Snowball fights and such...

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We just had our first good snowball fight of 2010.  Even though the guys finally clued into ganging up on me, they still weren't very successful.  It's strange...they grew up on the streets, while I grew up in rural Saskatchewan...but I can still pretty much out-fight them everytime.  Well...in snowball fights anyhow.  We haven't gotten around to weapons yet.

Even Maribel (who works here) learned quickly that there are no innocent bystanders in a snowball fight.  Yimy got her first when her back was turned and then blamed it on me.  I fervently denied it, but I don't think she really believed me.  So I hit her with some more snow and told her that one was from me.  Then she threw the remote control from the TV at me.  Ah, Bolivians...they don't really get the concept of a snowball fight.  But *sigh* I try...

As a side note, I actually did introduce the concept of frost-bite here once.  I was icing Andres' leg after a futbol game and kind of forgot about it.  When I remembered, the skin was already starting to turn purple.  I asked him why he didn't move the icepack and if it was hurting.  He said that yes it hurt, but he figured it was supposed to.  The next day he had blisters.

But fortunately I was able to use it as a learning experience and explained that this was what happened to people in Canada in the winter, if they stay outside too much without proper clothing.  He was duly impressed once again with how stupid people must be to want to live in Canada. 

One other note before I leave you.  In my never-ending quest to get into shape (stop laughing...it really is never-ending)...I joined a pool.  I'm not sure if that's how you put it exactly, but basically Jorge (a buddy of mine) and I signed up to go swimming three times a week.  We even bought goggles and those rubber head cover things.  Apparently it's a rule. 

Oh, did I mention what time?

Yea...7 AM.

I went today.  Is that good enough do you think?  I'm thinking it is.  About the third time down the pool it started to stretch out before me like it does in the movies when they want to give the impression that something is really, really far away.  Who knew that actually happens in real life. 

I watched the guy in the next lane put on his rubber head thing (I found out that you really do feel better when everyone has to look like idiots together), and I remember thinking, "Okay, he's old.  At least I won't be the worst one here!" 

So it turns out the old guy was like half dolphin or something.  He was doing that swim that only people in the Olympics know how to do where you swing your arms over your head at the same time and your body half comes out of the water.  It was impressive.  I quietly changed lanes with Jorge while he wasn't paying attention.  Sorry, but I don't want to be in the lane next to the crazy old man who swims like that Phelps guy.

In the end it was mostly kind of fun, and I probably will give it a try again next Friday.  I felt better when I realized I actually wasn't the worst swimmer in the pool.  There was a little old grandma on the other side using one of those floater boards.  Man, she was slow!  I pretty much blew her out of the water. 

Well, thanks for taking the time to read my random thoughts about nothing.  I'll try to post something a little more significant next time.  =) 

Oh...and before a bunch of people write and express amazement and surprise that it snows here...we were defrosting the freezer (which we haven't done in a really long time), so there was lots of frost to make snowballs.  Slightly freezer-burnt smelling snowballs, but still...

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Happy Father's Day?

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We celebrated Father's Day here in Bolivia on Friday.  So today in church they called all the dads up onto the platform to pray for them and give them a little gift.  Of course I was called up to the front as well.  At least this year I was expecting it...not like last year when I blurted out, "What?!" when my name was called.  And then everyone laughed at me. 

I still had a bit of a moment when I was standing there with my hand on the shoulder of my "son" David, who was on the platform as well, since he has a three year old daughter.  I just gave my head a bit of a shake and decided not to do the math.

I'm happy to be here doing what I'm doing, but sometimes the realization that I'm "Dad" to a dozen guys is a bit overwhelming.  I really didn't get any practice time in either.  All of a sudden...BANG...there they were!  And a lot bigger than I was led to believe they were supposed to be.

So anyhow, I got my pen and key chain set (they're really nice) and lots of handshakes and pats on the shoulder and "Felizidades"...congratulations.  Again, not exactly sure for what....it's not like I did anything.  Which is really a whole other topic and one I'm still a bit bitter about.

At any rate, Happy Bolivian Father's Day to you all!  Hope it was a good one...

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The other night...

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Some days this is a sad job. Don’t get me wrong…there are lots of good moments too, things to celebrate. But when you work with wounded people, there’s no getting around the fact that, after you’ve done everything you can, there are times when you just have to step back and watch someone you care about, make destructive decisions.

I had supper last night with a young guy I know. A little over a year ago he moved in here, excited and looking forward to the future. He comes from a very poor family, so the opportunity to study and change the direction of his life was powerful for both him and for his family.

Sadly, it didn’t take long before his past caught up to him. I have no doubt that in his heart he desired to do what was right. But most times he chose what was easiest over what was correct. Without getting into all the details, last summer there came a point where he chose to leave the house. I’m sure he didn’t want to, but he’d painted himself into a corner and didn’t leave himself a lot of options. In the end, he wasn’t willing to own his mistakes. Instead of coming clean and dealing with the consequences (which was what we all desired) he let his pride and fear rule him. And so he left.

