Don't judge a book...

A few days ago I was in town with 2 of the boys.  Kampala is a crazy city.  There are so many people everywhere.  People are selling things.  They are begging.  They are shopping.  They are going here or there.  The amount of people and chaos is overwhelming.  Out of control overwhelming.  Sometimes I love it but sometimes I want to get out and never go back.  Things aren't easily situated either, for the most part.  You can’t just go to a store like Walmart or Target and get everything you need at once.  First you go to one building, then to another, and so on and so on until your errands are done.  Sometimes it is easy because you know the area of town you need to go to if you want to find a certain thing, but when you have so much to do, it can be exhausting because you have to visit many places. 

I think this particular day we had been in the city for maybe five or six hours and were all exhausted.  As we were walking back to the taxi park, where we have to go to find a mini bus that takes us back to our village, I was in my own little world.  There were people everywhere and while I was aware of them, I didn't really take notice.  One of the boys was walking about an arm’s length away from me on my left and the other a few steps behind me.

My little world was shattered by a woman’s voice.  I heard what she said but it didn't make sense to me at first.  It took a moment to register.  When it finally did, I was still like “WHAT???”  She told me to keep my bag, meaning to hold it better and guard it.  Between me being in my own world of thoughts and the ridiculousness of what she was implying, I know I had the craziest look on my face.  So I replied to her, “He’s my son, but thanks” as I reached out and grabbed the arm of the one next to me.  It was then her turn to be shocked as she stuttered, “Oh!!  I thought…” 

As I grabbed his arm and pulled him close to me, we turned to the taxi park.  I told him sorry and he asked what she had said.  I know heard and I know he understood her.  When I told him it was nonsense, he replied, “Are you sure?”  We continued on to our coaster and went home and left that lady behind.  But I know he understood her and I am sure it hasn't left his mind.

It isn't an infrequent occurrence that people stop me in town and warn me about the boys.  Whether they want to point out that I am unsafe by being around them or that they are going to rob me when I am not looking.  Even today, someone told me that I was walking with a bunch of bad guys.

I admit, some of these boys are pretty intimidating.  Like you might cross the street at night if they started walking towards you, intimidating.  It is ironic that I take comfort in the exact thing people warn me about them.  I have never felt safer than when I am with them, especially the boy from this story. I know that they will all protect me, no matter what.  I don’t fear being robbed or anything when I am with them.  I know that I am always safe.  They will protect me no matter what.

Maybe I should feel bad that people think the boys are nothing but common street thugs.  And in a way, I do.  I feel bad for them.  It is like they can never escape their past.  They have made great strides to change and some are completely different, especially the boy from the story.  I feel bad that people still insult them and don’t give them a chance.  I feel bad for the people insulting too because you cannot find people with softer hearts than these boys.

We decided that instead of going to church for Christmas, we were going to be the church.  We were going to follow Jesus’ example and serve and give.  One of our friends was having a party for the boys on the street on Tuesday, so we woke up early to go and serve them.  On the way, one of the boys found a small boy that was clearly lost and looked confused.  He stopped to talk to him and ask where his parents were.  He was a street kid but he must have just arrived and was still lost and scared.  He tried his best to get the boy to come with us but in the end, the boy refused.  I wonder how many people have passed by that boy without so much as a word or offer of help.  But my “thugs” stopped to try and help him.  When we got to the party, the boy from the story helped to cook and do whatever was needed for 7 hours so his friends on the street could have a nice day and a good meal.  Anytime I tried to do anything, he would say, “No, let me do it.”  The other boys helped too.  Washing dishes, fetching water, running errands.  You name it, they did it.   My “thugs” that everyone is afraid.  

At the end

You know the saying, "Separation makes the heart grow fonder"?  Well in our case, it is true.  I think....

The boys have been on holiday since the end of November and we are driving each other crazy.  

Literally. 

