Painful Love

My beautiful family
Back row: Bladimir, me, Erick, Jessica (Erick's mom), Stefany (Josuan's sister)
Front row: Josuan, Marvin, Cristhian, Cristofer (Erick's brother), Jesús




Hello All,


Please excuse my absence last month. I have been so busy and am so exhausted! To be honest with you, it’s Sunday which means I spent the whole day in full throttle mom mode with my six sons in Teen Challenge, and although my body just wants to sleep, my spirit is restless. This is has been an unbelievably stretching month, and what is currently sustaining me is the hope for rest when I go to the States in a few weeks.


In this month, my finances have been stretched with unexpected car issues and sick kids and those random life problems. My kids have pushed my limits. And, in the middle of trying to divide my time among six kids and deal with their individual problems, I have struggled with the feeling that I am not enough and will never be enough. I have spent days where all I have wanted to do is hide, afraid to answer the phone or open my door because I’ve felt so exhausted, so empty after giving so much of myself, and just spent in every sense of the word.


But in the middle of such intense exhaustion which has pretty much been the theme of this year, I have found such unspeakable gratitude and joy. I look at how far my family has come, and we are absolutely nothing short of a miracle. But, we’re not out of the dark, believe me, and today has been one of those days when I’ve been reminded that I can’t stop fighting. It’s easy when you’re so tired to fall into a routine just to survive, but my family is on the line every single day. So, I cannot be afforded that luxury, and neither can they.


I spend Sunday mornings during the church service just crying with gratitude watching my sons seeking God and worshipping Him. Each one of my children is a miracle, and I pray I never forget that. On the contrary, I marvel that God picked me to be their mami because I’m nothing special. We’ve only gotten to where we’ve reached because of His grace and listening to His voice. It’s really just that simple. I’ve been listening to Christmas music since July because it’s been my way of giving myself a goal and telling myself over and over, “We’re going to make it to Christmas. We’re going to last as a family that long.” Of course, I want us to make it past Christmas, but it has helped me to envision what our first Christmas together as a family will be like. For Josuan, it’ll be the second time he ever receives a Christmas gift (the first time was when I gave all of the boys in 21 de Octubre a gift last Christmas) and the first Christmas since he was seven-years-old that he won’t be doing drugs or drinking. I think quite possibly for all of my children, it’ll be the first time they spend Christmas secure as part of a loving family. It will be a milestone for us to say the least, and here we are already in November and still standing.





Erick




The beauty of our family—something that God emphasized to me this morning—is that we’re a manifestation of redemption and restoration in so many aspects. This morning, we were giving Mami Jessica, Erick’s mom, Happy Birthday hugs. And, with tears in her eyes, she told me and Josuan, “I lost one son [he was murdered last year], but God has given me five more [talking about my sons who love her as part of our family].” Erick lost his brother, but God has also granted him five new brothers. A few weeks ago, Bladimir cried as he told me how much he misses Kevin (Alvin and Nelly’s other foster son who was kidnapped and never heard from again) because although they weren’t blood brothers, they did everything together. Kevin played with him, joked with him, and protected him like a big brother. It was the loss of Kevin’s protection that truly broke Bladimir. But, that same day, something redemptive happened. Bladimir got in trouble with a leader for breaking a rule he hadn’t known about and worried he’d be punished, and with no prompting from me, my two right-hand men—Josuan and Marvin, who act as the oldest, big brothers in our family—immediately went to the leader to defend their little brother. They returned confidently telling Bladi not to worry about it because they had taken care of it, and I had the joy of pointing out, “The loss of Kevin is very difficult, but God hasn’t forgotten you. Now, He’s given you two big brothers to fight on your behalf.” The fact that Marvin and Josuan are best friends is an absolute miracle (that I’d been prophesying for months) because they come from rival gangs and have terrible jealousy/sibling rivalry issues. One has the tattoo from one gang, and the other has the tattoo from the other gang. And, yet, no matter how much they snap at each other or have their little tiffs, their frustration doesn’t last even a day before one caves, and love wins. Marvin’s relationship with Josuan is redemptive for him because Marvin’s best friend in his former life on the streets was his older brother. His older brother was the influence who brought him into drugs and so much harm. When Marvin made the decision to change, he lost his best friend because his brother did not decide to change. But, God has given him a new best friend in a new brother. Our entire family is a redemption for Jesus because he essentially grew up without close family nearly his entire life. And, each one of my children is a redemption for me because there is a piece of myself in each one’s struggle. So many things that I did or went through that I regretted later or that I had trouble forgiving myself for or that I didn’t understand why I had to suffer, God has completely used to rescue them, to speak into their lives, to protect them even if only from themselves, and to show me that God is indeed true to His word that:
“we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28).





Jesús and I





 With that said, while this motherhood is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been a part of, it’s also undoubtedly the most difficult. The deeper I enter my children’s lives, the more I love them. The more that I love them, the more they are mine. The more they are mine, the more their pain is my pain. Josuan and I have had a rule since the very beginning that being family means “your problems are my problems,” and he takes that rule very seriously, being quick to pick up on my struggles too instead of just dumping his own on me. And, I have been finding in this past month that as my sons are healing, it’s becoming much easier for them to forgive those who have harmed them. But, with each new level of depth of my love for them, it’s very very difficult for me—in many cases, more difficult for me than them because I so adamantly want to protect them.


This past week, I found the very human mom in me fighting with the Christ in me. It’s my desire to be merciful and loving, compassionate and humble like Jesus, and outwardly, it is Christ in me that I want to say wins more often than not. But, before I make that decision of action to do the right thing, there is often a battle inside with my emotions. This week was so difficult in this sense because although I always maintain that I want to be a refuge for my kids without ever creating a sense of competition with their biological families or robbing them of their biological families, I am still human. I still have feelings. And, when I give so much of myself, there is still that part inside of me that is fearful of loss and screams at me to shut the door of my heart when I feel ripe for an emotional beating. With all of my kids, I have stepped in when no one else—including their own biological families—wanted to. I have fought with time, energy, prayers, tears, discipline, and more than anything, relentless love. I hurt when they hurt and hurt when I hear their stories of past hurt because they’re mine, and I love them. Sometimes, I think the residual hurt that it leaves on my heart is worse than the hurt they’ve experienced (well, after they’ve been healed of a particular hurt).


The week started with taking Jesús to Forensics to get an examination to help verify his age since we don’t know his age or his birthday since he has never had a birth certificate. We’re sitting in the middle of the interview in this blank room with fluorescent lights where my son is very confused (he’s quite innocent and childlike in many ways) about what is going on, and they’re checking every physical aspect that could possibly give a clue to his age. (The ladies conducting all of this weren’t too gentle or compassionate about all of this either.) The previous night, Jesús had a breakdown that surprised me. It’s rare that Jesús cries. But, he admitted to me that he’s afraid that I won’t return to Honduras and that he’ll lose the only family that he has. He told me that he wants to find some way to get in contact with his extended family and the neighbor who raised him—not because he wants to live with them but because he wants to ask for their forgiveness. Marvin, Josuan, Erick, and Bladimir have all had the opportunity to ask for forgiveness from those they’ve harmed with their life choices, but Jesús hasn’t had this basic part in the process. He struggles with feeling like his family (who didn’t raise him) and this neighbor will feel like he is ungrateful since he has never returned to thank them. He is now adamant that he never wants to leave me or Marvin or Josuan. We are his family, but he wants closure. So, what can I do? I am not his biological family. I am not enough. So I hold him in my arms and ensure him that I will return until the moment of hurt passes. Thus, in the middle of watching these ladies look down their noses at my son because he doesn’t know his age, used to be a gang member, and has massive scars from the attack, my heart began to ache profoundly. I began to think about each one of my children, and ask myself, “Haven’t they suffered enough? What haven’t they gone through?” And, in my honest communion with God, I couldn’t help but ask, “When do they get to stop suffering?”




