Conversations

Edward with his cars.

Edward and I are sitting in the classroom, waiting for English Class to begin.

Me: Edward, do you like it here at Puerto Alegria?

Edward:  Sort of.  Not really.

Me: Why not?

Edward:  Triste.

Me:  Why are you sad?

Edward: I miss my Mom.  (I know that Edward has come from living on the streets, so it’s probable that he hasn’t seen his Mom in a while, anyway)

Me: Which is sadder, living and sleeping on the streets or living here and being triste?

Edward: Living on the streets, I guess.

Me: I’m glad you’re here.

Luis.

Luis and I are sitting in the comedor, which is kind of like a mess hall.

Luis: Open this for me.

Me: Luis, say please when you want someone to do something for you.

Luis: Please, Kate, open this for me.

I begin to open it for him.  Now, since he knows he’s gotten what he wants, he says the following.

Luis:  Please, Supi, open this for me. (Supi means fart.  He called me a fart.)

Brian and Ronald.

Ronald, Brian and I are sitting in the gazebo.

Ronald: Kate, what does want mean.

I explain to him that we have two words: want and love, while they just have one word, querer, which can mean either one.

Me: Where did you hear that word?

Ronald: (singing a song that must be Shakira or something)  I know you love me, I know you want me.

I’m thinking, ‘Great, now they think that Shakira (or whoever sings that song) knows about love, and that wanting someone and loving them are the same thing.’  How do I explain this to boys who have had so few examples of real love between a man and a woman.

Me: Well, loving someone, really loving them, is loving them with the love of Christ.  It means that you care about someone enough to put their needs before you own.  And wanting someone, well, is not as pure of a love.  (This is the only way I can think of to explain)

Ronald and Brian:  Oh.

Answered Prayer

Remember this post?  The issue of identity in the things other than Christ has always been a struggle for me.  It manifests itself pretty strongly in my involvement in the boys’ home in Puerto Alegria, Peru.  I tend to throw myself so completely into it, thus creating an identity that is way too closely intertwined with them.  I forget that I am first a child of God, THEN I am a Spanish-speaker/teacher.

This can get sticky when things down there don’t work out as you planned.  For example, you get there and a child you have devoted yourself to praying for and loving is gone.  Or perhaps you get there and aren’t received like you thought you’d be.  You find yourself feeling desolate and confused.  What’s my purpose now?  There are a million different reasons why putting your identity in earthly things just doesn’t work.

Before this past trip, I prayed.  A lot.  I prayed that I would be able to love them with the love of Christ, not with my own, self-seeking, satisfaction-needing love.  I prayed that whatever happened when I got there, I’d be able to love them because of and through Christ, not my own efforts.  God really answered my prayers.  This trip was different.  I wasn’t anxious of how I would be received.  I didn’t feel a need to win anyone’s approval.  I was just there to love.  That’s it.  Ahhh.  Sweet relief.  Praise be to God.

“The saint who is intimate with Jesus will never leave impressions of himself, but only the impression that Jesus is having unhindered way, because the last abyss of his nature has been satisfied by Jesus.”  –Oswald Chambers

Here’s a few pictures I took with my SWEET new camera!

Junior blowing bubbles.

Nixon, who let me pat him on the back for the first time. Some of these kids have been so hurt by the adults in their lives that they won't allow themselves to feel or receive love. Praise God for changes in his heart.

Oriel. He has grown so much! Check out the post linked to above to see an older picture of him.

Edward is new to Puerto Alegria. 9 years old and has come from a life on the streets. My prayer is that he STAY. I know that those who arrive from the streets often go back to the "freedom" of the streets. Pray with me that he stays where he can be loved and fed.

Luis, now five years old.

Ronald, who has been close to my heart since my very first trip.

Hand-mades

Sara drew my Mom's name, so she made coasters with the grandkids' pictures on them. So cool!

This year, we all drew a name and had to make something for whomever we drew.  This was so special for me!  I love the idea because you have to really be thoughtful about it.  You can’t just run to the store and pick up something at the last minute.  You may create something at the last minute, but whatever you’re creating has required thought and effort.  Here’s a few pictures of some of the hand-made items.

Dad made wall hooks for Chris.

Liz modeling her new feather headband and earrings, made by yours truly.

Emily got together different Scriptural topics and filed them in a beautiful metal file box! It meant so much to me.

Still left from the Art Show

I have a few pieces left from the art show and really need to sell them!  If you want to see them, go here.

Identity Crisis Continues

Will I ever stop putting my identity in things other than Christ?  It feels like a battle that cannot be won.  (Remember this post? And this one?)

We’ve been studying the story of Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42) this week.  In reading over it last week before church, I could see myself so clearly in Martha.  Joel’s sermon only confirmed it. You see, Mary was content to sit at Jesus’ feet.  She was content to SIT and listen to his Words. Martha was not satisfied to just be in Jesus’ presence.  She needed to be DOING something for him.  But, I don’t think it was for HIM.  I think it was for HER.  I know because she is ME.

