A middle finger, a forceful push, a threatening fist, a strong slur. Why should I be surprised? This cute-as-a-button, chubby cheeked child had to find some sort of leverage to survive on the streets. Vulnerability is not prized amongst knife-pullers.
Our kids enter our doors as survivors. How else do you get by on the streets? A street kid needs food just like the rest of us--so he learns to beg, manipulate, lie, and rob. He needs shelter--so he hides. He needs love--so he goes after it in all the wrong places. But surviving and living are not the same thing...
"Here, take this," Michael pulls a small wad of cash out of his pocket to give to eleven-year old Marco. "Kelsey can take you to buy something at the pulperia."
I swing by the Micah house to let the head of the education department know that I have found (or rather, have been found by) her missing student. "Marco has some anxiety," I repeat Michael's compassionate reminder and tell her that I am taking him to one of the little snack shops next door.
As Marco takes my key to unlock the gated entrance, he turns to me, "You're going to buy me a fresco right?" (Translation: I keep Michael's money, you pay for my pop.*). I remind him that Michael already gave him money, but he is insistent, "You owe me one remember? From a loooooong time ago."
I know exactly what he is referring to. Well over a month ago our second youngest of the house, 14 year-old-yet-child-hearted as ever Noe, invented some sort of ping-pong ball across the room into a bucket game where if they won I was supposed to buy them a treat. Marco didn't exactly come close to completing the challenge, but I promised that Noe's winnings would cover them both.
Though I am pretty positive I already 'paid-up,' I agree anyway and pay for his Canada Dry. (But not without a quick lesson.)
"What is money for, Marco?"
"Food," he answers immediately.
"Okay, so what if you knew that all your food was already taken care of?" I ask. "What would your money be for then?"
He shrugs.
"What if you use that money you have there to get someone else a little something?" I suggest, pointing to his slightly bulging pocket. "I'm here to take care of your needs. So what if you use that money that you have to take care of someone else's?"
He thinks about it, but decides against it.
I smile and affirm, "It's your decision. But just so you know, it was way more fun for me to buy you a pop than one for myself. I want you to have the joy of that, too."
Upon returning, Marco and I play a round of Skip-Bo (a much-loved card game around here). I notice that Marco is hoarding all of his cards... but you can only ever have five in your hand. His hoarding is keeping him from winning. He's stuck.
"If you don't use your cards, you'll never win," I say. "That's what they're there for--to play them. Just like the money you have. Michael gave you that money to use it."
Eventually Marco notices that how--save as he might--I'm totally owning him. Finally, he lets me help him to release his tightly-clutched wild cards. Slowly but surely, Marco catches on and ends up winning the game (with only a small amount of cheating on his part).
Surviving and living aren't the same thing. Marco is learning this, and so am I. So are we. We are born into a dog-eat-dog survivor game (from our perspective). God knows this, and yet that is not how he created us or this world. God doesn't want us to simply survive. He wants us to live. And so, God gave us the law: don't steal, don't lie, don't commit adultery... Ironically, all of the street-survival tactics I see day after day. Street-tactics that come out of a heart that doesn't know it is already cared for. And yet, without knowing the Father's heart, humanity quickly turned God's good law into another survival strategy attempting to earn our way into God's good graces--lest we get knifed by him or by others. Pharisees who clean the outside of the cup, but inwardly are still dirty... Filled with mistrust and fear. "Good person" survival strategy works to an extent to get by here in this world, but it can never offer life
Jesus said that he didn't come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. To him, the law wasn't some sort of survival strategy but rather the natural outcome of a life of faith in God. Jesus tells us, "don't be anxious about what you eat or drink..." If we know that God's got our daily bread under control--(or better yet: that Jesus endured 40 days of fasting because he knew that "man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God")--why would we ever feel the need to steal? Instead, we are freed up to give--generously! "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." How would we ever be able to love like that? Unless, of course, we were loved like that first. And we were.
The Son of God lived a perfect life because he trusted himself wholly to his Father--proving to us that we can trust Him, too. He wants us to live not just survive. He wants us to be able to look up and out instead of in--where we will only to find a black hole of navel-gazing perceived personal-betterment. Jesus wants us to be able to love--the only way we can finally live. And the only way we will ever be able to find that life is when we know that our Good Father, who not only has the power to provide for us but will and wants to... in every way. And nothing, no not even pain and death, can separate us from his love and care. Jesus showed us that, too.
