On Wednesday we did a night outreach. Me, Abby, David, Amy and two visitors went out at night to see our kids. We found them in Wandegyre, hopping around in the traffic. Its dark, and cars are going super fast, and here are my kids jumping up and down on the center divide. They are there hoping someone has a window rolled down, so they can beg for money.
We called them over, and talked with them for awhile, then they showed us where they sleep. They lead us down a super narrow and long alley, past all the shops and crowds. We ended up in a very shady party of the alley where there were no lights at all. There was a container (shipping container) that someone had abandoned. The boys had laid down cardboard there, and were sleeping inside it. I won’t lie, it smelled like a dog kennel and I saw a rat. But the worst part is that right across the way, in this very narrow alley, is where all the prostitutes sell. Already, they were out and had customers. They probably use the containers to do business, and certainly the boys are exposed to it every night. We gave them food and prayed with them. Then we said goodnight, and I went back to my safe and comfortable house. I slept in my safe and warm bed- but all night I thought of my boys sleeping on the cold metal ground.
My heart was broken all over again.
This heartbreak is unending. I see these things every day, and you’d think I would “get use to them” but I don’t. You would think I would understand that its “just the way things are” but I don’t. Its not right. Anger rises up in me- this is injustice. It feels like I am betraying them because I have such good things. And while I know I need to take care of myself so I can take care of them, it still feels wrong not to give more of myself (even if there is not much else I can give). My heart breaks again and again, every day. This must be how God feels- its miserable but its also right. If I didn’t feel this pain, I wouldn’t be suitable for this job anymore. Being shocked at the cruelties I see is part of what I do. It keeps my heart close to these boys, keeps my mind focused on what I am doing.
Today, I had an intense conversation with one of my boys. He was telling me about some really terrible things that happened to him, and how sad and hurt he was by them. He didn’t understand why these bad things happened to him, and he was angry. And watching him struggle with pain far greater than I have ever known, I felt my own heart tearing. It was like emotional pain was overflowing from his heart, and as I watched his tears, I felt my own start to fall. He looked up at me, and said “Auntie Kate, you shouldn’t cry for me. This is my pain, so don’t cry”. But he was wrong, and I told him so. I told him that he was my family, and the bible says we share things with those we love. We share joy and sorrows, and so his pain is my pain. And while I cannot fix or change anything, I can at least share his sorrows and help him carry this grief.
Some days I think I will shatter, but God is my glue. He holds me together, so I can break anew each day. While that seems backwards, I think its exactly how things are supposed to be. I see people every day who stopped caring. Their hearts became hard and jaded. They tricked themselves into thinking that the problems of the hurting are for someone else to deal with.
So I am grateful for my heartbreak, because it means I have a heart.
We called them over, and talked with them for awhile, then they showed us where they sleep. They lead us down a super narrow and long alley, past all the shops and crowds. We ended up in a very shady party of the alley where there were no lights at all. There was a container (shipping container) that someone had abandoned. The boys had laid down cardboard there, and were sleeping inside it. I won’t lie, it smelled like a dog kennel and I saw a rat. But the worst part is that right across the way, in this very narrow alley, is where all the prostitutes sell. Already, they were out and had customers. They probably use the containers to do business, and certainly the boys are exposed to it every night. We gave them food and prayed with them. Then we said goodnight, and I went back to my safe and comfortable house. I slept in my safe and warm bed- but all night I thought of my boys sleeping on the cold metal ground.
My heart was broken all over again.
This heartbreak is unending. I see these things every day, and you’d think I would “get use to them” but I don’t. You would think I would understand that its “just the way things are” but I don’t. Its not right. Anger rises up in me- this is injustice. It feels like I am betraying them because I have such good things. And while I know I need to take care of myself so I can take care of them, it still feels wrong not to give more of myself (even if there is not much else I can give). My heart breaks again and again, every day. This must be how God feels- its miserable but its also right. If I didn’t feel this pain, I wouldn’t be suitable for this job anymore. Being shocked at the cruelties I see is part of what I do. It keeps my heart close to these boys, keeps my mind focused on what I am doing.
Today, I had an intense conversation with one of my boys. He was telling me about some really terrible things that happened to him, and how sad and hurt he was by them. He didn’t understand why these bad things happened to him, and he was angry. And watching him struggle with pain far greater than I have ever known, I felt my own heart tearing. It was like emotional pain was overflowing from his heart, and as I watched his tears, I felt my own start to fall. He looked up at me, and said “Auntie Kate, you shouldn’t cry for me. This is my pain, so don’t cry”. But he was wrong, and I told him so. I told him that he was my family, and the bible says we share things with those we love. We share joy and sorrows, and so his pain is my pain. And while I cannot fix or change anything, I can at least share his sorrows and help him carry this grief.
Some days I think I will shatter, but God is my glue. He holds me together, so I can break anew each day. While that seems backwards, I think its exactly how things are supposed to be. I see people every day who stopped caring. Their hearts became hard and jaded. They tricked themselves into thinking that the problems of the hurting are for someone else to deal with.
So I am grateful for my heartbreak, because it means I have a heart.
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