The honeymoon period of having me back is definitely over.   We have moved on to real life and it is hard.  Like the most difficult thing I have ever had to do  hard.  In my fairy tale world, I somehow magically expected 23 hurting, broken boys to fit into my perfect little children box that I had created for them.  Memo to me, its never going to happen.  And so, last week I got a rude wake up call.  It was particularly difficult.  Everything we could think to fight about, we did.  It left us all frustrated and feeling like we were failures as a parent.  (Ok, maybe that is just me.) But nonetheless, we are all frustrated.

Living with hurting people, is really difficult.  This past week, I realized why no one wants to deal with the older boys.  Before last week, I only knew it in theory.  But the ridiculousness that I had to deal with made me want to run for the hills or the US or actually anywhere that wasn't home.  I was at a place where I just couldn't take one more temper tantrum, one more person ignoring me or one more disagreement.  I was at the end.

Thankfully, right when I was about to snap, I saw what was important.  God gave me 2 really good days and the break from the chaos was so needed and welcome.  Four boys that I had been fighting with all weekend over a majorly bad choice of theirs, finally calmed down and we were able to have a real conversation and come to an understanding about their consequences and why I was so hard on them.  They saw I wasn't being unfair and biased and they even apologized, which they swore to me they weren't going to do.  When I asked them why they had changed their minds about apologizing and talking to me again, they responded "Because we missed you.  We didn't want to be away from you any longer."

Thank you Jesus.  I needed that.

On Monday, one of the boys that I first started with had a birthday.  He turned 16.  We had a birthday party for him and as everyone told him why they loved him (part of our parties is to appreciate the birthday boy and tell him things we like/love about him.) the smile on his face made my week.  We almost didn't make it.  He almost didn't make it.  Over the last 3 years, I almost lost him many times.  I was the only one that believed in him and had to beg people not to give up on him and to give him another chance.  Everyone told me he wouldn't change, and there was even a time when I believed the same thing.  But I loved him enough that I kept trying.  I have cried more tears over him, than any other.  And to finally celebrate a birthday with him, was the best gift I could get this holiday season.  When we cut the cake, he asked me to cut it with him. Seems simple, but its a huge honor.  Afterwards, I wanted to talk to him to tell him how proud I was of him and how much I loved him.  I told him I was so happy he stayed in the house because I knew that it wasn't easy.  I told him I was so proud of the boy he was becoming and that I knew that he had a great future ahead of him.  I told him I loved him so much and I was happy he was in my life.  Being a 16 year old boy, I figured he would hate all of the gushy, mushy stuff and be like whatever but instead, he said that he liked hearing it and I should tell him more often because it made him feel better.

Thank you Jesus.  I needed that.

It has happened time and time again.  Just when I think my heart cannot take anymore, there is a break and the boys are angels.  Just when I think the money is going to be over, it is there.  I know God is in control of this whole journey, and I am so grateful He is because I know that I cannot do it on my own.  

What do you wake up for?

Continuing with the themes from the book, “Nothing but a Thief”, the author at one point says she asked one of the boys the question, “What do you wake up for?”.  It made me stop and think.  The boy’s answer was difficult to read.  He told her that he tried to stay asleep for as long as he possibly could into the day, but eventually his hunger got the best of him and forced him to wake up and go and steal to get something to eat.  It made me think about a life where I had nothing to wake up for.  I can’t imagine such a life, but for these boys it is reality.  It is their every day when they are on the street.  Their hunger is what drives them to move out of the spaces they sleep, forces them to steal, even to take drugs.  In Peru, like many other countries, street kids take glue.  They inhale it or smoke it.  In Uganda, I have never seen a boy sniffing glue because here they sniff kyenge (expired aviation fuel).  Just like glue, it dulls their hunger, keeps them warm at night, eases their fears and takes away their emotions.  I don’t know much about addiction, but at least with the boys I know, I don’t think their addictions are physiological.  I think they are psychological.  A boy can come into a home and quit taking kyenge cold turkey.  He can be fine and not ever want to take it again until something brings up the past or something bad happens to him.  When things get too much for them that is when they go back to their kyenge, to make them not feel anything again.

