Month 9: Honduras. The whole of iSquad is tenting and serving together this month at Zion’s Gate in Tegucigalpa. Each team has a different schedule, spending time doing different ministries. One day this month each team has a “day out” with Tony, the director of Zion’s Gate.
The Dry Bones headed out with Tony along with Carlos, one of the boys who has been living on the property with Tony for five years. The plan for the day was to go out for lunch, take Carlos shopping, and then find Carlos’ mom for a short visit. We didn’t really know what to expect because we hadn’t been off the Zion’s Gate property except to visit the mall on a day off. Tegucigalpa is a tough city, and the neighborhoods that make up the city are full of crime, drugs, and gangs.
We devoured a delicious lunch at a Chinese restaurant and then set out to help Carlos find a Mother’s Day gift for his mom. Although this 14 year old boy hasn’t lived at home for several years and has suffered with an absent mother and lack of a stable family, he still loves her and wanted to give her a gift. It was sweet watching him browse different options and consider what his mom might appreciate.
He finally settled on a lotion and chocolate, picking out a pretty gift bag for the presentation. I could see his nerves bubbling up as the reunion with his mom was quickly becoming a reality. We packed back into the SUV and started driving toward La Kennedy, a neighborhood where Carlos’ mom usually spends her days. Tony explained that it might take some time for us to find her, but he expected she would be at one of five dumpsters.
The first dumpster we checked only had teenage boys, but as we passed Tony and Carlos recognized one of the boys. Brian, a kid who had been at Zion’s Gate two years ago, but didn’t like the rules or authority. We turned the car around and pulled up onto the curb. Brian responded when they called his name, but wandered over looking clueless. It was then that I noticed the rag in his hand and the plastic bottle sticking out of his pocket. He was high. From paint thinner. I had heard that many of the street kids in Tegucigalpa spend their days sniffing paint thinner to take away their hunger pains and to escape the difficulties of their life. But this was the first time I saw it. I winced.
This is the life of a young man. He has so much ahead of him and so much that he could accomplish. This is not the way God wants His children to live. So much suffering. The lack of love and care. Choosing to be numb over feeling pain. Choosing to escape life rather than live it.
Tony’s vision for street kids changes all that. He asked Brian some questions. Simple questions. “When is your birthday, Brian?” Brian stared at the ground. No response. He can’t remember. Tony told Brian he’s welcome to return to Zion’s Gate if he’s willing to abide by the rules. Brian seemed so distant and unresponsive, but Tony told him he’d check up on him again soon.
I wondered what Carlos thought of this whole interaction. This could have been Carlos. This was Carlos. God’s grace pulled Carlos out of this life and had kept him out. And God’s grace can bring Brian out of it too.
We pulled away feeling heavy about Brian, but excited and supportive of Carlos. We checked the four remaining dumpsters in La Kennedy to no avail. Carlos’ mom was nowhere in sight. Tony got on the phone, and Amy asked Carlos to pray and ask God to help us find his mom. Within minutes, we heard that she was in Los Pinos.
Driving up into the high hills of Tegucigalpa to Sector F of Los Pinos, we were greeted by the sounds of gunshots. I tensed. Tony instructed us to not take anything out of the car with us that we wouldn’t want to be taken. We climbed the rocky steep steps made of old Pepsi crates through trash and debris to find Carlos’ home perched on the side of the mountain.
His mom was there, along with her boyfriend, and Carlos’ older brother. Evidence of more drugs. A messy two-room house filled with trash, dirt, and bugs. Again, this is not how life is meant to be lived.
Carlos and his mom embraced. He handed her the gift bag. She smiled and kissed his cheek. They sat down in a corner of the house and talked. The rest of us waited outside. The view was incredible. The sun was starting to set and the lights of the city came on.
We chatted with some neighbor girls, Carlos’ brother’s girlfriend and a cousin. Their clothes were torn and dirty. They sang some Justin Bieber songs and danced. They joked around. Just the way 13 year olds do.
Carlos and his mom emerged from the house. We took some pictures. Shared hugs. I told her that she has a wonderful son. She seemed embarrassed. I wonder if she misses her son. I wonder if she knows he has a better life and chance for a future outside of Los Pinos. I wonder if she knows her worth and beauty.
I am really thankful for our day out with Tony and Carlos. I experienced and saw new things with the filter of the Father’s eyes on mine. How His heart must break.
Father God, you are the giver of all good things.
It is you who gives and takes away.
But my heart will choose to say, “Blessed be Your Name.”
Thank you for Carlos and for the hope and future you have given to him. Thank you for Tony and the love he has for the street kids. Lord, give these people your hope and let them experience your love.
