Sweatshirts and Sons

Hello All,
I know that it is a rarity for me to update this quickly (perhaps, I should change my habits), but I wanted to share a special recent story.

I went on a retreat last weekend with Mami Nelly and some other strong Christian women to a place on the way to Yuscaran that's kind of in the middle of nowhere amongst an entire little community of people who are all Christians. The innocence of that place was precious and was great for restoring all of us who went. While I was there, one of the things--though simple--that God laid on my heart was "Don't hold back." When I first moved here, I had a huge zeal fueled by the impact of missionaries like Heidi Baker, documentaries like Furious Love, and a recent road trip meeting all kinds of new people, but I lacked experience and wisdom. Now, I have a bit more experience. (I won't venture to say I necessarily have a whole lot of wisdom, but hopefully more than when I first moved here.) Truthfully, though, all of this time of developing patience and endurance and allowing God to humble me had taken quite a bit of the gleaming polish of my previous zeal. I haven't been as childlike or as full of wonder or as emotionally fearless or as open as I was when I first moved here. But, God has been working in my heart. It started with reading Kisses from Katie and hearing of how she gives of herself, a heart's desire that had faded with betrayals, exhaustion, and loss of hope in various contexts. And, the next boost came from that simple word from God, "Don't hold back." Truly, I like it when God keeps things simple for me--I tend to grab hold of simple words and run with them.

So, on Wednesday, I went to 21 de Octubre, the boys' center, as I usually do. While it's nothing compared to West Virginia and various places in the States, the cold is starting to settle in here. We have open houses and buildings and don't have heat, so once you get cold--or worse, wet then cold--it's hard to get warm again. Right now, I'm wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jacket, and when I go to sleep, I sleep with sweat pants, a hoodie, fuzzy socks, and four relatively thin blankets. I share this just to give you an idea of the cold (from one who tends to be easily cold). Thus, on Wednesday morning, during devotional, I was watching my children as they were suffering in the cold. Very few of them had jackets or sweatshirts (or socks or shoes), so many of them had their arms and legs tucked into their T-shirts or were rubbing their hands together trying to get warm. In the spirit of not holding back, I have found that in these days, these boys become more like my own children everyday.

Thus, as I watched my sons shivering with cold, as an adoptive mother (even if it's only within my own heart or in the eyes of God), what else could possibly pass through my mind but to provide warmth for my children? So, I began to talk to God all morning long, "Daddy, my sons are cold. They need sweatshirts. How am I going to give all 40 or so of them sweatshirts?" I began to think of how I was going to be able to find that many sweatshirts at a decent, affordable price. Because I don't have my own transportation and because I'm still relatively new to this city, I often have no concept of where the best place is to buy things cheap. Because of these two factors, I often end up spending more money for things just because I don't have a way to transport things (other than on a crowded bus) or because I don't know where else to go. So, I began to imagine how difficult it was going to be to somehow find 40 sweatshirts at a decent price and also transport all 40 of those sweatshirts by myself with no car. But, even with these uncertainties, with each passing moment of my boys asking for my own jacket, I became more determined not to hold back and to find a way to clothe my children. At lunch, I called Raúl to ask him if he knew of a place where I could find that many sweatshirts because, being a businessman, he often has various people he can bargain with to get good deals on all kinds of stuff. But, on this occasion, he was more or less at a loss and insinuated that I should look in Kennedy but that I'd have to go to various places to find that many.

Hermano Nati and Hermana Martha, the ones who have the ministry in Yuscaran, have businesses in the Kennedy (not selling clothes though), so I called Hermano Nati to ask if he knew where I could go in the Kennedy. Instead, he told me that they had been thinking of buying a bale of sweaters for the children in Yuscaran as the weather is getting colder, so we could go to the commercial warehouse where they buy them. He mentioned that in the past, they'd bought a bale of used sweatshirts from the US for 1600 lempiras or about $85. He also mentioned that whatever wasn't needed for my boys could be given to the children in Yuscaran since a bale of clothes carries a lot. I agreed. Then, much to my surprise, he said that he had the car at the business, and if I wanted, we could go right that minute to buy the sweatshirts. Absolutely! He came to pick me up, and I was astounded to see that the warehouse was only a few blocks from the boys' center.

That morning, I had remembered that I was carrying around more money in my purse than I normally do, so I had meant to take some out but forgot. Thus, when I started counting my cash, I saw that I had 800 lempiras. Knowing that wouldn't be enough for a 1600 lemp bale, I asked Hermano Nati if they took a debit card. He thought so. When we arrived and started asking the lady, though, she said they no longer had the 1600 lemp bale and that they didn't take a debit card. I had a flash of discouragement and reminded God that my sons were cold. Immediately, the sales lady said, "But we do have a smaller bale of sweatshirts that are very warm for 800 lempiras." I got a huge smile on my face knowing that this was a God thing--it cost exactly how much I had. I bought the bale, and the lady also gave us an additional bag of ladies' sweaters that someone had left after going through their own purchased bale (these will likely go to Yuscaran). We opened the bale right in the parking lot, and I started going through looking for the right sizes and found what I needed for my sons. I was ecstatic as we carried the bag into the center.

