Loving the Kevins of the World

In Puerto Barrios, our ministry contact had some young men working for him. One of them, who became our guide (who kept us from getting into too much trouble in Puerto Barrios)/translator/everything else in between, was a 19 year old named Kevin. He played guitar, so we connected on that level. We also lived under the same roof and were forced to learn how to communicate between my broken broken spanish and his slightly broken english. By the middle of the month, I’d gotten real close to him – he was becoming my best friend in Guatemala. The name, however, and hearing it over and over and over again started bringing the pain back. Realizing that I was beginning to love and care about another Kevin really hurt and I didn’t understand why. I began to realize that I was still sorting through a lot of things regarding my friend’s death.

Fastforward to Nicaragua. One of the 15 year olds who lived close to the New Life Center where I lived, his name was Kevin. He was always around the center, and while part of me wanted to avoid him, I knew that I hadn’t signed up for this trip to avoid people. So. It took a lot of patience, but he quickly became the best friend I had there in Jinotepe. I found out that he lives with his mom, he has 3 older sisters. His dad was brutally and senselessly murdered back in 2006 – and it’s left a large hole in their hearts.

We had a lot of conversations…normally it was just outside the main building after all the kids had gone home and my team was inside. We’d just sit outside under the stars and talk for hours more often than not, trying to understand each other and really getting some good conversations in. Sometimes we’d write back and forth to each other in my notebook. Sometimes we’d write back and forth in the dirt. Somehow, and someway, we demolished the language barrier and grew pretty close to each other.

After Jinotepe was Debrief in Granada. Some of the squad was staying at the AIM base, and some of the squad was staying at a hostel on Gringo Street. We’d have our sessions, worship, and meals at the AIM base. At the AIM base they had a couple birds that ran around – funny looking little birds with awkward long legs – and wouldn´t you know it? One of them was named Kevin.
Really.
I’m being serious.

And when I found out the bird’s name was Kevin, I laughed. I had to. Because I think at that point, I realized that God was doing something, and that it was on purpose. I was frustrated. I was angry. Why, God? Why are you allowing me to meet Kevin’s everywhere? Why can’t I have a break? And for a while, the only reason I got was that I was clearly still a mess if loving the Kevins of the world was proving to be so painful. So I allowed God to work with me on that.
But.
It didn’t just stop with that. God didn’t put me through 3 collisions with Kevins just to remind me that I still had some healing to go. Later into Debrief He also told me this: 

                                                                                 It’s ok to remember. See? I am remembering too.

It hit me then – God doesn’t forget the brokenness in our hearts. He doesn’t forget the losses we’ve gone through, the deaths we’ve grieved through, the hard times we’d often rather not think about. He was gently reminding me that I will never forget my friend and brother Kevin Walker…and He was reminding me that He won’t forget that the pain of losing someone sticks around for us. He also has given me friendships that I will never forget – they´ve been a beautiful blessing and I wouldn´t trade those Kevins for the world…even that ridiculous bird.

There’s a little piece of what’s been going on in my head for the last 2 months!

I wonder if I’ll be meeting a Kevin this month…