After I thought about the boys and the ones still on the street, I had to find my answer.  What do I wake up for?  I think the obvious answer is the boys.  And it is true.  I do wake up every morning because of them.  They make my days worth it.  They make my days better.  They make my life better.  They make me laugh with their ridiculous notions and jokes.  They make me cry tears of happiness and joy, as well as sorrow and heartbreak.  They challenge me to be a better person: more loving and giving, more forgiving and considerate.  They teach me how I deserve to be treated and how worthy I am of love.  They protect me, care for me, help me, love me. 

I stop to think about them and their brokenness and how I hope to love them enough each day that they hurt a little less, but when I really think about it, they have done the same for me.  I see Jesus in them every day.  I wonder how I survived 30 years of my life without them in it.  When I stopped to think about my answer, I also realized how lucky I am to have a reason to wake up each morning.  I realized that many people in the world are not as fortunate.  I wake up each day with joy to spend another day doing what I love with people that I love.  Not everyone is so lucky.  I think about life before Uganda.  I didn’t have a bad life.  I had friends, a job, everything was fine.  However, every morning I dreaded waking up and going to my job (probably why I was late every morning). Even though I had everything I needed, I didn’t have a reason to wake up.  It makes me sad for all of the time wasted but I know had I came to Uganda 5 years ago, or even 10, I wouldn’t have been ready and these kids wouldn’t be the ones in my life.  The other night at devotions, our new uncle JP, asked the boys if they thought they were in the home by mistake.  While some of them didn’t get the question, most of them did.  They saw God’s hand working in our life and bringing us all together.  It is still incredible to me that God would know what would make my heart come alive and give my life meaning long before I did.  It is amazing to me that God knew these boys that would be in my life, long before I even knew Uganda existed.

For some of the boys, they are still working to find their reasons.  They had no reason for so long and have forgotten what it is to dream and have hope.  One boy in particular, is so fatalistic, he refuses to make any decisions about his life or have any dreams.  I don’t think he even knows what it is to dream.  When we ask him what he wants to do or be, he answers “I don’t know.  God knows.  Whatever He has planned is fine.”  He still doesn't get that he has all the opportunity in the world now.  If he wants to be a doctor, it could happen.  If he wanted to be a pilot, it could happen.  But instead, he sits and waits for life to happen to him. 

It is one of the most frustrating things because how do you teach someone to dream when they gave up their dreams long ago?  How do you teach someone to hope, when the streets robbed them of their hope years ago?  How can you teach someone that God has good plans for them, when they cried out to God every night for years, and finally gave up because they were convinced He wasn't listening?  How do you teach someone to take an active role in making life happen, when they had life happen to them in horrible ways at a young age?

I don’t know the answers to any of those questions.  I don’t know if I will ever have the answers but what I do know is God gave me reasons to wake up every morning.  He placed them in my life for a reason and has called me to love them.  I know I won’t change them or give them hope, but I can love them.  So each day, I will love them and continue to pray He will take care of the rest.  I also pray that I will never wake up forgetting how lucky I am to finally have a reason to wake up.

Beautiful things

I have started reading “Nothing but a Thief” by Danielle Speakman.  She worked with street kids in Lima, Peru.  I was drawn to the book because even though I feel like I somehow know the boys at home, I don’t feel like I know enough about street kids in general.  I wondered if certain things were just characteristics of these boys, or of all street kids.  I wondered if life was the same for kids on the street everywhere.  What I am realizing is the country is unimportant.  From the stories she shares, these boys could be boys in Peru and the boys in Peru could be here in Uganda.

The boys don’t always like to share about their lives on the streets.  Especially now that they have been removed from that environment, many of them want to forget that they were ever there.  They go to extremes to forget their past life and I cannot say I blame them.  When you ask them about their life or their story, they never give specifics.  They will only offer that they suffered or were beaten.  They don’t speak with emotion, but rather like they are recounting about a movie they once saw.

Even though the boys refuse to share specifics, I can guess what has happened to them.  I see the scars on their hearts and feel their anger as they lash out.  I experience the aftereffects of years of abuse and trauma.  I don’t need to hear the specifics to know that they are broken inside.  I have started reading these books to know how to help the boys better.  I know that there are people smarter than me and with more experience, and I figure I owe it to the boys to find all of the information possible to help them.