Over the past few months, I’ve stayed in contact with him. We go for lunch or supper sometimes, and talk about what’s happening in his life. I hadn’t heard from him in a couple of months, and was wondering what was going on. When he called and asked if we could get together, I could tell something was up.

As it turned out, he’d walked away from where he was working (a restaurant that provided room and board), because of some random girl who was gone before he even knew what had happened. She took pretty much everything he had, and so he’d ended up back on the streets. By last night he was a mess.

I bought him supper and talked to him, but the truth was, I was at a bit of a loss. We’d had this conversation before. There wasn’t anything to say that he didn’t already know. Obviously I didn’t want him going back to the streets, but he couldn’t stay at our house after everything that had happened. So…I offered to drive him to his sister’s place. I could feel a prompting that it was the right thing to do. It was just an unfortunate aside that she lived two hours out of the city. =)

Once we got to his family’s house, we prayed together before he got out of the truck. It was an incredibly sad moment. His family has nothing, they live in a wooden shack with a dirt floor. I know they had a lot of hopes that this fellow would be the one to change their family’s fate. I imagine it was a long walk to the house. He was walking pretty slowly.

On the drive back into the city, I was thinking and praying for this young guy. Obviously, just because I’m at a loss for words or what to do for him, that doesn’t mean that God is. As I prayed, I felt a peace and a joy come over me. I’d like to say that I had a sense that everything would be okay, but it wasn’t like that exactly. It was more of a reminder that this young man’s life was not my responsibility. I don’t mean that in a harsh way. I care for him and feel pain for him…but in the end I have to remember that it’s only through God’s Spirit that change and healing will come. Sometimes I forget that in the rush to figure out what I need to do to help.

Please pray for this guy. I’ve no doubt that he’s dealing with a lot of feelings of guilt and frustration. His life isn’t over of course, but he has a long road ahead of him. I’m going to stay in contact with him, and we’re going to try to help him find a job and hopefully some stability. I think the shock of ended up back on the streets was a strong one, so pray that he’ll continue to be receptive to what God is doing in his life.

Thanks for reading and praying everyone. I’ll be back here soon with some updates on our plans to visit Canada this summer. Keep praying about that as well!

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Ups and Downs...

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UPDATE BELOW

Wow...yesterday was a ridiculous day. I started to write dumb, but that’s not exactly true. It was just incredibly up and down. My eyes are still bouncing (as in every Looney Toons cartoon you’ve ever seen). I guess that’s what happens when you work with a dozen different guys who are all in different places.

Shall we recap then?

The first situation wasn’t any big surprise. Immigration is my second least favourite place to go in Santa Cruz....right after the post office. We were there to get passports for some of the guys, but were told we got there too late and should come back in the afternoon. Fine, whatever.

I can’t really get into the second situation, except to say that someone in the house’s refusal to own up to a dumb decision is making what should be a fairly simple and straightforward problem into something bigger and dumber. It’s very annoying. That situation morphed into another conversation with one of the guys, that was even more frustrating and annoying. There was some lying and stealing involved...it was messy.

So I left the house grumpy and fairly frustrated (as I think I mentioned), to go have coffee with a kid who doesn’t live with us, but who I’m helping with his classes. He’s a good kid and we get together every few weeks or so to see how things are going. It was kind of funny....he witnessed the grumpy conversation in the house and was trying desperately to console me. It made me smile inside. =)  But I’m fairly good at changing directions emotionally, so I was pretty much already fine as we left the house.

Anyhow, this is a kid who, up until recently, has had some fairly significant issues in his life...drugs, drinking...that sort of thing. I’m never quite sure what the conversation is going to be like with him. He has often expressed a lot of doubts and frustrations about God.. That’s a common enough theme here...I guess when enough bad stuff happens in your life it’s easy to start blaming God. I’ve explained to more than a few of the guys that it’s often other people’s bad decisions (and theirs as well) that have contributed so much to the pain they’ve experienced. God is in the healing.

Yesterday’s conversation ricocheted past a number of different topics before we ended up talking about movies, and from movies to documentaries. He told me about a documentary he’d seen about a church in Mexico called the “Exorcism Church” (can you imagine that church back home? The First Church of Exorcism over on Second Avenue...). Anyhow, it was a place where people brought their demon possessed friends and family to be...exorcised. I know nothing about the church, so I’m not going to get into critiquing it here. I just think the name is funny.

My friend wanted to know what I thought about that, so I shared a few perspectives and then told him a little of what happened a couple of weeks ago. I certainly believe that the demonic is real enough, and told him so. But I don’t think it’s something we need to get all riled up about. It’s just something we need to be aware of and deal with it when we need to. Nothing more. Anyhow, he was quiet for a moment, and then he asked if he could tell me something. I said sure (and prepared myself for some “I think I might be demon possessed” confession).

