Today, I felt what I imagine to be a mother’s
heart.
We have been doing a conference at the church this week, and the
majority of the crowd has consisted of street kids. I’ve been a bit discouraged
by the fact that they all come in high on glue, incoherent to most of the
things we have to say. It’s been a challenge for me to know how to even love
them, because I can’t even begin to relate to the things they’re going through.
Some of these kids were born on the streets, and some of them have run away
from home because of abusive parents or other such hardships. The streets are
safer for them than their homes, sadly enough.
with the kids to Kenyan worship music and trying to bond with them in whatever way
we could muster. We then broke for lunch, and five of us from Judah headed to
our favorite cafe. Not long after sitting down, Marisa showed up with three
street kids, exuberantly proclaiming, “I found him a home! He’s going to have a
home!”
weren’t able to get too many details out of her at that point. And then just as
quickly as she arrived, Marisa was gone with one of the boys, leaving us with
two others. They sat down with us, and we ordered them a couple of Cokes.
and we couldn’t really communicate with them, but we did find out that they
were thirteen and eleven years old and starving for affection. Halfway through,
the eleven-year-old left the table, so our attentions focused on the other. I
couldn’t even make out his name, but he was awfully mischievious with a big,
white smile. He began to pull at my heart strings, and my motherly instincts
soon came out. My heart longed to hold him and tell him that he was loved. At
the same time, I scolded him for grabbing for things instead of asking, and
eventually he learned to say please and thank-you.
This kid lives on the street. I think we’ve seen
him at the church every time we’ve gone, and his wardrobe consists of one,
filthy outfit. Even so, when he came over to sit on my lap, I welcomed him in.
He instantly grabbed my arms and wrapped them around himself, and we sat and
rocked for awhile. He began playing with my hair, and it was so obvious that he
is starved for affection. He even called me Mother at one point. This kid, so
rough on the outside, is really just a baby on the inside. It’s the sin of this
world that has caused him to resort to the type of lifestyle he’s living.
today. I wanted nothing more than to love this precious child and take him home
to live with me, to clean him up and raise him to be a man of character and a
man after God’s own heart. Sure, he’s got a lot of behavioral issues and things
to work through, but there is something in him crying out to be more than just
a street kid. We’ve met adults still living on the streets, and it breaks my
heart to think that he could end up as that man some day if intervention
doesn’t happen. I feel so helpless when I see so many kids in the same
situation with nothing more than prayers for deliverance and God’s mercy.
And then…
Upon returning home this afternoon, we found Marisa with a young boy by the
name of Allen sitting on the couch. Through a series of crazy events beginning
with discovering a large gash on this boy’s hand, God opened the doors to give
Allen a new home and a new beginning! He literally changed the course of this
former street kid’s life today, and we have been given the privilege of sitting
back and watching God do a miracle. I don’t want to reveal too many of the
details, but I highly encourage you to hop on Marisa’s blog and read this
amazing story of God’s grace for yourself!
The moral of my story is that there is hope.
There is always hope for the hopeless and homes for the homeless. WE are called
to be the hands and feet of Christ, and it takes action on our part. The best
part is that God does all the work, and all we have to do is listen and obey as
Marisa did today. Keep praying for these children!