In the book, she tells about a boy that she realized was always around but she just noticed him that particular day.  I can say that the same thing has happened to me many times.  I can think of two boys, Willy and Jimmy, at least that that was the case with but I know there were others.  They were always around but something made me notice them on particular days and from that moment, I was in love.  She hasn't explained why she thought she finally noticed him on that particular day, but for me I know it was God that opened my eyes to them.  He let me see them when He knew I was ready to see them.  God’s timing is always perfect, and I saw them at the exact time when they needed to be seen. 

It is comforting and disturbing at the same time to know that there are other people around the world, working with boys like these ones, experiencing the exact same things that I am.  It is disturbing because I know only a small portion of these boys’ stories, but yet I know how gravely they suffered.  Multiply that suffering by all of the other boys, in the world, on the street and it seems unimaginable that the world can function with that much pain…

I tried to explain to someone today about my laptop and how I wasn't angry at the boy.  I tried to explain that his behavior was a result of suffering and everyone in his life betraying him but she couldn't get it.  It isn't easy allowing brokenness into your life, but beauty that comes out of it is so worth it.  I think you can only understand that when you let the brokenness in and see the redemption first hand.  I know that in time, this boy will come around again.  We will love him even more than we did before and eventually, he will believe he is worthy of the love.  He will begin to heal and trust.  Things will be different for him, because we never gave up. 

In the book, she talks about waiting for a certain boy to meet her and him refusing to show up several times.  Each time he had an excuse and each time her heart broke.  She equated it to how God waits on us.  He is waiting for us day after day, but each day we disappoint Him.  We come just close enough but then run away or make excuses because our shame is weighing us down.  It makes sense.  This boy is so hurting and broken that he doesn't believe that we really love him or maybe he does know and that terrifies him more because he doesn't believe he deserves it.  Whatever the reason, I will continue to wait because I know beautiful things will even come from him.

A broken heart and stolen computer

When I came to Uganda, I figured that my heart would be broken many times, every day even.  There have been times over the last 3 years that I thought my heart would never heal.  Some of the boys have made epically bad choices and ripped my heart out as a result.  But each time my heart has healed and we moved on.  Even though I know these boys are broken and hurting, even though I know that as a result they will hurt me, there is nothing that can prepare me for the heartache that they give me sometimes.

This week has been difficult.  On Monday, I was already ready to call it quits on the week.  My greatest fear is that I am breaking these kids further instead of helping them to heal.  One of the boys made a mistake last week and everyone was furious at him.  He ended up running away because he knew we were all angry.  My policy is to never chase a boy down.  It sounds harsh, but these boys are all old enough to know the consequences of their choices and if they don’t want to be at home, we let them go.  As a result, they always come back and have a different attitude than when they left.  When they are gone, those are the longest days of my life.  I miss them every second, but I know that it is what is best.  This boy stayed gone all weekend and we were just waiting for him to come back.  Sunday night, my laptop went missing.  At first I thought it was one of the boys because they were watching a movie earlier, so I didn’t panic.  A little bit later, I was awoken by one of the boys telling me to move my computer because someone was just in the compound.  When I told him my computer was already gone but I thought it was one of the boys, he panicked and started checking with the other boys.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be true that someone had broken in and stole my laptop.  Our first instinct was that it was the boy that ran away because he was still staying around the neighborhood just not with us.  So the uncle and boys went to find him.  Turns out, he wasn’t the one but at least he was finally home.

When we discovered it wasn’t him, we all knew who it was and my heart broke.  We had been letting a boy come and stay at the house every once in a while.  I have known this boy since I first got to Uganda and the uncle even longer.  I love this kid so much and was just wondering how to help him.  Monday morning, our suspicions were confirmed.  It was in fact him.  The worst was he brought two other boys to the house to rob us.  They were going to take other things but all they could get was my computer because I left it on my desk by the window while I went to talk to the other auntie.  The good thing was we got the computer back but they moved so quickly, that everything had already been erased.  (On a happy note, because they moved so quickly, all of the problems with my computer were fixed.  Problems that I was told in the US couldn't be fixed without buying a new motherboard.) I am sad for my photos and my work but nothing compares to the ache I feel in my heart for this boy.  We were probably his last hope.  He has screwed up all of his other chances with other people and I was just hoping that it would be different with us.  I don’t blame him for taking my computer.  I can’t imagine his life.  I have never been so desperate that I felt like my only option was to steal from one of the last people that still loved me.  