I love that smile...



Just hours later, I faced another test of love. One of my son’s mothers, who didn’t care when he was in his greatest hour of need and has never fought for him, started proudly (perhaps territorially?) identifying him as her son for the first time in his life. This is a good thing. This has been a goal and has been a desire of his heart for his whole life. Thus, the Christ in me is so pleased with this miracle that God has done, but the very human mom in me who had to watch his devastation at her indifference to him and how easily she could forget him balks at accepting this as a victory. The very human mom in me wants to protectively hold my baby in my arms and shield him from any further hurt from her fickle “love” that depends on his actions or state of being. The very human mom in me wants to yell, “Where were you when he needed you? Now that he’s healing and changing and isn’t a drug addict any more, you love him? Only now that I’ve fought for him and love him like my own, he’s yours?” It’s ugly to feel that way. And, in recognizing my fear of losing him and of getting hurt, I had to get on my knees and just cry out the hurt to God, begging Him to give me the strength to forgive her and extend mercy as my son has already done.



Only days later, I was stretched once again when I saw a person who was an abuser of one of my children. It was the first time I saw this person since being made fully aware that he had been an abuser (and potentially dangerous to me and my child). From far away, I was fine. I was alert. I was vigilant. But I was not fearful. I didn’t feel anger or hatred or resentment. But, when the person had the nerve to ask people who were with me to ask me how my child was, I reacted in a way that I never expected in my life. In a split second, it was like someone had lit a fire of blazing pain inside of me. It was more excruciating than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. I started to open my mouth because I wanted to snap with something hateful, with something protective, with something that would make this person know that it would be a grave mistake to come near my child ever again. But, with my mouth open and tears quickly burning my eyes, nothing came out of my mouth. I could only shake my head because I couldn’t breathe. Instead, I began to tremble and buried my head in my hands and began to cry violently, sobbing and scaring everyone within an earshot because normally I’m quiet, little Sarah. Thankfully, Pastora Mirna and Mami Nelly, who were with me, took care of the situation perfectly, and I left. I don’t know what it was that broke within me because, while crying and even afterwards, I didn’t feel hatred or anger. All I felt was an unspeakable, burning pain that still tinges my soul and turns my stomach to knots. I ache for my baby and for everything that my child went through. I never knew I could love someone as much as I love my son. But, I also ache for the soul of his abuser. The nature of abuse is cyclical. Where there is an abuser, there is a root of suffering. There is a darkness, an evil that took hold and thrust its roots deep into soul, psyche, and physical feeling. So, of course, I had to recognize that I have to follow my son’s example of forgiveness, difficult though it may be. There is immeasurable power in forgiveness. We see this all the time in my family. And, of course, when my child found out about all of this, it was no big deal because he’s not afraid any more, and he’s forgiven. But, if I would’ve had my choice today, I never would have let him out of my arms, out of my sight, or out of my protection.







Josuan stuck to me like glue as always.



The deeper I get into adopted motherhood, the more difficult it is for me to deal with the pain of knowing that I can’t rewrite their pasts. I can’t go back and be the mom they never had then. I can’t be the mom who protected them from all harm because much harm has already been done. I will never get to hold them like my babies although I love them like I gave birth to them. I will never get to be at their kindergarten graduations, kiss their boo-boos, or know what their first words were. And in addition to the weight of this loss of time and childhood with them, in the midst of loving them so much, I also have to be humble and merciful enough to share them with their biological families who weren’t the families they needed, who hurt them, and who often didn’t care enough to do anything for them before. I have to be fiercely protective to keep them from falling into the abuse of their pasts but open-handed enough to let them go and restore their relationships with their blood families. I have to be completely vulnerable and give all of my love in order to win them over and heal their orphan spirits, but I have to be unselfish enough to never expect anything in return, never create a sense of competition between me and their real families, and never let my love depend on their actions. I have to gentle enough to let them peel back each layer of hurt and darkness without fear of rejection and firm enough to not tolerate manipulation. This is the love of Jesus, and it is so painful, so difficult, and so costly. But, it’s also the only answer for my children. It’s the only thing that has kept Josuan from doing drugs again, Jesús from escaping completely, and Marvin from going to the States illegally. It’s the only thing that has rescued them, the only thing that has healed them, and the only thing that has given them the power to forgive. So, how can I stop now just because it hurts or I’m afraid when I know what’s at stake here?





Bladimir visiting with his sisters, Amy and Mayra.



This past week, I took Stefany (Josuan’s sister) with Mami Nelly and Pastora Mirna to a special Christian women’s meeting. Although we both felt out of place because it was in a fancy hotel, it was undoubtedly a God thing that we went. It was put on by the same church that held the 21 Days of Worship in April—when and where I first heard God tell me that I needed to take control of this family that He was giving me and that if I didn’t fight for my kids, no one would. I was so scared of being a single mom and was so overwhelmed just by Josuan. But I obeyed. And, as they played the song in worship that I had sung over my children’s lives every day at that time, “Break Every Chain,” God began to show me just how far we’ve come. It’s unbelievable. We haven’t even been a family for a year, but we have already overcome so much. This time last year, Josuan and Jesús were in 21, and I didn’t even really know Marvin. Six months ago, Josuan was just entering Teen Challenge before the rod in his leg moved up to his back. Jesús didn’t really believe that I loved him, and Marvin couldn’t stand Josuan. Now, here we are with two more members in our family and moving forward together. I don’t know how I’ve made it as a 24-year-old single mom with six, teenage, former drug addict sons, but the victory belongs to the Head of our household—our Heavenly Father.




Marvin and Mayra




The message at this service was about generational curses, and it was unbelievably powerful. The speaker mentioned how we often embrace our difficulties that seem to run in the family as our lot in life or something normal. But, she made the case that these were actually generational, spiritual, demonic curses, and that spiritually, we have the power as God’s children to rebuke them and break those chains. Generational curses are not something that I remember talking about or learning about when I lived in the States, so I have no idea how you, my audience, feels about them. But, I can tell you that just with Josuan’s family, I have enough evidence to completely believe that they not only exist but that they run rampant in ruining lives if someone doesn’t break the chain. Josuan’s great grandfather was an alcoholic. Josuan’s grandfather is an alcoholic, and Josuan’s father is a drug addict and alcoholic. And both Josuan and Stefany at their ripe ages of 16 and 13 have been pulled in that direction with the results being full-blown drug addiction and living on the streets in Josuan’s case. And, in listening to this message, I began analyzing the family stories that I know of my kids (in some cases, it’s very limited). Cristhian’s uncle is/was a thief, and Cristhian has been in and out of juvenile delinquent centers for robbing. Who knows who else in his family is/was a thief? Erick’s father and brother were murdered at young ages. Jesús’ father, mother, and brother all died at a young age, and he was almost murdered! Don’t even get me started on the abuse that runs in all of my kids’ families. It’s unbelievable. But, as they prayed and worshipped after the service, I felt the power of the presence of God like I’ve never experienced in my life. And, in my prayers and worship, I just pled the blood of Jesus over my sons and my family and stood in the gap to break those generational curses. Sometimes, I get so overwhelmed by what we’re up against, but I look at how far we come, and I take hold of the truth that:
“Greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world.” (1 John 4:4).



Mayra and Bladimir celebrating Bladimir's birthday



Just as a side note, 21 de Octubre wants to give me another son. (Josuan has practically tried to forbid me from going to 21 because he knows it usually results in a new brother, and he knows I’m so exhausted.) I already have a reputation (that I like)—the mother of the lost causes, the hopeless cases, and those who no one else wants. And, I’m beginning to see how the testimony of my children is causing people in this government-run facility to recognize that only the power and love of God changes people. They seek me out to take on the children who are the most damaged because they’re learning the power of the One. This particular young man being pushed in my direction is one I’ve prayed for and wanted for a long time. But, he’s also not a drug addict which means the pastor may not accept him in Teen Challenge. Please just be praying for God’s will in the situation. If the pastor will accept him in Teen Challenge, I’ll adopt him. If not, I don’t have another option to help him right now.



