Resurrection At Work

08 Mar Resurrection At Work

Meet Adam.

That’s not really his name, but for the sake of this blog and his privacy, it is today.  I met Adam about 10 months ago when he first arrived at the children’s home Senderos de Amor.   Adam was attempting to cross the U.S. – Mexico border for the 2^nd time in his life when he was caught by immigration and deported back to Honduras, where he is originally from.  He was 19 at the time, which is a rough age for young guys who have no roots.  Adulthood in Honduras is a blurry line between ages 18 and 21.  He was brought to Senderos de Amor because he had nowhere else to go and there was no one to claim him.  His only goal was to make enough money to get him to the border a 3^rd time.

I’ve rarely seen Adam without a smile.  There is brightness in his eyes and a song in his heart.  I thought at first this was a fleeting joy.  A temporary happy brought on by stability, food, a place to lay his head, and futbol.  Adam and I have had many conversations about this joy.  He tells me, ‘One day I will be great.  One day I will have a job and a family and a home.  One day I won’t worry. And, I’m already living like I have it.’  Wow.  Just wow, Adam.

I’ve met many boys in a similar season with different stories.  Whether they are finishing school, getting their first job, or wanting to make another run for the border, the very next step they take is an important one.  Often their decisions are fueled by a desire to meet immediate needs.  Most of these young guys have grown up in environments that do not foster the importance of education.  My conversations with Adam have focused on this very next step.  I am always pushing education as the primary way to create change.  He is always pushing work.  He wants to work, to make money, to get to the U.S.. His obstacles for pursing education are rooted in shame.  He has a 1^st grade education and he’s 20 years old.

We sat in the dirt one hot afternoon and talked about long-term goals.  I asked him what he wants out of life.  He smiled and said, ‘to be free’.   We talked about what his life has been like.  He was surrendered at a very young age, spent way too much time on the street, and watched kids meet tragedy on their way to the border.  We talked about breaking the cycle of poverty he came from to make a better life for himself and one day.  We talked about how a temporary job will get you temporary money.  But a certificate of training or education will pave the way for a career, a stable environment for a family, and roots.

Options.  Often, these kiddos are not given options, opportunities to rise above and make some serious differences in their lives.  It breaks my heart when I hear them talk about the only option that seems realistic – and that is to settle for a life you don’t want.  The temptation to stay and settle, or even run and settle is so great many young guys have lost their lives over it.

I left Honduras for 2 months in December.  Before I left, I checked in with Adam.  The children’s home had told him since he wasn’t in school and had no job he had to leave the home by Jan 31^st.  He was scared.  I was scared for him.   We had one last conversation about what it would look like to go back to school and have that be his priority now.  He was adamantly against anything that slowed down his move to the border.  For 2 months, I had hoped and prayed that he would consider our conversations about going back to school and wanting more for himself.  I prayed that he would choose the road far less traveled.  The long and twisting road that doesn’t look so gratifying.  The boring road, offering less adventure but more stability. Last week I went back to the children’s home.  Immediately, Adam came up and greeted me with that big and beautiful smile and said, ‘can you help me with my homework?’

I love watching God move in and among these boys.  Boys, who don’t have a solid foundation of faith.  Boys, who have experienced more tragedy and endured more trauma than my heart can imagine.  Boys, who have been told ‘no’ over and over again.  Boys, who don’t care to dream.  Boys, who are afraid to ask for another option than the one handed to them.  In them, I see hope.  I feel resurrection at work.  I can hear indomitable, thousand foot deep joy.  And I must say, it’s contagious.