The worst was when he came back to the house to apologize to me.  Maybe he realized the consequences of his actions, maybe it was just an act.  I don’t know.  But his apology seemed sincere.  He sobbed as he told me.  He looked more broken than usual.  

I don’t believe in giving up on people, especially these boys.  But it is hard.  So hard.  To try and try and try and have the result be the same is defeating.  It makes me feel like a failure and makes my heart feel like it can’t take anymore.  I don’t know what we will do with the boy that stole the computer but I told him I still loved him and forgave him but we were all upset and just needed time.  I am sure that this won’t be his last time to disappoint me, but still we will try again.  After all, things are only things but people are people and his life is worth more to me than any photo or document. 

When the boy that ran away came back, we sat down as a family to counsel him about his behaviors and encourage him to change.  Like I mentioned before, sometimes I worry I am breaking these boys more than I am fixing them.   As I sat in the meeting, watching a boy that I love so much hurting, I wondered if we actually broke him.  He wasn’t the vibrant boy I knew, but just a sad shell.  As one of the boys spoke, I was reassured that maybe we were doing more good than harm.  He told him how lucky they were to be here because I know how to forgive.  He told him that if he was in any other home, they would have chased him away by now but I keep giving him chance after chance because I love them all like they are my own children.  At least he gets it.  At least they know how much I love them and how much I am willing to fight and sacrifice for them.  

Things aren’t really better, but I cling to hope.  Hope that they will get how loved they are.  Hope that this time it will be different.  Hope that they will heal.  Hope that they will change.

A new family

This past week, I had a disagreement with one of the boys.  It was something simple that started over one of the puppies but quickly escalated because he is a bit dramatic and I am really stubborn and wanted to prove my point.  The result was we didn’t speak for the better part of last week.  Neither of us willing to concede, we just avoided each other.   Good thing this isn’t a parenting advice blog…

Anyway, we finally made up last night.  He came to my window and informed me he needed to talk.  I invited him in and right away, he said he was sorry and told me he made a mistake and wanted to be forgiven.  I told him that I had already forgiven him and was just waiting on him to talk to me.

I love this boy more than anything.  We have a long history together and I worked so hard to get him to love me.  I prayed, I fasted, I begged God to bring him close but on the streets he was just far enough away.  People warned me about him.  They told me he was stubborn and loved to fight.  They told me he would never survive in a home and couldn’t change.  I knew better but I didn’t know how to reach him.

I am so thankful that he is home with us.  It took so much work but I am glad he is here.  As we sat talking last night, I told him “Life is better when we aren’t fighting, isn’t it?”  He quickly agreed.  Life is better.  Today he didn’t have school and he was glued to my side most of the day, asking for help with his work, teaching me Luganda, listening to music in my room.  Life is better with him in it.

Last night as we talked, I reminded him how he used to not like me and asked him why.  He laughed at first and told me I knew.  When I told him I didn’t, he got quiet.  Finally he said, “Because you were going back to America and you were leaving me in kivulu.”  I forgot what a risk it was for these boys to love.  Maybe I never understood to begin with.  But he didn’t want to like me, let alone love me, because he knew soon I would be gone and I would be one more person that broke his heart.

As we continued to talk, he told me many things.  Sometimes, I forget our situation and where these boys came from because this is just life now, we are just family.  But sometimes one of them will come out of nowhere and remind me just how lucky we all are and how special our situation is.  He told me that he loved me because I gave him his life back.  A sixteen year old, telling me he has his life back.  Why did it even disappear to begin with?  He was 14 when he came home to me and spent I don’t know how many years before that on the streets, without hope and closed off because he had been hurt too many times before.