Please also be praying for all of my children. Erick and Jesús are nine months into their year in Teen Challenge. I need an answer for what to do about communicating with Jesús’ family with safety issues and no phone number. Josuan is half a year in, and he is struggling. He’s doing his absolute best to fight and continue forward, but he’s being hit by every kind of temptation, nightmare, etc. Marvin is still in Teen Challenge after completing his year, but he’s struggling with learning humility with his leaders. Bladimir is moving forward but lacks foundation. Cristhian, to put it quite frankly, is a walking, disciplinary terror. But, God heard my prayers and finally put him with a leader who knows how to discipline him without falling into his manipulation (he’s small and cute and uses those things to his advantage). Stefany is step by step getting to know her Heavenly Father, but much is lacking in her healing. And, if you think about it, pray for me too. This mama is in terrible need of a rest (which is coming up at the end of the month). I will be in the States for a period of time to recharge and am willing to speak at any church, function, or group who would have such a desire. (I have some powerful stories to tell!) If you’d like to be in contact with me while I’m in the States, you can email me at sarah.crickenberger@gmail.com.




All of my love,
Sarah

If we only knew...

I know that it's rare for me to update so often, but I needed to share some raw thoughts.


For the past couple of months, I've had the story of Hosea replaying over and over in my heart. The story of Hosea starts like this, "Go, take to yourself an adulterous wife..." She is true to her original nature, and she runs away.



She said, I will go after my lovers, who give me my food and my water, my wool and my linen, my oil and my drink.' Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes; I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way. She will chase after her lovers but not catch them. Then she will say, 'I will go back to my husband as at first, for then I was better off than now.' She has not acknowledged that I was the one who gave her the grain, the new wine and oil, who lavished on her the silver and gold--which they used for Baal.


I lost Joel on Monday. He made the decision to leave Teen Challenge and return to the streets. Because he is legally considered an adult, he made the choice as an adult. There was nothing more I could do. I still love him with all of my heart, and I believe that God isn't done with him yet.



Therefore I am going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Vally of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt. "In that day," declares the Lord, "you will call me 'my husband'; you will no longer call me 'my master.' . . . I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion. I will betroth you in faithfulness, and you will acknowledge the Lord.


This weekend, I had Marvin, Josuan, and Jesús (and Erick who stays with his mom) on leave all at the same time. From hour number one, I knew that if I made it through this weekend with all of my kids together as my responsibility that I should probably win some kind of single mother medal. My morning this morning started with God waking me up super early to pray. This is not unusual other than how He had me praying for my children--covering them with Jesus' blood, sending angels to surround them, and pleading for God's furious love to keep pursuing them. In the middle of my prayers, Josuan and Marvin arrived at my house at 6:30 AM from the room where they sleep where Raúl lives. Josuan burst into my house asking me if Jesús was here; he wasn't. At first, because my kids all like to freak me out, I thought they were joking. But, the truth was that Jesús left at 4 AM. He had packed his things the night before (not unusual since he had to return to Teen Challenge today), and without my boys knowing, he left. My heart sunk in a way that I cannot express--like I was about to lose part of myself. So, we grabbed my keys, hopped into my car, and started driving and looking for him. I won't lie--I didn't think we were going to find him. Josuan, my pillar of faith, was praying and declaring that we were going to find him. The night before, it was late when I took them home, but we ran into Pastora Mirna, a friend of Mami Nelly's and one of the few people who has been a support and constant encourager for me. She had never met Jesús, but God shows this woman a lot. She began to tell him all kinds of advice that was perfectly direct and spoke to his situation--without knowing anything about his past. Josuan and Marvin were exhausted, but I didn't cut her off because I felt that if God was speaking to her in this way that it was because my son needed it.



I will plant her for myself in the land; I will show my love to the one I called 'Not my loved one.' I will say to those called 'Not my people,' 'You are my people'; and they will say, 'You are my God.'


God adores my Jesús. We could've gone first to the room to make sure he wasn't there, but we didn't. Split second decision. It would've been lost time. We were going to go to the market where the bus stations are for Jesús' hometown since we knew that that was where he'd be headed. My baby doesn't know his birthday. He has no idea how old he is. His heart aches for a sense of identity. He longs to belong to a family. And, he convinces himself from time to time that he will find all of this back in his hometown where he was left for dead after a murder attempt that involved 10 bullets and seven stab wounds--the same hometown where these same attackers still are who will kill him if they see him alive. He has been gone and in various centers and juvenile delinquent facilities for the past two years from what I understand, and his family has never looked for him. Even when he lived in his hometown, he lived on the streets (without his family) until a guy took him into his home. But, Jesús builds it up in his mind that the perfect family he seeks are those blood-related. So, he bolted. There were two routes we could've taken to the market. The boys knew both routes, but we decided to pass up the first route because of possible traffic. Split second decision. We wouldn't have have seen him. He would've been gone. It would've been over if we would have taken the first route. Only minutes later, we found him. He was walking on the side of the road with an angry look on his face, his framed baptism certificate in his hand, carrying his duffle bag. I pulled over, let the boys get out to talk to him, and buried my head in my hands to cry and for a moment to find the strength and the words for this fifth escape attempt--although the first on my watch.



The Lord said to me, "Go, show your love to your wife again, though she is loved by another and is an adultress. Love her as the Lord loves the Israelites, though they turn to other gods and love the sacred raisin cakes. So I bought her. . .


It was like trying to talk a suicidal person out of jumping off of a tall building. His life, his soul, our family all hung in the balance. He didn't want to hear anything. I tried. Josuan tried. The shadow (person who supervises the first couple of leaves) of Josuan tried. He didn't want to talk to anyone. I signed for him to take him out of 21, so I'm legally responsible for him. Thus, I gave him the same speech I gave Josuan: "I love you. I'm here fighting for you because you are important to me. But, if you don't want to be my son, I can't force you. But, tell me your plan because I'm not going to throw you out on the street. If you don't want to be my son, I respect your decision, but you have to go back to IHNFA. We'll take you into police custody because I'm not just going to throw you onto the streets. I don't want to do that, but it's your decision." He decided that's what we'd do, so Marvin called the police. The call didn't go through. He tried again. No luck. Josuan nudged Jesús with desperation, "Don't you see! Satan wants to kill you! He wants to steal your life. He wants to steal you from our mami. But don't you see how God is fighting for you? The call didn't go through because God doesn't want you to make this mistake." So, we got him into the car to go to the police station. On the way there, Josuan hugged Jesús around the neck and talked into his ear with tears streaming down his face, fighting for his brother's life, while I prayed in tongues, at a loss for what else I could do. By the time we arrived back in our neighborhood, Jesús had made the decision that he wanted to be my son and would return to Teen Challenge with his brothers.



Afterward the Israelites will return and seek the Lord their God and David their king. They will come trembling to the Lord and to his blessings in the last days.


A lot of people don't "get" what it is that I'm doing with my sons. To be honest with you, a lot of times, I don't "get" it either. All of this just started with stopping for the one. Stopping to love one broken person in my path. Then another. Then another. And so on. I had no plans of my own. Just obedience. Just supernatural love that only comes from Jesus. But, after taking my sons to Teen Challenge and Marvin to his family's house, I came home, got on my knees, and cried out to Jesus to shake free of the loss that nearly consumed me today, how Satan nearly robbed me of my beloved son. I have reached the absolute end of myself. All I can do is beg for mercy. But, do you see what God is doing here? Do you see how God is making us a family? Jesús stepped back from the ledge today because Josuan fought for him when I didn't have any more words. I fought for Josuan for months. He almost ran away from me three times (even with a broken leg) to return to a life of drugs and abuse. But, God rescued Josuan and gave him to me. Now, he gets it. He knows he's not an orphan. He knows he's loved. And now Josuan fights for Jesús. That's the secret--stop for the One who is the One and stop for the one in front of you. And that one will stop for another one and so on. This past Sunday, the pastor sent all of my children to me to pray for me together. It became one giant embrace of us all--including Josuan's sister. And, I cried and shook and felt an electric wave of God's presence and strength holding us together as a family when I am simply too weak to do so.