In the morning, the boys had been asking me for my jacket despite the fact that they know my rule--if I can't give to everyone, I won't give to only one. Being a female in the middle of lots of adolescent males, I'm well aware of how dangerous it would be to appear to have favorites. But, as they were begging me, and as I was explaining my rule, I also began to ask just how many didn't have sweatshirts--"Oh, a bunch! Almost all of us. Are you going to give us sweatshirts?" "Well, I can't give to just one if I can't give to everyone. So, I'm thinking of how I can give to everyone." The looks on their faces when they saw that giant bag was priceless. God is so good. He opened my eyes to a need that my children had around 9 AM and reminded me not to hold back, and by His grace and His provision, at 2 PM, that need was completely and perfectly fulfilled.

The workers from Orphan Helpers gave out the sweatshirts that same day, but this morning was the first day that I got to walk in and see my sons so nice and warm. My heart just swelled with joy especially during praise and worship. These boys are often painted as the hopeless cases. I think one of the things that so draws me to 21 is that it's kind of the forgotten center in the sense that foreign teams don't usually go there, and unlike other places, like the girls' juvenile detention center, the boys don't receive educational opportunities. These boys are typically the ones that no permanent center wants to deal with because they're known for escaping, having drug problems, etc. But, when my children--thieves, drug addicts, gang members, and orphans--start to worship God, they lift their hands and close their eyes and sing with an innocence that just radiates from their respectful hearts and beautiful faces. I see Jesus in their broken worship.

I can say quite honestly that all of the boys I've talked to are in 21 because of something that is rooted in their home lives. It may be that they're there because of drugs or running around on the streets, but the reason that so many of them resort to drugs and street life is that there is no one at home giving them love or attention. I would venture to say that the greatest problem in this country (and many others) is an orphan spirit. My sons carry an orphan spirit that breaks my heart everyday, and I so desperately long for the Holy Spirit to move in their lives and heal their hearts. But, this morning, as I looked out over my boys in their sweatshirts, I heard God say, "If you will surrender your children to Me, I will do more than clothe them." And this simple promise made me cry.

I am a fiercely loyal person with a heart that beats loudest with a rhythm of adoption. While I am normally a quiet, flexible, pacifistic person, when I love someone, I can be a force to be reckoned with. My difficulty is often in reminding myself that my force of love is something that the powers of darkness should reckon with--not the flesh and blood before me. Often, it is so difficult for me to see the potential and value that my loved ones have and yet feel so helpless because I can't force them to see themselves as I see them or as God sees them. They have to make their own decisions, and they have to value themselves enough to make their needed life changes. I can't do that for them, but I can trust that they are fully capable of receiving and hearing from the Holy Spirit. I can trust that if I surrender my children (even the ones I don't know yet) to God, He IS going to do more than clothe them. I believe He's going to heal them, restore them, and bless them in ways that even this passionately adoptive mother could never do.

This is my current lesson. All during the retreat, I was with women who are struggling with their children, and as they were receiving lessons of surrendering their children to God, I was too--even though I don't yet have children of my own. Sometimes, I get so protective of the things that God has promised me that I forget that He's the One that has promised me these things--these children--anyway. I was further reminded on Sunday when I went to Yuscaran. We had our first mother voluntarily want to dedicate her son to God within our congregation. Hermano Tomás was sharing a testimony of what it truly means to dedicate one's children to God.

He has several daughters, but his youngest child is a son. His wife waited to have a son for a long time, and when he was born, he filled a void that had existed in her heart--a longing, an ache. But, during his first year of life, the son was often sick and in the hospital. Hermano Tomás' wife was struggling with God because she didn't want to lose her son, but Hermano Tomás reminded her that she had dedicated her son to God. She thought she had, but really, in her heart, she hadn't. Finally, when she told God that if He desired to take her son that she surrendered him to Him but that her heart's desire was for God to loan this child to her, her son began to get well.

Hearing this story was God speaking to me and asking me to surrender my children--the children I don't even have yet, who I haven't met, who I haven't held, who I haven't seen. I know that God has promised me many children, and sometimes, my heart aches for my children. But, I have to surrender them to Him. So while it brings me so much joy to hear my boys in 21 say in their Spanish-accented English, "Sarah! My mother! My name is Juan Crickenberger," I feel the Holy Spirit stroking my heart and reminding me that if I'll keep my children surrendered to Him, He will do more than clothe them.  

Lots of love,
Sarah