This battle for me lies mostly in my ministry to the boys at the home in Puerto Alegria.  I so desire for my time with them to be an overflow of love for Jesus.  That I would be so fixed on Him, that it would just spill out onto them.  But, frankly, it just isn’t.  My time with them is mostly an overflow of love for THEM.  This seems good, at first.  But then, it rears it’s ugly head when they don’t love ME back.  When they don’t respond to ME in the way that I want them to.  Then the awful realization dawns on me: I have made THEM my object of worship, not HIM.  It’s not for Christ and His glory at all, it’s for me and my own satisfaction.  If it were unto the Lord, and not unto THEM, then it wouldn’t matter so much to me how they respond to me, because it is unto HIM.

Then, perhaps, I wouldn’t come back from Peru so completely depressed and down and out because I feel I have left my purpose right there on the banks of the Itaya River.  You see, my purpose is Christ.  My ministry is knowing and loving Christ, wherever I am.

“Wretched [woman] that I am, who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Rom 7:24)

Oriel, who "loves" me and always responds in the way I "need" him to.

 

Hox, who can be so tender, (like in this picture) yet at times can utter words that, if you don't have the right perspective, will cut you down to the core. (PS--He's also the "cameraman" in the last video post)

Memories

Every afternoon, friends from the surrounding villages come to the home at Puerto Alegria for an afternoon soccer game.  Here’s how it goes:  bathe in the river, put on some clean clothes, slap on some bug spray, get the camp chair and head out to the soccer fields to watch the game.  You’ll likely enjoy good conversation, a few kids hanging on your back and maybe a passerby with some Coca Cola.  Some of my favorite memories.  Enjoy.

PS–What you are about to watch is a conversation involving the English/Bible lesson for that day, which was the story of Abraham and Isaac.  The boys understand much more English than they let on.

Luis again

This is an old video, but in light of our upcoming trip, I thought it deserved reposting. Enjoy!

9:11 pm, Thursday night

I wasn’t there when this picture was taken.  But I imagine it to be at about 5:00 am, while all the other street boys are asleep.  On the floor, on benches, on each other.  That’s what usually happens on Friday nights when Gene goes into Iquitos (from the boys’ home in Puerto Alegria).  They play soccer, have a meal, play more soccer, watch movies, more soccer, and then fall asleep.  I imagine Angelo waking up for just a few more dribbles of his soccer ball, just a few more hours awake before he goes out onto the street, his home.

God has placed Angelo on my heart.  Just click on Angelo on my sidebar and you’ll see several posts where he shows up.  At first, I didn’t know his name, but his face was pressed into my heart. Then I learned his name, and now my heart is beginning to wrap itself around his little heart, even from this far away.  I wonder what he’s doing at this moment, 9:11 pm on a Thursday night.  Is he safe?  Is he sleeping, playing soccer on the street somewhere, begging for money, stealing money?  What is he doing now?  I can only pray that God will protect him and, most of all, bring him to an understanding of the sufficiency of Christ.

Angelo. 13 years old. Loves soccer.

Smelly Porch

Something really fun about having a wordpress blog: “Top Searches”.  This is where you get to see what people have been typing into your search box.  And one of the top searches was, you guessed it, “smelly porch”.  What?  Whoever you are, fess up.

Loneliness

Me and Rene

Rene is beautiful.  Big brown eyes with long eyelashes.  10 years old and can dance like you wouldn’t believe.  He and his brother, Marcelo, came to Puerto Alegria after a neighbor kept finding them unsupervised in their house for weeks at a time.

It was close to the time that we (the team) would be leaving Puerto Alegria.  I was giving my last Bible lesson and the boys were absolutely horrible.  Teaching former street children is hard enough in itself.  But this day was especially hard.  And Rene’s behavior was one of the worst.  By the end of the class, he was laying on the floor in defiance.

I pulled him up off of the floor.  He wouldn’t look at me, his body limp in defiance and defeat.  I sat him next to me on the bench and put my arms around him.  I told him that I loved him and that there was nothing that he could do that would make me not love him.  I told him that God loved him in the same way, but so much more.  Still not looking at me, he put his arms around me and laid in my lap.  He stayed there for a good while.

These boys experience loneliness that is beyond what I or most people can imagine.  As Willy (the in-house disciplinarian) shared with me, the nights are the worst.  They go to sleep with no one to tuck them in.  No one to remind them to brush their teeth.  No one to make sure they have clean pajamas and a teddy bear.  They go to sleep lonely and wake up lonely.  There are days that the loneliness turns into an anger that they carry with them throughout the day.  I think this day was one of those, perhaps exasperated by the knowledge that we were soon to be leaving.

When I try to imagine the loneliness they feel, I become thankful for my own times of loneliness.  Not only does it give me a bit of an understanding of what they feel, but it is also a vehicle for God to communicate his ever-present message: I am enough for you, Kate.  And the more I learn this, the more I am able to believe it for them.  I am not there to wrap my arms around them and to tell them that they are loved.  But God is.  And He is enough.

PS–He wears that thing on his head because he INSISTED that I give him a haircut instead of the worker there who usually cuts their hair.  He regretted it for the rest of the week.