I get a lot of criticism for loving my children--showing my children I love them--as if I've given birth to them because supposedly they're only "spiritual children." Trust me, if I hold back, they will know, and I will lose them. And I love them as fiercely as if they carry my blood in their veins--how am I supposed to contain that? I can't be half of a mom. I get a lot of criticism because I've never been a natural mother, so supposedly, this means that I can't be a good adoptive mom. I get a lot of criticism because I'm a single mom. I never wanted to be a single mom. I fought with God over obeying Him and taking hold of this family as mine. But, I'm sure Mary, the mother of Jesus, didn't want to be pregnant out of wedlock, but if she wouldn't have let God be the Father of her firstborn child (instead of Joseph), I wouldn't have a Savior. We never know what will be born out of our obedience to God even when man says, "It can't be done. It shouldn't be done. It looks bad." So, I grab a hold of Isaiah 54, and I keep fighting.



If we only knew what we're fighting for, we'd never say no to Jesus again. Today, I saw in the eyes of my son what I fight for. I see his soul on the very brink, and I know that if I don't fight to show this young man the furious, unrelenting, constant love of Jesus, he will die never having known Him or His perfect love. Can I live with myself if that happens, knowing that I could have, should have, and was called to do more, to love more? Can I live knowing that I wasted my life on something that had no eternal value for the life of another? Can I live knowing that someone died without the love of Jesus filling heart and soul and life and thoughts because I was too afraid or too stubborn or too lazy to obey God? Can I live with myself knowing that I was the person called to love that murderer, thief, gang member, orphan, street kid, prostitute, or neighbor back to life? No, because my heart burns for them; it aches for them to know His love.



Do you know why they run away? They run away for the same reason that Jesús ran away today. They want to know if they're valuable enough to be pursued. They want to know if someone will run after them to rescue them from themselves. They do not know His love. They feel like orphans. They do not believe that they belong to anyone. They do not realize they're not alone. They do not see their own worth. They lack a sense of identity. That's why Jesus sends us out like Hosea to bring in His lost bride--over and over and over again until His love seeps into their souls and heals their orphan hearts. If Jesus keeps knocking on the door of our hearts, He calls us to keep to running after them, keep looking for that one lost lamb, and to keep burning with the fire of His love and a passion for His children.



His love looks like this:
Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.



I regret nothing. I've lost nothing. I'll keep fighting. I'll keep running after Jesús always. I'll keep loving. If you only knew what you're fighting for, if you only knew what was at stake, if you only knew that what you do for the least of these you do to Jesus, it would change your entire life, turn your world upside down, and keep you fighting too.

Seven.

Erick and I

Hello All,

I’ve started writing an update in my head numerous times in the past few weeks, but when it comes to the time and energy to actually start writing something, my son’s letters for the week usually win in the priority war. But, as I’m listening to Counting Crows’ “Big Yellow Taxi” on repeat and the rain pouring outside in the middle of our rainy season, I thought I’d take the time to be personal. As I imagine is the case for many people my age—mid-twenties—I feel like I’ve been in a bit of an identity mystery. In the past couple weeks, I’ve been really exhausted. Actually, I feel like if anyone would have asked me at any given point in time this year, I probably would’ve answered the same because it’s just been a super stretching year. It’s also been a really amazing, crazy year full of the fulfillment of a lot of God’s promises and witnessing so much of God’s faithfulness.


With that said, I feel like I’m back in college around the very end of a very long, very hard semester when I’ve worked myself—body, mind, spirit—to the point that the only thing left to hold onto is the fact that it’s almost over. At the end of every semester, I usually had to spend the first solid two to three days just sleeping in order to recover from a semester of pushing myself so much. My poor family was gracious enough to let me disappear to become a human being again. The trick with my life at the moment is that I never really know if it’s—it being the season of non-stop going, spiritually fighting, and standing in faith for God’s promises—almost over. I’d like to tell you that I rejoice every time I get a word from someone telling me that God is telling me to keep pushing or to keep holding on or that He would give me supernatural strength, but the truth is that a little part of me hangs it head knowing that this word means that I have to learn more perseverance, and there is no rest just yet. I never really know when I’m going to get a break, and for that reason, sometimes the exhaustion takes over and blinds all sense of hope.


This was the case this past Sunday. As many of you may already know, I recently adopted three more boys and sent them to Teen Challenge—if you want to know more about their stories or the stories of any of my boys, please click above on the tab that says, “My Family.” (I say adopted because I mean that with all of my heart, but let me be clear in refreshing your memories that I can’t legally adopt them.) So, now, I have seven in Teen Challenge. (Well, perhaps, I should say six because Erick has his mom, so I’m mainly a support system for her. John escaped nearly two months ago and is living with his mom.) I can’t go to 21 anymore unless I’m ready to adopt someone else because I have a reputation now, and the population of 30+ boys swarms me saying, “Please, take me! You’re going to help me, right? You’re going to send me to Teen Challenge, right? I want to be your son.” And, when I go to Teen Challenge, I have seven boys in need of socks, toothpaste, deodorant, etc. Seven boys in need of mami’s love and attention. Seven boys with seven different, difficult pasts and reputations. Seven boys with jealousy issues, identity crises, forgiveness problems, old enemies, drug addictions, discipline battles, and needs for unconditional love. Seven boys from different gangs, who have been together in the same juvenile delinquent centers, and who have different prejudices against each other from their histories together. Even when I’ve gotten scared, God has been so faithful financially that I am speechless. I never know how it’s all going to work out with my finances, and I’m amazed by all that I’m able to do with what comes in, but even with never knowing where the money is going to come from, I can trust that He always provides. With that said, my greatest struggle then is often feeling like there is never enough of me to go around. The three new ones don’t even have permission to have visits yet, and I’m already wondering how on earth I’m going to split my time among seven instead of among four.

My new son, Cristhian



My nephew, Joel, who is Naty and Martha's adopted son--our first to come directly off of the streets to Teen Challenge

Bladimir, Alvin's son, who I just sent to Teen Challenge last week

God is doing amazing things in my children, and I am so proud of them. Marvin just finished his year in Teen Challenge on August 30 and has been given the opportunity to start his own business. Erick is abandoning his rebellious ways and is once again a leader in his building. Jesús has recovered—mostly—from the wanting to escape and is on the road to being a leader in his building. Josuan’s changes are the most pronounced for me simply because I’ve been with him every step of the way from seeing him high and dirty on the streets to having a broken leg and a broken heart to learning to let me love him to being a little man of God. With no prompting from me (other than always maintaining that he needs to forgive his mom), he recently wrote his biological mother a letter asking for her forgiveness, and he forgave her himself. He called her a couple Sundays ago to say hello and told her he loved her for the first time in his entire life. When I met Josuan, he hated his mother, and this hatred contaminated our relationship with his assumptions that I would abandon him, stop loving him, or would replace him with a new child. It’s been a battle to say the least, but what God is doing in his heart is amazing. Watching him, now perfectly healthy, dancing with joy for God, praying for other people, and writing me letters about the passion he has for lost souls, keeps me going because it’s the fruit of perseverance and is a work that only God can do. He fasts for my health and finances, and he picks me up and encourages me when I feel like I have nothing else to hold onto. And, through Josuan, God is rescuing Stefany, his younger sister. She has recently started going with me every Sunday to Teen Challenge, has gotten very close to me in telling me much about her own life, and she wants to give her broken heart to Jesus because of the testimony of her big brother. Is there anything more beautiful? God is giving me a daughter through the fruit of loving my son. And it is seeing how God has used unconditional love through this broken vessel to change Josuan that gives me the faith to see Joel (my adopted nephew and our first young person to come directly off of the streets), Bladimir (Alvin’s son who worked with Raúl for a while before being put in 21 for stealing again), and Cristhian (who is by far my biggest problem child yet even though he’s the youngest) restored and held in the arms of Jesus.




