

So of course I have been praying, begging God to bring John home, begging Him to not let the Devil win this one, not John, not my precious boy.  I begged God to not let my precious boy stay on the streets, to make him come back home.  In the middle of my sentence to God, I realized what a selfish jerk I am. 

I am begging God to bring my ONE boy home.  Tellilng Him how hurt and sad I am because my ONE boy is back on the streets.  Telling Him that I don't know how I can be here with my ONE boy living on the streets again.  Yes my ONE boy.

Of course God knows how I feel.  He has THOUSANDS of precious boys/children on the streets.  And here I am begging for ONE like God doesn't know how much it hurts or something...Like my ONE is worth more than all of the others.  Yeah, kind of selfish...

The truth is, God doesn't want John on the streets and He will bring him back home.  He could be doing it right now as I type. He loves John way more than I do.  He loves them all way more than I do.  His heart is breaking for all of the Johns out there, still sleeping on the streets, fighting to survive.  His heart breaks for all of the kids out there that are forgotten about and unloved.  His heart is breaking, right now, as I type, that another one of HIS PRECIOUS CHILDREN is without someone to love him.  His heart breaks, that WE, ME AND YOU,  are not doing more to help His precious children.  His heart breaks because He commanded us to help, but still we do nothing.  His heart breaks that we see and hear of injustices and turn the other way like it isn't our problem.  But if we say we are living for HIM, then they are our problems.  I saw a statistic that said if only 8% of people claming to be Christians cared for just one more child, there would be no more orphans in the world.  Imagine that!  Only 8%!  Will you be one of the 8% with me???