Abby’s parents were in town this week, and they are amazing! On Monday, after spending some time in the city, the 5 of us (me, Abby, David and her parents) went out to the village to visit our Forever Home boys. That night, Abby had the idea to cook a Mexican meal for all the boys. At 8:30pm me, Lauren and Abby assembled in the tiny kitchen to begin. We realized we would need a little help, since we were running late. The boys all jumped in right away! Drissa, Mondae, Emma, Masoke, Ibra, Amos, Ashlaf, and little and big Bashil all squeezed into the little kitchen with us, grabbed knives and got to work. It was so fun, all of us in the little kitchen making Mexican together. Me and big Bashil got to work on the guacamole. We cut avocados, and debated the best way to dice them (my way being superior, obviously :) We chopped and sliced tomatoes and peppers, and added about a cup of salt. Cutting the onions made us both cry a ton, which was funny because we were both sniffing and dabbing our eyes every two seconds. Overall the meal was good, and the boys really enjoyed it, but the best part was cooking it with them. There is nothing quite like bonding over a little charcoal stove. Our little tiny kitchen, crammed with people, was overflowing with laughter and love.
The next morning (which was actually earlier today...) we all got up and headed over to the younger boys home. Abby’s parents bought the boys a trampoline, and all the boys had gathered to play. Abby got out a ton of card games, and we all broke into groups playing various games. Mondae got out Memory Match, which I LOVE, and we played a few very intense rounds (for the record, we tied twice, and both won once). Abby and little Ibra (who just joined the house a few days ago!) got out Go Fish and me and Mondae played that as well. Playing with Mondae was great- we laughed and laughed and were super competitive, but it was okay because he knows how much I love him.
Doing anything with a big group of the boys is fun for two reasons. First, because they are (mostly) teenage boys, and they just make me laugh. They do and say funny things all the time. For example, when making dinner, Emma decided he was going to make a song about guacamole, which was great because he could hardly pronounce the foreign word. Listening to him sing, and the other boys chiming in with their own renditions was hysterical. Its also fun because I know them all so well. I know their personalities and hearts, but like any “parent” I love discovering new things about them as they grow up. I have poured into their lives for the last three years, and am especially close to all the older boys. I can joke with them, and not worry about offending them. Its easy to be with them, and I find my time with them to be really relaxing. Honestly many of my fondest memories here are lazy Saturdays and Sundays spent like yesterday; just hanging out, doing nothing but building relationships and pouring into these kids. I love those boys so deeply, and am so proud of them, I cannot say it enough.
Tonight at dinner, we were commenting on how far the boys have really come. How drastic their healing is. Some of these kids honestly looked hopeless when they first came home. They were so broken, their attachment so dysfunctional it looked beyond repair. I think a few of them would have become true sociopaths if they hadn’t come home. They would have grown into men who beat their wives or girlfriends, and left their families. They would have become drunks, or gang members. Now they are growing into men of Christ. They have love and respect for women, and are going to make great fathers. Sometimes I hear people say they don’t believe God preforms miracles in the same way He used to. Those people don’t see what I see. Our boys are a miracle; God saved them, and His love is healing them. People should stop looking for miracles like bread falling from the sky, or seas to part (not that God couldn’t do that). Our boys are healing one day at a time. The changes are small on a day to day basis, but looking back at the past three years, they seem unreal. If you really want to see God preform miracles, try looking at the small stuff.
The next morning (which was actually earlier today...) we all got up and headed over to the younger boys home. Abby’s parents bought the boys a trampoline, and all the boys had gathered to play. Abby got out a ton of card games, and we all broke into groups playing various games. Mondae got out Memory Match, which I LOVE, and we played a few very intense rounds (for the record, we tied twice, and both won once). Abby and little Ibra (who just joined the house a few days ago!) got out Go Fish and me and Mondae played that as well. Playing with Mondae was great- we laughed and laughed and were super competitive, but it was okay because he knows how much I love him.
Doing anything with a big group of the boys is fun for two reasons. First, because they are (mostly) teenage boys, and they just make me laugh. They do and say funny things all the time. For example, when making dinner, Emma decided he was going to make a song about guacamole, which was great because he could hardly pronounce the foreign word. Listening to him sing, and the other boys chiming in with their own renditions was hysterical. Its also fun because I know them all so well. I know their personalities and hearts, but like any “parent” I love discovering new things about them as they grow up. I have poured into their lives for the last three years, and am especially close to all the older boys. I can joke with them, and not worry about offending them. Its easy to be with them, and I find my time with them to be really relaxing. Honestly many of my fondest memories here are lazy Saturdays and Sundays spent like yesterday; just hanging out, doing nothing but building relationships and pouring into these kids. I love those boys so deeply, and am so proud of them, I cannot say it enough.
Tonight at dinner, we were commenting on how far the boys have really come. How drastic their healing is. Some of these kids honestly looked hopeless when they first came home. They were so broken, their attachment so dysfunctional it looked beyond repair. I think a few of them would have become true sociopaths if they hadn’t come home. They would have grown into men who beat their wives or girlfriends, and left their families. They would have become drunks, or gang members. Now they are growing into men of Christ. They have love and respect for women, and are going to make great fathers. Sometimes I hear people say they don’t believe God preforms miracles in the same way He used to. Those people don’t see what I see. Our boys are a miracle; God saved them, and His love is healing them. People should stop looking for miracles like bread falling from the sky, or seas to part (not that God couldn’t do that). Our boys are healing one day at a time. The changes are small on a day to day basis, but looking back at the past three years, they seem unreal. If you really want to see God preform miracles, try looking at the small stuff.
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