Lying in an empty bed, I decided I would share with everyone as much as I can about my current journey. But pictures are not allowed in the inpatient drug rehabilitation program I have spent my last week enrolled in, here in Colombia.
The primary reason for this rule is that many of the men in this program still have people looking for them. Whether it was a drug deal gone wrong, the inevitable end to gang conflicts, or simply their victims or victims' families looking for vengeance, these men's privacy, in many cases literally, is a matter of life and death. Broken families, broken lives, and broken hearts fill the air here in Medellin. Hopelessness is the strongest aversion to growth and it is prominent in this place. Nevertheless, Fundacion Ciudad Refugio continues to provide a place where men can come to escape their addictions to drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, violence, or any other vice that binds them in chains of self-deprecation.
I was nervous enrolling my first day. I would be submitting myself to the authority of the program for the next seven days. Something new for me. The rules are rigid. Follow the schedule from the time you wake up at 5am till lights out at 9pm. Meals must take no more than 10-15 minutes and no one is allowed to sit at the table. Buckets of water make up your showers, your clothes washer and the way you flush the toilets. Chores include sweeping the street, mopping the six flights of stairs each day, taking care of the dog, and cleaning the bathrooms. Of the three prayer times each day, two of them must be done standing or walking. (So that no one is falling asleep.) Classes and lectures must be attended with proper attention to avoid receiving "disciplina." It is a strict program of discipline, but it proves necessary and is given in love for men who have spent their entire lives without any structure except where the next hit is coming from or who the gang is going to roll.
After a few days, I fell into the routine as a new normal. I began to see some of the fruit that the program bares. Not only do these men receive a foundation in their lives, but they share it with others also. Some of the more advanced members of the program operate the ministries of the foundation, including the discounted street bakery, the recycling program, and the shelter that provides a night's rest to 50-60 men each night 365 days a year.
On Saturday the opportunity arose to share with the men in the program and the homeless men who come to the shelter a message in their weekly worship service. I shared with them my personal testimony. The men and my time in the program had changed me. I shared not only my personal testimony, but all the gritty details along the way. As I shared with these men stories of violent anger and sexual immorality, I asked them to raise their hands if they had experienced similar situations. And as I expressed to them "Yo tambien," I could see on their faces a more vested interest in what I was sharing. Throughout my story, a power came over me that I had not prepared for. I described how the church and Spirit of God had changed my life. I described how He wants to change their lives as well, if only they would be willing to let him. I asked who was tired of struggling to satisfy their own desires, only to find that it is a neverending pursuit. I was humbly in awe as 2/3rds of the men in the program and 1/3rd of the homeless men stepped up to the front.
Earlier in the day, I had prayed that God would reach into these men's hearts to change their lives and that I would simply be used to do it. By this time in my story, I was hardly forming the words. It felt more that I was hearing them, as though they were being shared with me as much as the audience itself. I was grateful to have the opportunity to pray for these men as we closed the service. I walked through the group of hardened gangsters, hopeless drug addicts, and wandering vagrants, touching each man's head or shoulder as I prayed for him. And as the tears rolled down their cheeks, I saw hearts soften, hope restored, and a new foundation built upon love. After the service came to a close, I sat down, looked up, and thanked God for what I had just been a part of. Then I helped stack the chairs, break down the sound stage, and returned to my bunk with five other men.
Over the course of the next few days, I would have many opportunities to answer questions about how to deal with anger, how to control one's emotions and how we must choose to face life in a new way. I was incredibly grateful for what these men have taught me through their experiences, interactions and longing for understanding. As I exited the program, I asked them all to remember that they are destined for a greater purpose than drugs or other addictions would tell them. I thanked them for teaching me the same.
We are all designed to be greater than our bad habits. We must also remember we are designed to be greater than our good habits. When we sacrifice not part of our lives, but our lives in their entirety to the Spirit who longs to be our strength. Then we will be rewarded with a new life… a life that is better than any we could picture for ourselves.