Josuan talking to his mother on the phone



Marvin, who completed his year in Teen Challenge on August 30



With all of these good things, you would think that I’d be a steady faith machine just plowing through all obstacles like a pro. However, as previously mentioned, sometimes, the exhaustion and the lack of a relief in sight steals my hope, and I lose it. On Sunday, I’d been trying to contain myself and talk myself out of a big breakdown. Really, if it wasn’t for Josuan, who knows me all too well, wrapping his arms around me and telling me how much he loves me all day long, I would’ve lost it sooner. But, after a testy conversation with Marvin, I got in my car to leave and cried the whole way home. My usual insecurity is feeling like I’m not qualified to be their mami, like I’m too young, too inexperienced, and too idealistic. (It’s the perfectionist in me that ruins me.) But, over and over, God tells me, “I picked you to be their mami. That is sufficient.”


Due to a disagreement over girlfriend/dating issues, Marvin threw that insecurity in my face with full force, “Mami, you’ve never been through what we’ve been through, so you can’t understand us. You haven’t had the same experiences. You’ve never even had a boyfriend, so you don’t even understand what it’s like to like someone. There are just going to be some things that you can’t speak to me about because you just don’t get it.”


Now, I was a teenager once (uhm, yeah, about five years ago), so I know this ploy all too well. I know the feeling that parents just don’t understand, and I know how to use that justification as a young person because I used it (about seven years ago, I imagine). So, reading Marvin’s comments outside of the pressure of the moment makes me recognize that no one is a parent because they’ve got all the answers or have had all of the experiences. My grandmother wrote me a comforting email months ago reminding me that she and my mother never knew how to be parents before they had kids, so I had to give myself the grace to not have all of the answers. And, I can recognize that it’s not necessary for me to have had a ton of boyfriends, tried every drug, lived on the streets, etc. to be their mami. I am their mami simply because God called me and according to Colossians 1:12, He’s the One who qualifies me—not my experiences. (“…and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light.”) But, in the moment, after so many other moments, I lost it. It was an accumulation of too many things at once. It was staying up late to finish Josuan’s weekly letter. It was the getting up at five to cook for 10 people. It was the four trips to the car to carry everything. It was the terrible traffic. It was Jesús greeting me with the all-too-familiar “I don’t want to be here anymore,” which later turned out to be a manipulative move simply because he’d lost his visit for cussing at his leaders. (Thankfully, Raúl had come with me to Teen Challenge after months of bugging him, and he took over giving Jesús advice because I was clearly done.) It was Cristhian’s leader pleading with me to tell him to behave (as if that’s going to magically solve all problems with my hyperactive, disobedient son). It was Joel sending someone yet again to ask me for money when he knows fully that if I can’t give to all seven, I’m not going to give to one. I provide for their needs; materialistically, extras aren’t always guaranteed. It was a series of embarrassing moments. It was the recognizing that I’m doing this all by myself (with help from Naty and Martha when they can) and have no promise of any long-term, personal, human help any time soon. And it was the exhaustion of body, mind, and soul that got the best of me.


Crying on the drive home in front of my carload, I internally told God, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be a single mom to so many children anymore. You got the wrong girl. I'm so young! I don't know what I'm doing! I don’t have to do any of what I’m doing. Am I wasting my time here? I feel like a failure. How long are You going to make me wait before sending me some help? I don’t want to be a single mom anymore. My kids need a dad. I need some help.” In the moment, even though in the bottom of my heart I knew that I would pull through this moment of doubt, I never wanted to go back to Teen Challenge, and if someone would’ve given me a plane ticket to go to the States that day, it would’ve been nearly impossible not to jump at the chance to escape. It was just tunnel vision of exhaustion.



Mama's boy...

When I got home, as is my usual habit, the first thing I did was read Josuan’s letter (while crying some more). Could you abandon someone who tells you things like this?
“Hello mami, how are you? . . . I just saw you, and I already miss you. . . . This letter that you wrote me this week made me so happy. Reading that you love me so much and so many beautiful things. You’re an important piece for my spiritual healing, and you’re part of my life. You’re my mami, and I love you so much. Thank you for giving me your love and affection. And believe me, I’m trying to make all of my bad things into good things. I’m praying and fasting for your finances. I know that God answers my petitions, and you just believe that God is going to do something big in my life and in yours too.”


I can’t abandon that. Out of all of my children, I’ve had the most time with Josuan. He knows me the best, and we’re the most alike personality-wise. And, I think God did that on purpose—giving me Josuan first—to keep me going with the rest. His prayers, his fasts, his hugs, his letters, and his faith keep me going when my own do not suffice anymore. So, I snapped out of it.




But, I’ve spent this entire week just resting. This life that I’m leading is so bizarre. I live my week out like a single college girl, not eating or eating random food like oatmeal on repeat because I hate cooking for just myself, being lonely in the evenings, and wondering what on earth I’m doing with my life. Then, on the weekends, I’m in full-blown mom mode, making sure that everyone has everything they need, cooking for my boys, driving to pick them up, having advice sessions about everything from washing their socks to not playing with girls’ emotions, and I’ve never had such a clear sense of purpose. But, apart from them, I feel like I have no life or sense of identity. I get that this is relatively normal for parents. My parents are on their last kid at home, and they’re still doing the non-stop soccer, band, homework rounds that they did with me and my brother. So, I get that it’s normal that my kids are all I talk about, think about, and work for. What hasn’t been normal is that I never had nine months of preparation or even nine months to get used to the idea of being a mom. I never had the infant bonding years. I never had the terrible twos. I never had the tooth losing years, the science fair years, or the middle school dance years. My motherhood went straight to adolescence but not even just any adolescence. My motherhood is all about picking up someone else’s pieces. My motherhood is all about winning their trust when they have no reason of experience to give it to me. My motherhood is all about believing that love is greater than the past hurt. My motherhood is all about heartbreak thinking about the many years when I didn’t know them, when they lived on the streets, ate from the garbage, and got high on every drug imaginable. My motherhood is physically only on the weekends right now but emotionally and spiritually is every moment of every day. My motherhood keeps me desperately running to Jesus, and the moment that I stop, it’s all over.


I know that within this next year, my six years of living alone and free and independent will be over. I really like my freedom. I have enjoyed not having obligations even though I’m not spontaneous or irresponsible. So, especially as an introvert, I’m still trying to grapple with the idea of no longer being alone and having my children with me all the time. It’s scary, especially thinking back to the battles I had with Josuan. But, that’s the reason that they’re in Teen Challenge—to equip them to fight together, to bring them to the place of depending on Jesus instead of just on me, and to heal enough to become a family one step at a time. Believe me—it’s a process for me as well. I’m going back to the States for a three-week break (that was planned before the meltdown, not as a result of the meltdown) starting Thanksgiving week, and it’s crazy for me to think that in only a year and half (since the last time I was in the States) that I’m returning not only with seven lives—nine including my boys in El Buen Pastor—depending on mine but with an entirely different identity as a adoptive mom. But even in the midst of doubt and exhaustion, I have to take hold of the scripture that Josuan continuously reminds me of,


“And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”
– Philippians 1:6




Josuan, Joel and I. Joel and Josuan used to sleep on the same street corner and eat out of the same garbage. Joel is partially at Teen Challenge because of Josuan's testimony.

Thank you so much for reading and for your prayers! We definitely need them!

All of my love,
Sarah

PS On September 3, I celebrated two years of living in Honduras. That’s a pretty big milestone for me. I’m happy that God has me here.