He began talking about his family and saying he had none.  His father wasn’t a good man, he died a drunk and his mom is gone too.  Before I could even offer that we were family, he told me, “Except you.  I only have you.”

Yesterday was Orphan Sunday.  It was supposed to be the day that Christians around the world came together to work and advocate on behalf of the millions and millions of orphans in the world.  Did you know that if only 7% of the world’s Christians adopted one orphan, there would be no more orphans?  These boys are all I have and I am all they have.  I can’t continue to care for them without your help.  By committing to giving only $10 a month, you will help to feed a boy one meal a day for the month.  Want to do more?  Consider sponsoring one of the boys and getting to know first-hand how amazing they are.  You will be helping to change their lives and let them know that they have someone else.  Please prayerfully consider making a difference in their lives.  Visit our website for more information.

Thank you in advance for wanting to help change these boys' lives!

Always where I fail, God steps in. 

And we are so lucky that He does.

Kansiime

When one of the boys(Kansiime) joined the home, I begged him to go to school.  I knew how smart he was and that he would do really well in school.  The problem was he was 18 years old, had never studied before and is one of the tallest Ugandans that I have ever seen.  He had to start at third grade and he was taller than absolutely everyone in school, including his teacher.  He felt so bad about it, that he begged me not to make him go.  We tried encouraging him, bribing him, everything we could think of but nothing changed his mind.  These boys face such difficulties at school and everyone makes fun of them, including their teachers.  He couldn't handle it.  So he begged to go to vocational training. 

Another boy(Davis) had studied recently but didn't like it.  He still couldn't read even though he had been at school for 2 years before he joined us.  He begged not to go back to school because he claimed he wasn't good at it and would waste everyone’s time.  School here can be pretty awful.  It is all memorization and no critical thinking.  If you can’t read or speak English well, you will just get pushed along.  There are usually 50-100 other students in class with you and the ONE teacher doesn't have time to care if you can read or not.  He is also 18 years old and asked to go to vocational training.  No amount of begging could change his mind otherwise.

Davis

Maybe it was God’s plan all along for the money for vocational training to never come in and all of our plans to fail.  Who knows?  But the boys have been waiting patiently since the beginning of this year.  The apprenticeships are so expensive and it just hasn't happened.  We are all frustrated by it but no one more so than the boys.  They were eager to get started and start life on their own.  They are ambitious and want to work, so they have been passing time by finding odd jobs around our community.

Then God showed up.

The beginning of last week, I was teaching Kansiime at home.  In a matter of 10 minutes, he learned how to tell time perfectly.  The next day after seeing 2 problems he learned how to add when you have to carry.  I told him how smart he was and begged him to go to school again.  He agreed if he could join 7^th grade.  There is a lot of work to be done to get him ready for primary grade 7, but at least we have hope now.  I never thought he would agree, but I know God changed his heart.

The same day that Kansiime agreed to go back to school, Davis went with the uncle to get firewood for cooking.  They found an older man there that started counseling them on going to school and wasting their chance.  He told them that he didn't have the chance to study when he was younger, so he is going back to school now even though he is so old.  He talked and talked to them and Davis just sat there quietly listening.  On the way home, he told the uncle he heard the advice the man gave him and realized he had been making a mistake and wasting time and he should also be in school.  He told me the same as soon as he got home.  It is a rare day when Davis is home during the afternoon.  He helps at a shop at the end of our street almost every day.  God definitely stepped in to make Davis home and make him go with the uncle that day. 

What are the chances that in the same day, both boys realized that they should be in school?  Also what are the chances that just two days prior, we learned of an accelerated school for adults where students can move through each grade in only a few months?

I know it was God’s plan all along for these boys to be in school but they just weren't ready for it before but they are now and everything is coming together for them to go.  We are working at home with them to better their English and reading skills and plan for them to start school in January. 

Would you like to help them go back to school?  $50 a month will pay for their school fees each month, transportation to school and all requirements.  Visit here for more information on sponsorship or to sign up.  Feel free to email any questions to lot2545 at gmail dot com.

Thank you in advance for your help!