Joke lang. I’m not moving to the Philippines, yet….
Okay, first things first.
1) This blog is ridiculously long, but I believe it’s worth the read. Get comfortable, grab some coffee and read on (:
2) Sorry I haven’t blogged in a while. I haven’t felt super motivated to write anything – until now!
3) I have two weeks left of the race. No comment.
I was excited about entering my last month of ministry, but I would have never guessed it would be the first ministry on the race to wreck my world and absolutely break my heart. The race has affected me in many ways and my heart has been broken for people and other ministries, but nothing like what I experienced this past week. I wanted to share just a glimpse of what I’ve been doing this month!
This month, my team and I are doing ministry with street kids, but it’s not just any ministry! We get to have camp with the kids! We live at an old church camp in the mountains with a guy named Marlon, Kuya Ryan, and his family. (Kuya means older brother in Tagalog) They host two camps every month, one for the boys and one for the girls. To get the kids to camp, Kuya Ryan travels into Manila (capital city of the Philippines & relatively close to where we live) to pick them up. They get to spend some time in the mountains, being kids: they eat (A LOT), play basketball (A LOT) and have a safe place to lay their head. It’s truly an incredible thing!
This week was our first week of camp. It was BOYS CAMP!
A few of my teammates and I went with Kuya Ryan to pick up the boys for camp. We traveled awhile away, riding three different Jeeps to get there and walked a ways until we reached the boys. The first kids we saw were two girls. They were young girls, twirling and wobbling their way down the street. At first glance, I thought the girls were just happy and dancing around, but then Kuya told us they were high. These twelve year old girls were high from sniffing paint thinner. (On the streets, the most common drug for the kids to use is paint thinner. They will put the thinner on a rag and sniff it until they feel the effects; they usually sniff it all day long. It not only gives them a high for a few hours, but also suppresses their appetite and could eventually make them pass out.)
It was heart breaking to see those little girls high, but that was just the beginning…Word got out that Kuya Ryan was there for the boys. Kid after kid started to come, jumping all over Kuya. They were not afraid of us either; they wanted to know our names and hug on us just as much. As we were waiting for all the boys to come, I noticed what was happening around me. Kids from the ages of six to eighteen were all around: sniffing paint thinner, begging for money, and messing around. Like I said before, this is just the beginning of the heart break.
Kuya got a group of fourteen boys together and we started toward the Jeep (public transportation in the Philippines). On the way to the Jeeps, a boy named Angelo grabbed my hand and held it the entire way there. I knew these boys were special, but I didn’t know how much they would capture my heart. Anyways, we walked for a while, passing people who stared us down, probably wondering why in the world some white girls were holding the hands of street boys. Eventually, we somehow all made it on a Jeep together. Once we got going and the boys settled in, they started singing to each other and falling asleep. I looked at Kaela (one of my teammates) and we both smiled, agreeing with each other that these boys were adorable. This was also the point when I realized how absolutely precious these boys were.
We got to camp, the boys ate and then fell asleep. They next day, we took them to the river! We spent all day at the river, playing and eating, letting the boys just be boys. They played in the water for hours, having the time of their lives. Then the next morning came. This was the day the boys had to leave. This was the morning that the emotions came, hitting me like a wave.
The morning felt good. I walked out, with my coffee in hand, watching the boys play basketball. Occasionally, one of the boys would come up to me to hug my waist or hold my hand. I felt like such a mom in those moments. Honestly, I imagined what my life would be like if I was the mom to these boys. What if I moved to the Philippines, bought a house and raised them? I was surprisingly okay with that thought. I could move my life to the Philippines if it meant I could love these boys forever. I don’t know if that’s where God is leading me, but I would be down if He was! Then the morning passed and noon hit; the atmosphere at camp changed. The boys started to act differently; they were quiet and not as energetic. They knew what was coming: they were going to have to leave and go back “home”.
Before the boys left camp, I was sitting with Marlon on the steps. I asked him if he was sad to see the boys leave. He looked away from me and said “I just don’t know what they are going to do tomorrow. They are going back to an entirely different world.” Once the boys left, my heart was crumbled. I sat on the steps in utter heart break because of those boys leaving. Marlon was telling me “Don’t cry, don’t cry.” When he realized that wasn’t working, he started talking. He explained a little of what the boy’s lives are like on the streets. He explained the vicious cycle they get stuck in: addiction to drugs and the street lifestyle. But then he explained the purpose of the camp. Camp is to get the boys away from the streets, to show them there is more to life than what there are currently living in. It’s there to restore their hope and open their eyes.
I didn’t realize how true the “different world” and “vicious cycle” part of what Marlon said, until my teammates came from back taking the boys “home”. My teammates saidthe boy’s demeanor changed immediately once they were back on the streets. They already had cigarettes and drugs in their hands while walking away. These boys don’t get to act like boys on the street; they have to protect themselves and put on a brave face. It’s heart breaking, but there’s not much a person or camp can do for them once they leave. The boys need to decide for themselves whether they want to leave the streets or not. Until then, all you can do is show them love and hope, and pray to a trustworthy God to protect them.
A true testimony of the street kid’s camp is Marlon himself. Marlon used to be one of those street boys, living and addicted to the cycle of street life. He came to camp several times and with some time he decided to leave the streets. He now works at the church, counseling boys that were just like him. For the boys who decide to leave the streets, their life will be hard. I don’t want to lie to you by saying their lives will be perfect and easy once they leave the streets because that’s not the reality. The boys will have to make hard choices by going back to school, finding a place to live and a place to work. I honestly sit here, writing this, with no answers for you. I don’t know where those precious boys will go if they leave the streets, but I know and trust God to guide them. Who knows, maybe someone will open up a house for them! I don’t know, but I trust God!
I can’t even explain to you how great these boys are though. They have the cutest faces, stylish haircuts and smiles that kill. They sing Justin Bieber and Drake, play game after game of basketball and eat piles of food. Those boys are heart throbs and lady killers, let me tell ya. But they’re just boys, just like every other. The sad part is that they don’t get the chance, very often, to just be boys. Except at camp! When you take them away from the streets, they radiate joy. There is no trace of sadness, just joy. The hardest thing for me was knowing what their lives could look like. They are so young and have so much life ahead of them. They are way too young to be living on their own, in the streets, trying to survive. They are too precious not to feel loved and they are certainly too loved not to know they are loved.
On the race, I have not been affected as much as I have this week. These boys affected me. Turned my world upside down. They stopped me, dead in my tracks, to steal my heart. They changed my life and I say that with all seriousness. I don’t know what God intends to do with the love I have for these boys; whether it be to move to the Philippines and dedicate my life to loving them or loving them from afar. Whatever it is, I know loving on street boys is my passion and something I want to pursue. I pray and hope with everything that I am to be back someday, to love these boys even harder and better than I did. I pray for those boys, those sweet lovable boys.
Much love,
Bailey