Fighting as a Family

Naomi, Raúl, and I during her visit here in July
Hello All,

Well, July got away from me without updating, but miraculously, here we are in August already. This year is just flying by. It has been one of the most difficult (if not THE MOST difficult) years of my life, but it has also been one of extreme blessing and purpose. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world because I can see how God is moving me forward in His will.


Naomi and the Hedgesville Hope for Honduras Team

My sister, Naomi, was able to visit with the team that consists of my teacher from student teaching and some of her students. It’s always a pleasure to have them here although I felt bad because they came in a time when my exhaustion level was maxed out. (Just to review my life thus far this year: I adopted Jesús at the beginning of February and sent him to Teen Challenge. Josuan broke his leg in the end of February and was with me non-stop until May 6. In that time, we had numerous teams. Josuan was in Teen Challenge a little over two weeks before the rod in his leg migrated up his back, resulting in two more surgeries and month more of recovery with me starting May 23. During his recovery in June, my cousin, Gabrielle, was here. Josuan returned to Teen Challenge June 23. Gabrielle left, and the following day, Marvin and Erick had leave, which meant running around with them all weekend. Thus, I had one day before my sister and the team came.)

This was me basically the entire time that my sister was here--just so exhausted.
The team went to the Feeding Centers, where my teacher, Nancy, was able to meet her two sponsor children. They also went to the hospital to hand out packets of baby clothes, diapers, etc. to the new mothers who often don’t have anything. They cleared the ground at Feeding Center #2 and started building a playground. We had issues with visiting any of the IHNFA centers because they were all on strike while they were here. Thus, they didn’t make it to 21. They did visit the girls’ juvenile detention center, and we had a great time playing soccer with the girls. It was also great to hear Coach Kelly’s testimony. They were able to briefly visit Casitas Kennedy as well. They wrapped up their trip by visiting a public school, Naomi's favorite part.  

The team with some of their Honduran friends at Feeding Center #1.


Clearing the ground at Feeding Center #2.



One of the special needs kids from Casitas Kennedy

Naomi with some school kids

Smile!

We also took the team to the streets to hand out sandwiches and Tang. While we were there, I found Victor—a young man who was in 21 last year when this same team was here. He had left with his grandmother to return to his home, but because of drug problems, he left and returned to the streets. I can’t tell you how many or how often I come across boys on the street who I’ve met in 21. I want to help them all in all honesty, but I have to wait as God gives them to me through His provision, through circumstances, etc.



Victor and I

Wilmer, one of my best buddies (and possibly one of the cutest children on earth) who always runs to me saying, "Sala!!!! I know you!"

Naty, Josue Joel, and I. Josue is one of Naty's sons (and my nephew). From day one, he called Naty "Papi."

Naomi and a friend



The location in el centro where Josuan used to hang out and dig through trash for food

As was the case last year, the unique part of this team is that they purposefully spend time and include other Honduran teenagers. It was very cool to see those relationships continue to develop for a second year in a row. The Honduran teens look forward to this team coming and count down the days until they can see their gringo friends again.

Although I was tired, it was great to have Naomi here and to be able to share with her the people and places that have made Honduras home. She did well with adjusting and participating even though she could speak limited Spanish. I think she discovered that the language of love is understood no matter where you go. This was evident in the connection she made with Sherlley, Estiven’s daughter. Sherlley ran through the house asking where “Sarita’s sister” was. (Eventually, she did learn how to say Naomi.) 

Naomi and Sherlley

 


Selfishly, my favorite parts of my time spent with Naomi were sharing my second family (Raúl’s family) with her and by taking her to meet my sons. It helps my boys so much to know that even though my family doesn’t live close by that they do love and accept them as my sons. Although there was a language barrier, it was fun to watch my boys take pictures with Naomi, and they loved the gifts that Nancy sent and the ones their grandmother (my mom) sent as well.

Naomi and I at Pichacho

Naomi and Jesús



Tía Naomi and Marvin

Josuan was so excited to receive this shirt from his grandmother, especially with his name spelled correctly!

Yuscaran

 Well, another part of the ministry in which the team participated (minus Naomi) was going to Yuscaran to hand out items and food and join in the usual church service. It occurs to me that I haven’t updated about Yuscaran in forever, and that’s primarily because I haven’t been in forever. Naty and Martha continue going every other Sunday as always, but I stopped whenever God made it clear that I needed to be more involved with my boys at Teen Challenge. Naty and Martha recently have had a lot of good news. They were given an acre of land for the church by the mayor, and a team from the US, headed by a former missionary to Honduras, will be coming to build a cement block church and possibly two classrooms in November. Thus, they are preparing the land now to put the foundation for the church. After three years of faithful service, holding church services outside in the sunshine and rain, they are finally going to have a place to congregate their people.


Elvis’ Dad

To give you an update on how the situation is with my the father of my son, Elvis, there hasn’t been much movement forward. The social worker at El Buen Pastor has had significant difficulties in getting a hold of the mayor in Trojes to find out if he’ll donate some land to build a house. If that isn’t an option, my next question to explore would be whether Elvis’ father would be willing to relocate. It would be easier for me to ensure his long-term care anyway if he is closer to me. As it is, he lives four hours away. So, we’ll see what happens with the situation. As God opens the doors, I’m committed to helping in any way that He leads.



Erick and I

My Kind of Motherhood

Let me give you some glimpses into my unconventional yet truly precious family to give you an idea of what my kind of motherhood is like…

The first Sunday after Gabrielle left, my sons and I had a big confrontation. As a mom, I’m balancing some very interesting dynamics of rival soccer gangs, past histories on the streets and in IHNFA centers, and one of my sons even unknowingly used a knife to try to rob a family member of another son. Other than the shared time in 21, I’m the only thing holding this seemingly random group of boys together, and, trust me, I have my share of sibling rivalry issues to deal with, especially in competing for my attention. Thus, we had a very clear conversation that either all of my children would learn to get along together, or I would stop coming to visit or would only visit those who could get along. (I won’t lie—that was a bit of a mom bluff just because I love them too much to stay away forever. But, it was exactly what they needed to hear. By the end of the conversation, they were making amends, apologizing to me, and promising that the following Sunday would be better.) Since then, we’ve had no problems of that nature to that extent.

Josuan has reached the point that he can’t stand to hide anything from me—good or bad. He had told me numerous times that he wanted to tattoo my initials on himself, and I adamantly told him that I did not want to make any appearance on his skin. While I was flattered that he loves me and wants the world to know I’m his mami, memories of me are sufficient. But, without going into details as to how he managed this one, he did tattoo my initials on his skin.



There is no one like my Jesús...

The last time that Jesús was on leave, he was adamant that he wanted to wash my car. Jesús’ way of showing me love is by serving. He is so precious! He won’t sit down unless I sit down, and he cleans my house until it’s spotless. He helps me cook even though he doesn’t like cooking, and he is so proud when he does a good job. Because he basically never went to school, working and serving are his ways of showing his capabilities and talents. So, I let him wash my car. (He did an amazing job!) He said, “Now, Mom, you just go sit down and let me take care of this. I’ll show you when I’m done.” When he finally calls me over, I realize that he has ripped up his entire jacket to dry my car because he didn’t have any more clean rags.

When my boys have had leave, I have also returned with them to 21. Words cannot express my pride as I watch Marvin, Erick, or Jesús preaching to the boys who are in the same position they were in X number of months ago. There is just such a power in my sons and what God is doing in and through them! Jesús (who struggles with speaking clearly as a complication of the 10 gunshots and seven stab wounds) preached to the boys, and afterwards, many were interested in going to Teen Challenge. We laugh as a family because when someone encourages Jesús to talk up Teen Challenge or encourage someone to go, he tends to say, “Teen Challenge is really beautiful. They discipline you there. If you don’t listen, they make you do 500 squats. You should definitely go.”

