Ranting and Raving

We stood by the van as the girl ranted at me. Hands were on hips as she roamed around avoiding eye contact; all the while her voice became a little higher pitched as the volume rose. Of course, life was unfair. Of course, I was unfair. I put my nose in everyone else’s business according to her. Everyone is against her; the world is against her.  There was so much drama over an incident so seemingly small.

 

As the picture before me continued to escalate all I could do is take a deep breath and say a prayer. This was the moment that I hoped the wisdom from the very mouth of God would find its way from my mouth to her heart. Instead she continued to scream, until it finally seceded with the vow that she would never come to program again. We both knew that I would see her on Monday. We both knew that this tantrum had absolutely nothing to do with the actual episode that had occurred. This was entirely, because she had no desire to go home at the end of the day.

 

I have witnessed this sight so many times before. An amazing day with a group of kids from the city comes apart at the seams just as they are about to head home. As we peer on with our fleshly eyes it seems as if it is just about putting out fires. However, I believe if we were to look with our spiritual eyes we would see scared, hurting children who are taking control as they head back into their volatile lives. For a few hours, they have felt safe to just let down and now they are walking back into the chaos. Therefore, often they need to do whatever it will take to take control before they go back to a life that feels a little too much like prison.  All of a sudden heads are rolling and you don’t have any clue why. I believe this is because they feel the wind knocked out of them before they even set foot through the door.

 

Driving home later that evening I found myself contemplating the day and all that had occurred. My heart was heavy as I pondered the day. A key volunteers cell phone had been stolen; fights had erupted and have course the yelling. Young children who are spending so much time in survival mode. I think what hurt the most however, is that they believe that is the place they have to stay. Yet, I smiled as I thought of the simple fun we had that day eating hamburgers, running relay races and playing football on a very dank, cold and grey day.  As if to prove my point, a simple reality hit me.

 

Over the course of the day there were little to no complaints about the weather. Since the children were on Christmas vacation we has decided to hold five-hour day camps for 2 days. This was the second day we spent outside, and all participants did so willingly. It was not a nice day at all. The wind whipped us. The rain spit at us. We could not get warm.  Yet, only one person in two days of this weather asked to go home early.

 

The Lord uses these moments to remind me why I keep going back.  I am compelled to continue bringing the love of Christ to this generation. The words of 1 John 3:18 haunt me, “Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.”

 

When I give up and give in to my own defeat then I have forgotten what the Lord has called us to do. I cannot merely tell these children I love them, I have to show them. No matter how often I get yelled at, I cannot take it personally. For they are not yelling at me, it is their own lives that they yell at. The unfairness of it all. If I am to love in action AND in truth, then I can’t go anywhere until the Lord tells me to. Until then the girl in the parking lot and I both find comfort in knowing, we will both be back at program come Monday.