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!