He told me about how one night last week, his brother (who he shares a bedroom with) started moaning and thrashing and crying. He was trying to speak but could mostly only get out a gurgle. Every once in a while he would say something about how “It” was trying to take him. He was punching the walls and his fists were getting all bloody. My friend wasn’t sure what to do (this had never happened before), but then he remembered “all the stuff you kept trying to tell me before” and he started praying and taking spiritual authority over what was happening. He’d never done anything like that before. He’s a kid who mostly focuses on all the bad things he’s done in his past...more so than on what God has done in him since then. There’s a lot of guilt there I think. He certainly doesn’t see himself as someone who could be used by God.

But to his surprise, almost immediately after taking authority over whatever was happening, his brother calmed down and was fine. His brother didn’t remember anything (and couldn’t figure out why his hands were bleeding). All he remembered was being dragged down into a place that was pitch black but filled with people or beings that he couldn’t see. And then all of a sudden he wasn’t there and everything was fine. My friend said his brother made all kinds of promises and commitments to God after that, so I asked if he’d kept them. My friend just shook his head and said, “Not really. You know, he’s sixteen.”

So then I asked what that experience meant for him. We ended up having a great conversation about who he was in Christ, and what that means for him. He was suddenly confronted with some pretty strong evidence that he is, in fact, a Son of God, and that God does, in fact, want to use him. Because of his past, he’s always struggled with that idea.

This kid’s a thinker, so I have no doubt that this won’t be the end of that conversation. He’ll have more things to say and ask. We’re getting together later today to talk some more. So please pray for him when you have a moment.

So...then I dropped him off and headed home, only to find a guy there who I thought had left us to go work. He hadn’t been back to pick up all of his clothes, but we also hadn’t seen or heard from him in nearly two months. He was working over the Christmas holidays and just didn’t come back. We had no way of communicating with him, so we figured he was just going to keep working. I’d already told another kid that he could move in and take over this guy’s place in the house. Only now...this guy wants back in.

It’s easy to say, “Well, he lost that opportunity when he didn’t call for two months!” and that should probably be true. Except that...if we do that, this guy is pretty much lost. He doesn’t have much for family or options. He’s a really good kid who I don’t want to see get lost along the way. He wasn’t trying to be rebellious by not calling...he was just being...dumb.

So today’s chore is to try and figure out how to squeeze another kid into the house. I have an idea, but it depends on one of the other new guys and how he feels about bunk beds...

I still have to go back and revisit that really grumpy situation as well. That means a few more conversations today that I’m not really looking forward to. If you can pray for wisdom and clarity in my thinking, and that the guys involved with stand up and take responsibility for their actions...that would be great.

Thanks everyone. Just another day in the life of a missionary I guess. I imagine this is making up for the day last week when I hung out by the pool, read a book and got sunburned....

UPDATE:

I thought I should let you know that this morning, just after I wrote this, the fellow who was causing much of the frustration yesterday, came into my room and apologized.  We ended up having a good conversation about what happened.  So...there you go.  God is continuing to work...

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Speaking of the Olympics...

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I told the guys that if Canada won the gold medal in hockey, we'd celebrate.  It was the only way I could get them to care.  Of course I also told them that if we lost, one of them would have to die.  And the other eight would have to dig a hole in the back yard for the body.  Fortunately we won. 

Yes, once again...terrible missionary...I know.  No need to comment.  And I'm probably not a very good father figure either.  But I did keep my promise and tonight we celebrated with cake and ice cream and pop...

"Congratulations Canada"

I couldn't find my Canada flag, so my blanket had to do...

I took a while to get organized...

I'm smiling 'cause we won!  The boys are smiling 'cause there's cake.

It's nice my guys are so easily bought...

They actually did acknowledge (for about 15 seconds) on the news today that Canada won the hockey game and the Olympics Sunday night.  After me ranting and raving all day, and trying to explain what had happened over the past week to anyone who would listen, those 15 seconds actually seemed to convince the guys that I wasn't just making it all up. 

"What?  You mean the Winter Olympics actually do exist?!"

"Ken wasn't just making it all up?"

"Canada actually won something?!" 

That last one comes from the fact that since we don't win at soccer, it's hard to imagine we could win at anything.  =)

Anyhow, after those 15 seconds there was lots of congratulations and backslapping and questions of when were we going to celebrate.  For those of you who were wondering, I actually did get to watch the game.  ESPN South America finally decided they should broadcast something from the Olympics...you know, since they were the official Olympic channel here.  It was actually a fairly emotional moment for me.  Not just seeing us win the game (which was amazing...although I almost threw up a little there in the third period), but seeing the ocean of red in the stands and everyone wearing Maple Leafs.  There aren't too many occasions when I get to feel Canadian down here, so it was a good moment.  I was all excited to hear the national anthem, but ESPN hadn't shown soccer in almost two hours and so they cut away to talk about who won a dumb game that no one cared about.  Even still I felt the emotion and the pride of being Canadian! 

