When I started this journey, I expected my heart to be broken on a daily basis. I think I would wonder what was wrong with me if it wasn't. But sometimes...
Sometimes it hurts more than other times. Sometimes it feels as if it is breaking into so many pieces that it will never be whole again.
Today would be one of those days.
My heart has always been for the older boys on the street. When I look at them, I can't even describe what I see. I think they are amazing. To have survived on their own for so long...
It doesn't come without a price though. It isn't easy for them to trust or connect. It isn't easy for them to love or be loved. They don't know how to live with other people or function in a home. Basic life skills, never learned. So many things, they don't know. One of the most difficult things to overcome is having to actually face their problems. On the streets, they can fight or do drugs or drink or go and watch an inappropriate movie. They can do so many things to not have to face life. When they come into the home, they can't escape.
It is overwhelming.
Sometimes they can't handle it.
Small things become BIG things.
Big things become HUGE things.
And then they leave.
They run back to a life where they don't have to deal with anything. They make excuses as to why the home isn't a good place. They create stories just so they don't have to deal with reality. They go back to a life where they struggle and are abused. They go back to a life where no one loves them just so they don't have to love or take a chance.
The only coping mechanism they have ever learned is to run and avoid. If something is too difficult on the streets, there are so many things to distract them. For kids that have been so traumatized, it is the best environment for them...according to them. They don't have to think about any of it. They can just dull it away with whatever is near.
Over the past week, the small thing became big, which became huge which caused him to leave. I thought he would come back by now, but he hasn't. He is running. From what? Not sure. But it definitely isn't over the silly things he was arguing about at home.
Now he is back on the streets and refusing to come home. He knows how much we love him. He knows how lucky he is to have a home and food everyday. He knows what an amazing opportunity it is to go to school. He knows he doesn't belong on the streets. He knows the streets are going to lead him nowhere.
But it isn't enough.
He was alone for too long and suffered too much. I don't know if he will ever come home. I don't know if he will ever stop running. And for that my heart is broken. Into so many pieces. Because home isn't home without him. I love him dearly. But it isn't enough. It could even be what pushed him over the edge. Who knows?
God does. He saw every terrible thing that happened to him. He was with him every night he spent alone. He loved him before I even knew him.
Why is it we always choose to run away?
I was reminded this morning that God loves him way more than I do. I was encouraged by at least he tried to live in a home. We all knew it wouldn't be easy for him, but we tried anyway. I would try a million more times for him, if it would work at least once. When we moved into our first home, I thought I was going to lose him before the first night was over. When I woke up and he was still home, I was so happy.
God kept him with us for almost 4 months.
So much longer than I ever expected.
I know God can bring him back.
Please be praying that he would come back home. Please pray that he would be safe while he is on the streets. Please pray that his heart would heal. Please pray that he won't stay gone for long. Please just pray for him.