*Translation of the translation: pop is another term for soda/coke. ;)
Our kids enter our doors as survivors. How else do you get by on the streets? A street kid needs food just like the rest of us--so he learns to beg, manipulate, lie, and rob. He needs shelter--so he hides. He needs love--so he goes after it in all the wrong places. But surviving and living are not the same thing...
"Here, take this," Michael pulls a small wad of cash out of his pocket to give to eleven-year old Marco. "Kelsey can take you to buy something at the pulperia."
I swing by the Micah house to let the head of the education department know that I have found (or rather, have been found by) her missing student. "Marco has some anxiety," I repeat Michael's compassionate reminder and tell her that I am taking him to one of the little snack shops next door.
As Marco takes my key to unlock the gated entrance, he turns to me, "You're going to buy me a fresco right?" (Translation: I keep Michael's money, you pay for my pop.*). I remind him that Michael already gave him money, but he is insistent, "You owe me one remember? From a loooooong time ago."
I know exactly what he is referring to. Well over a month ago our second youngest of the house, 14 year-old-yet-child-hearted as ever Noe, invented some sort of ping-pong ball across the room into a bucket game where if they won I was supposed to buy them a treat. Marco didn't exactly come close to completing the challenge, but I promised that Noe's winnings would cover them both.
Though I am pretty positive I already 'paid-up,' I agree anyway and pay for his Canada Dry. (But not without a quick lesson.)
"What is money for, Marco?"
"Food," he answers immediately.
"Okay, so what if you knew that all your food was already taken care of?" I ask. "What would your money be for then?"
He shrugs.
"What if you use that money you have there to get someone else a little something?" I suggest, pointing to his slightly bulging pocket. "I'm here to take care of your needs. So what if you use that money that you have to take care of someone else's?"
He thinks about it, but decides against it.
I smile and affirm, "It's your decision. But just so you know, it was way more fun for me to buy you a pop than one for myself. I want you to have the joy of that, too."
Upon returning, Marco and I play a round of Skip-Bo (a much-loved card game around here). I notice that Marco is hoarding all of his cards... but you can only ever have five in your hand. His hoarding is keeping him from winning. He's stuck.
"If you don't use your cards, you'll never win," I say. "That's what they're there for--to play them. Just like the money you have. Michael gave you that money to use it."
Eventually Marco notices that how--save as he might--I'm totally owning him. Finally, he lets me help him to release his tightly-clutched wild cards. Slowly but surely, Marco catches on and ends up winning the game (with only a small amount of cheating on his part).
Surviving and living aren't the same thing. Marco is learning this, and so am I. So are we. We are born into a dog-eat-dog survivor game (from our perspective). God knows this, and yet that is not how he created us or this world. God doesn't want us to simply survive. He wants us to live. And so, God gave us the law: don't steal, don't lie, don't commit adultery... Ironically, all of the street-survival tactics I see day after day. Street-tactics that come out of a heart that doesn't know it is already cared for. And yet, without knowing the Father's heart, humanity quickly turned God's good law into another survival strategy attempting to earn our way into God's good graces--lest we get knifed by him or by others. Pharisees who clean the outside of the cup, but inwardly are still dirty... Filled with mistrust and fear. "Good person" survival strategy works to an extent to get by here in this world, but it can never offer life
Jesus said that he didn't come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. To him, the law wasn't some sort of survival strategy but rather the natural outcome of a life of faith in God. Jesus tells us, "don't be anxious about what you eat or drink..." If we know that God's got our daily bread under control--(or better yet: that Jesus endured 40 days of fasting because he knew that "man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God")--why would we ever feel the need to steal? Instead, we are freed up to give--generously! "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." How would we ever be able to love like that? Unless, of course, we were loved like that first. And we were.
The Son of God lived a perfect life because he trusted himself wholly to his Father--proving to us that we can trust Him, too. He wants us to live not just survive. He wants us to be able to look up and out instead of in--where we will only to find a black hole of navel-gazing perceived personal-betterment. Jesus wants us to be able to love--the only way we can finally live. And the only way we will ever be able to find that life is when we know that our Good Father, who not only has the power to provide for us but will and wants to... in every way. And nothing, no not even pain and death, can separate us from his love and care. Jesus showed us that, too.
*Translation of the translation: pop is another term for soda/coke. ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment