Tonight

I have mentioned many times that I am involved with a home for abused and neglected children in our area. Because I am chairman of their board, most of my involvement is limited to meetings and fund raising. My favorite part, however, is being with the girls who live there. Being a Mom has complicated my ability to be in relationship with the girls--largely because the residents are in school the hours I am available. When they are home, so are my own children. Also, due to the transient nature of many of our residents, you never know if a girl will be there a week of 5 years. Not to mention, teen girls from the tragic backgrounds many of these girls have experienced are generally a little hesitant to open themselves up to new relationships.

A couple of years ago I led a Bible Study at the home one evening a week, but life got very busy with other commitments and I could not in good conscience continue to spend that evening away from home weekly. Recently, I have felt a strong leading to start that study up again. I have no other nightly commitments and I figured out a way to do it at 8pm so I could kiss the children goodnight before running out to the home.

Tonight was the night! All but one of my old group has long since moved on, so I was walking into a group I did not know very well. I am 34, but I am still intimidated by high school girls. I have been praying for weeks about what material to cover with them (one of the reasons I have been buying so many books). Yesterday, I finally felt peace in just using tonight to share my testimony and ask them what types of things they wanted to discuss in coming weeks.

When I walked into the home I saw J., who I know well and beelined towards her. I joined her as she ate sunflower seeds at the kitchen table with three other girls, only one of whom I know by name. I noticed K.'s arms immediately. Clad in a tank top, it was easy to see the various messages and designs she had carved into her dark, lean body. When I asked her about them she proudly explained the process she used involving a needle, blood and scar tissue. She was testing me and I knew it.

Another girl at the table mentioned that she was planning to join us in Bible Study, but wanted to make sure I wasn't 'judgmental like the other lady' who told them Bi's couldn't go to heaven. Then it was time to get started. We adjourned to the playroom and the questions kept coming. When I asked them what they would like to discuss I received the following responses: "Why are we here in this life? Why is my life the way it is? Does God really listen when I pray? Why doesn't He answer me? Do we have to obey our parents when what they want us to do is wrong? Will God let child molesters go to Heaven?"

I shared my testimony--many parts I have not and will not blog about for privacy reasons--concluding with the point that we ALL have our stuff. I assured them that although all of our stories are different and I have never experienced the pain of incarcerated parents or abuse, I have definitely felt let down, abandoned, lonely, sad, afraid, victimized, unknown, lost. I have longed to be truly known and deeply loved.

And they were hanging on every word. Especially when I read this with their names inserted.

Then J. said, "I believe in God. I really do. I just don't understand why it has to be so complicated. There are so many rules in the Bible. I cannot understand it all. Wouldn't it be great to just know you could go to heaven?"

And right there, on the playroom floor, I had the honor of sharing the beautiful, simple truth of the Gospel with J., who has never met her father and who has watched her Mom do heavy drugs in her home for years. S. & J. whose father is in prison and whose mother is mentally ill and unable to care for them were listening intently. Even K., who had earlier admitted that she has 'done 10 dudes' some as old as 28, seemed to be tracking right along.

Then she giggled and said, "I mean, this sounds dumb, but how do you pray, anyway? I have tried, but I don't know what I am supposed to say." Sound familiar? I have been there!

As I left tonight I could not help but spend my whole drive home thanking God that He has allowed me to experience this first hand. People have asked me how I can be involved with such tragic stories...and the truth is that most of the time I get to know the girls without researching their stories. I am learning more and more that although the details of our stories may differ, our hearts really are the same.

I covet your prayers for these girls. Life has shown them so much of the hurt this world holds, making them hesitant to trust a God that they fear allowed it all to happen. I cannot 'do' anything without the Holy Spirit. I am not a Biblical scholar, a Christian apologist, a licensed therapist or even a particularly hip and relevant 34 year old. I am just a boring housewife in work out clothes who shows up and is willing to be used by God. Apparently that counts for something.