Speaking of squats, a few Sundays ago, I arrived to see Josuan, standing and waiting patiently for me. When he comes over to hug me, I notice that he is practically waddling…so it comes out that he was joking too much with a leader and was given a punishment of either losing his visit with me or doing 500 squats. And even having just been operated on only a month before and being physically out of shape, he did all 500. His response—“Mami, I’d do 2000 squats. I’m not losing my visit with you!” We also write letters to each other every day. It was something that God laid on my heart to have him do when he left for Teen Challenge since I know he struggles so much with being away from me and with sharing me with his brothers (after being the only one with me for four months). Now, he’s well known as being the crazy kid who is constantly writing. Even when they turn the lights out in his bunkhouse, he asks for permission to keep writing in the bathroom. I read his letters over and over and over throughout the week, and he reads mine over and over as well. He writes so many precious things, and they’re things that I want to share because they bless my heart so much, but at the same time, they’re all just my son, and I can’t pick just an excerpt or two. You just have to know him.



Josuan getting my letter for him for the week

Jesús is also truly unique and precious. (I’m laughing as I write this.) One Sunday while Gabrielle was here, a leader was completing his year in Teen Challenge and was called up front to give a speech. They had had a rough week with some problems with various boys there, and in his speech, the leader asked for forgiveness of three particular boys (NEVER mentioning Jesús) and called them up to give them a hug. Jesús (whose name, I repeat, was not called) rises from his seat with an extreme determination on his face, approaches the leader seriously, and wraps him up in a hug as everyone in the crowd looks on with confusion. Suddenly, all of his Teen Challenge buddies just started yelling, “Yeah Chuy! (his nickname)” I don’t know what struck my child in that moment that made him feel like he had to get himself a hug up front, but it has become one of my favorite Jesús moments.



He makes me smile!

Last weekend, Marvin was on leave. I have opened Pandora’s box with the driving lessons because that’s what they all want to do when they’re on leave. I, personally, do not enjoy being a driving teacher, but this is how we bond. It’s also how I’m able to learn about their personalities and learning styles and gauge the growth in their characters. Marvin is pretty stubborn. He gets irritated when I’m too quick to grab the steering wheel or the emergency break. I am surprisingly patient. I’ve never yelled at any of them even when Marvin backed my car into a small tree (and dragged it for a while) or when Josuan nearly drove us into a drainage ditch. I’ve got some pretty big trust in my guardian angels. This past driving lesson, Marvin was struggling to know where he was on the road exactly. I was warning him to turn the wheel or stop as he was going to go into a massive, deep hole or hit the oncoming car. He didn’t listen, so I braced myself for the (two) giant holes. I kid you not—I’m pretty sure angels lifted us up out of the holes because I thought for sure we were going to be completely stuck. When we miraculously exit them both, he looks at me sheepishly and says, “I’m never going to drive again, Mami. I’m so sorry. I should’ve listened.” “Yes, you should’ve, but we all make mistakes. Obey me next time, or there won’t be a next time.” “Okay. I won’t make any mistakes ever again. I’m going to be your chauffeur someday. I have to take care of this car because it’s my inheritance.” They all think that my car is their inheritance. Seven sons, one car…you do the math.



Advice session with my little man, Marvin

Last Friday, Marvin had leave, and I also took Josuan to his checkup appointment for his leg. He didn’t really need the appointment (in my point of view) because he can already walk, run, play soccer, etc. (although he shouldn’t really be doing all of that so quickly). We went primarily to take advantage of the time together, so I drove the hour to Teen Challenge, picked up him and his brothers, drove to the hospital, waiting in the hospital basically all day, and drove him the hour back the same day. While we were at the hospital, I trusted Josuan enough to pick up his own X-ray while Marvin and I went to turn in his paperwork for his appointment. When he returned, he had his street kid face on. When he’s going through some kind of attack of the enemy, a bad attitude, anxiousness for drugs, etc., his entire face, expressions, movements, etc., change to be the way he was when I met him in 21 and saw him high on glue on the streets. It’s the reason he can’t lie to me as well any more. So, I asked him, “What happened? Who did you see?” And he tried to deny it and shake it off, but I continued, “Son, you know that I know you. Don’t lie to me. What happened?” And it angrily spilled out that he had had a run-in with an old enemy from a rival gang who was there with friends and got in his face. Josuan’s saving grace in the situation (and God’s protection) was that a guard stepped between them, and Josuan was able to walk away. This is my kind of motherhood. This is why I so need your prayers. I never know the kind of situations I am putting myself in just by going normal places with my sons. While they don’t try to hide their pasts, we never know when we’re going to see a former enemy. But, God is always so faithful to protect us.

Fighting as a Family

After roughly four months of going to Teen Challenge consistently, God is finally making us a family. It is a beautiful thing. It, however, is not without its constant challenges. There is a video by Kris Vallotton that I really like called “Spirit Wars” on YouTube in which he states, “Spiritual conflicts most often occur when we advance into new territory that is inhabited by evil spirits. . . . Most often the battle happens when you enter into territory that is your territory, that is your promised land, but you have never inhabited it. And then one day you say, ‘you know, I think I have this talent; I think I’d like to do this; I think I’d like to preach; I think I’d like to pray for the sick; I think I’d like to take up art; I think I’d like to whatever. I think I’d like to . . . and suddenly, you realize that evil spirits have been keeping you out of that land forever, and when you made almost just a casual decision, you entered into this huge conflict! And it’s like, what the heck is that?! Your territory that was inhabited by somebody who you were supposed to kick out. See, the battle almost always happens when you decide to take territory that was always yours, but you never inhabited it. . . . All he’s trying to do is scare you. Scare you from the pursuit of your promised land.”

I find this to be unbelievably true. I cannot explain to you the spiritual attacks that my family (of sons) and I have been under this year or even just in the past few months. Ever since I became the sole person responsible for Josuan, I’ve had unexplained stomach issues, resulting in 10-12 pounds of unintentional weight loss and great difficulty in eating. (So I just offer up whatever inability to eat up to God as a fast, and He honors it.) I had two nasty bouts of bronchitis within two months. Marvin has had two nasty bouts of stomach infection. John had a sinus infection, and now, Erick has had flu-like symptoms for a week. And, all of this has been within the past two to three months. Not to mention everything that happened with Josuan’s leg (which God worked for His good completely).

My boys struggle constantly with temptations to escape from Teen Challenge and with anxiousness for drugs. Jesús, I’m fairly certain, is going to set the record for attempts to escape Teen Challenge. He’s tried to escape four times now, and they always catch him and bring him back. Josuan openly has told me of the temptations that he’s had to escape (primarily because he misses me and wants to show up at my house). John has wanted to escape since March, and Marvin, my most solid son in faith, packed his bags to leave just a little over a month ago before admitting to his leader his weakness and need for discipline. Josuan recently confessed to me that before he went to Teen Challenge the second time, he wasn’t looking for drugs or trouble, and a neighbor brought him some marijuana he had found. So, having the pot placed in his hands, he took it with him but was so afraid of getting caught and losing his visit with me that he got rid of it without smoking it. When my son reaches a point where he really wants his life to change, the enemy finds a way to just bring him drugs with no purchase at all!