Then I went home and mocked all my American friends and family on Facebook.  That was fun too.  =)

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Something to celebrate..other than the Olympics...

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For those of you who know David and know his story, you understand that it's been a challenge for him to think about or plan for the future. He's one of the guys here who spent the majority of his childhood on the streets. Street kids don't think about what's going to happen tomorrow or the next day. They pretty much live in the moment. David has said more than once that he just thought he would end up dying on the streets, so his future was never something he considered.

As well, David (along with a few of the guys here) has always had a hard time pushing through the difficult times, and understanding that God has a plan and purpose for his life. That good things will happen for him. He tends to want to give up easily. Again, something he learned from the streets.

So it was a huge deal for us when he graduated from high school last year. More than a few times I thought he was done with it all and was going to leave. But with a bit of encouragement (ie. lots of late night conversations about God's will for us and the life he wants to live), he managed to keep going. He has the diploma to prove it too...along with his cap and gown that I paid a deposit on and which he "forgot" to return...

Since then, however, the battle has continued. More than a decade on the streets is not easily overcome. There were still more conversations and moments when I thought David was going to give up. But again, he persevered and I'm happy to say is now a university student! We registered him last Friday. =) He'll be studying Psychology at the Evangelical University here in Santa Cruz.

I wasn’t sure we were going to be able to swing it...that university is fairly expensive by our standards. But then we found out that he might be able to get a soccer scholarship. I took him to talk to the coach to see if there might be a chance for David to try out. David’s kind of out of shape (he hasn’t played in awhile), but he’s still pretty good. The coach was kind of non-committal but said that he could try. After the first practice game, the coach looked over at me and gave me the thumbs up! So that was a happy moment. He gets 25% off his tuition now, which brings it into the range (barely) of what we can afford.

Jorge and I were sitting and waiting for him in the registrars office on Friday, and as he finished up the paperwork, he looked over at us and gave us a big smile. I think he was pretty excited too. He teases me sometimes that I’m his dad...he’s the guy that told me “Happy Grandfather’s Day!” last year on Father’s Day (he has a little girl), and I always correct him and tell him that I’m more like a big brother. =) It’s less weird (I’m way to young to be anyone’s father...right?!). Anyhow, as we drove home I was laughing and telling him that “My boy was a university student now!”. That got a smile too. He starts classes next Monday.

As well, we register another new guy, Eduardo (Paceno) for seminary today. We’ll be moving him into the house and getting him set up this afternoon. He’s a guy that we’ve known for a long time. He came and went from the old boy’s home a few times, before he finally settled down. I don’t remember which Christian School team it was (maybe someone can remind me), but we were visiting street kids one year with YWAM down by the old bus terminal downtown and we saw him. Unfortunately he was high, and not that coherent. But I sat there and listened to him share about everything that was happening to him. At the time I didn’t understand much of what he was saying (and in my defence he wasn’t making much sense), so I just kept encouraging him that he needed to get off the streets. When we left, I prayed for him, and I remember wondering what was going to happen to him. I’d always seen amazing potential in this young guy.

A month or so later, he showed up at the home, but he was a mess. Little by little though, he got cleaned up and began to grow into the gifted young guy he was. He felt that God was leading him into ministry, but kind of ended up getting pushed into an education and job that he really didn’t enjoy. I hadn’t seen him for awhile, but six months or so ago we reconnected and started talking about what he’d really like to do with his life. Over and over, he talked about going to seminary and going into some sort of ministry. The problem was, he hadn’t finished high school and was far enough back that there wasn’t much likelihood that he would.

Last week one of our pastors spoke with the director of our denomination’s seminary and explained the situation. Eduardo was given permission to study there, but classes had already started. I was only just able to get a hold of him late last night to let him know, so today we’re scrambling to get him registered and settled here, so he can start classes tomorrow morning. His life is changing very quickly! =)

As most of you know, there are lots of ups and downs here. It makes it worthwhile, though, when you have these kinds of moments. To see the direction of someone’s life change and to know that they have the opportunity to change their circumstances. It’s exciting to see! Pray for these two young guys though. David was telling me this morning that he’s kind of nervous...which is, of course, normal. But for both him and Eduardo there’s the added baggage of where they’ve come from. That still weighs on them. Pray that they will have peace and wisdom, and that they’ll be motivated to study hard! =) That’s going to be a challenge for both of them as well.

Thanks everyone! I’m still planning on posting some pictures of Andres’ and my trip to La Paz...if I can figure out how to get the pictures off my camera... =)

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