When I go to Teen Challenge, I have to be spiritually, mentally, and emotionally prepared. I never know what my boys are going to be dealing with, and I have to be ready to be firm and fight for them and with them. The past two Sundays, I’ve had similar conversations—once with Josuan and last week with Jesús. The conversation with Josuan went something like this (as he's continuously crying):
“Mami, I don’t want to be here anymore. I never wanted to be here.”
“Son, how many times have we had the conversation that life isn’t about what we want. It’s about what God wants and His best for us. You’re here because God has you here. Do you want me to be your mami?”
“Yes! You know that I do. You’re my whole life.”
“Well, you already know that being my son means obeying my decisions for your best. This is my decision for you to be here, and if you want me to be your mami, it’s not negotiable.”
“Why did God do this to me? Why did He make me love you so much? Why did He give me all that time with you only to have to be away from you now? He should've just brought me directly here. Or He never should have made me love you.”
“Son, you see me every Sunday. I haven’t abandoned you. God hasn’t abandoned you.”
“I know. I just, I love you so much. I miss you so much during the week. It’s so hard to wait to see you when I feel so alone. I’m just going to go back to the streets and do drugs if you don’t want me with you.”
“Son, even if you are with me, do you think you’re not going to have temptations? You almost went back to the streets three times when you were with me, and you had two incidents with marijuana even with how vigilant I was. Being with me does not mean that you stop having conflicts and temptations. You need to be here right now because you need to develop firmness in Christ to resist the devil. Josuan, stop listening to the lies that Satan is feeding you right now. Everything that is coming out of your mouth is a lie from the enemy. This moment is going to pass. It’s a moment of difficulty, but we’re going to resist, and it’s going to pass.”
(The entire time I’m praying and asking God for wisdom, and just as suddenly as the street kid emerged to have this conversation, he disappeared. Throughout the conversation, it was like a demon was sitting on my son’s shoulder feeding him lies with a spoon like someone feeds a baby. But, after making my stand, within minutes, Josuan was laughing and saying, “What is wrong with me? I’m so sorry for behaving that way, Mami.”

 

Josuan and Jesús--they take good care of each other.

This past Sunday, Jesús quite seriously brings me a note and tells me, “I don’t want to be here anymore. I can’t stand it anymore. I tried to escape yesterday.” I read the note someone else had written for him, and it says, “Sara, the reason for this letter is that your son Jesús comments the following: He doesn’t want to be here, and if you don’t take him out of here, he is going to escape. He can no longer endure being here, and he is thankful to you and your family for everything that you’ve done for him. And he loves you and will continue to love you. God bless you and guard you.” I had to restrain myself from laughing in all honesty, thinking about how many times Jesús has failed to escape and how the enemy was not going to win this one. (I later found out that two leaders had had a conversation about whether or not to let Jesús come to me with the note because they’ve had a lot of parents recently who take their child home after the first conversation like this. But, the leader who knows me best told Jesús’ leader, “Let him go. Trust me, she’ll straighten him out. Don’t worry. She won’t take him home.”)

After talking with Jesús, I realized that what was really bothering him was that his roommate (who already completed his year) was leaving to go home. Jesús has been in and out of centers so much in the past who knows how many years that he has had very little sense of stability. Thus, when something changes in his environment or his social group, etc., he freaks out. I wrapped my son up in a tight hug and then told him very firmly that if he decides to throw away his life by going back to the streets, he’s also throwing away me. I said, “Jesús, who do I have here in Honduras? Who is my family? You all! Do you want to abandon me? Do you want to abandon your brothers? Don’t you realize that we need you? Who takes care of me? Who protects me? You do! And you want to abandon me? Who prays for Josuan when he’s crying? Who gives him hugs and encourages him? You do! You’re important to our family. Jesús, you are not negotiable to me. You are MY son. I love you! You belong to God first and then you belong to me because God gave you to me. Tell me what it is that I need to do to fight for you, and I will do it.” This went on repetitively for quite some time until out of nowhere, Jesús said, “I’m sorry, Mami. You’re right. I’m going grab onto the strength I need from God to stay here.” He left to go to his room, and a leader later told me that after our conversation, he went to his room, turned it upside down, cleaned it perfectly, and went to his leaders saying that he wanted them to pray for him and pray for his room. He asked them to forgive him and said that he would never try to escape again because he had made me cry and that hurt his heart. (At no point in our conversation did I cry.) His leaders were so shocked by his sudden change that they didn’t even take away his visit with me as punishment. (Whether or not that’s true that he won’t try to escape again, we’ll see, but if I have to have the same conversation with every single one of my boys every single Sunday, I will do it. As far as I’m concerned, each one of my five WILL FINISH their year.) By the end of the visit, I had Jesús encouraged that his new roommate is going to need him to give him words of encouragement and that he had to take care of Josuan for me. And, he hugged Josuan like a protective big brother and said, “Don’t worry, Mami. I’ll take care of him.”

The other element of this past Sunday was that Josuan’s grandmother went with me to visit him. While I was talking to Jesús, Josuan was talking to her, and the street kid emerged. I knew just from looking at him what they were talking about. Without going into it too much, what I can tell you is that a dangerous adult from his past has been looking for him, contacting his family, etc. And, he’s terrified that this person is going to find him or me and harm one or both of us. He clung to me tightly before the church service (after I’d just finished my episode with Jesús) and cried saying, “Mami, please don’t let anything happen to me. Please, Mami, protect me.” Well, after the episode with Jesús and this new battle and my own few weeks with personal battles, I had absolutely had it. I got very righteously angry because it was so obvious how the enemy was trying to destroy my family. (This is how I know that what God is doing in us and what He’ll do through us is BIG because the enemy has been scared enough since February to throw health issues my way. He’s not going to win.) I texted every Honduran prayer warrior in my phone asking for prayers, and when praise and worship started, Josuan and I already knew how we were going to fight. He and Jesús are both my dancers. From the first note of praise and worship, they’re usually up front dancing. So, the three of us, together, danced with everything we had. (There’s a reason that the story of King Jehoshaphat in 2 Chronicles 20 has always been a favorite.) And, the pastor’s message was about bringing our Goliaths out into the open to be fought in public and defeating our enemies in our spiritual battles. When he called for people who were facing a battle to come up front, Josuan, Jesús, and I were some of the first ones front and center, hugging, crying, and praying for each other. I don’t know what God did in that moment, but something broke for my family.

Later that day, I read in Josuan’s letter from the week the following:
“Today, at night, in the nightly service, we were in a moment of prayer, and the Holy Spirit was in that place (in the church). I started to cry and dance with all of my strength. I prayed so strongly that I couldn’t talk afterwards. And suddenly, I started speaking in tongues. I think God gave me or is starting to give me that gift. Now, I’m going to pray for the gift of interpretation. Well, I felt the desire to pray for Jesús because he was on his knees, and I began to pray for him, encouraging him to continue forward. I told him he wasn’t alone, that he has God and a brother (me) who love him very much. Jesús stood up and started dancing beside me. We had our arms around each other, and I was crying, and he was praying (I think he prays in tongues because there are things he says, and I don’t understand anything). The most impressive part was that Marvin came over and hugged me and was praying, but I didn’t understand what he said. What I do know that is absolutely certain is that when he hugged me, I felt a powerful anointing. I began to cry, thinking that I have a great family—my new brothers that I never had nor ever thought I’d have. . . . And I never thought I’d have a mother as special as you.”
(Can I remind you that this time last year, Marvin had just decided to go to Teen Challenge, Jesús couldn't stand because he was recovering from gunshot/stab wounds, and Josuan was living on the streets and getting high on crack, marijuana, and glue? I serve a BIG GOD!)



My right-hand men, Josuan and Marvin. God is going to give these two the nations.

It has been my desire this entire time to build a sense of family to where my boys can depend on each other and not just on me…that they can pray for one another, love one another, and hold each other accountable. And God is doing that! Josuan and Marvin are my right-hand men, but they also have been my biggest conflict in terms of sibling rivalry and jealousy. To know that they are learning to love one another as brothers (even when I’m not around) is something that only God could have done! So, we have struggles and temptations and moments of weakness, but we are learning to fight as a family because what God has for us is so big, special, and powerful that it’s going to rock the worlds of so many others with radical love.


I have a lot more to announce, but this post is already pretty long. So, I will save the rest of the announcements for the next post. Please keep my family in prayer. God is doing something special with us, but it is a constant fight for our promised land.
Thank you so much for reading, for your prayers, and for your support! We so appreciate it!

All of my love,
Sarah