I wrote a post back in June about my being heartbroken about leaving the USA and moving to Africa. Today I am heartbroken about the opposite; leaving Africa and moving back to the USA. Don't worry, I am not aimlessly crying about leaving; I still have 6 weeks left here! You see, during this week I am saying "goodbye" to most of the boys at Umuryango, since they are going home to visit family. These boys have meant so much to me, especially over the past 4 months, as I have had the privilege of pouring in to their lives, and letting them pour in to mine. School is out and it is a holiday for them. They will not be returning until Dec 20 or so, which is after I leave to go home. So, I said bye to two of them on Saturday, three yesterday, ten today, and there will be more as the week progresses. Today I sat and watched as they got ready to leave.
Before I left the house this morning I told Theresa that I was going to purposefully "turn off my emotions today." I didn't want to deal with the sadness. I got to Umuryango and was good for some time, not thinking about saying goodbye. The boys were so excited; they washed their clothes and sneakers, packed their bags, and collected their taxi money. But then I began thinking of the ones specifically leaving today, and the rivers flowed! I bawled and bawled and bawled. I couldn't stop and no one could say anything to console me. Sure, I was sad that I wouldn't see these boys until I return to Rwanda next year; I was crying for deeper reasons.
I am so deeply proud of how far these boys have come. They have risen above the odds for Rwandan streetkids. For example, look at Rutaganda. He came from the streets of Gitarama last year. Now he is first place in his class and is an extremely bright and creative boy. Jean Pierre - he is in his first year of secondary school and was chosen to be chief of his dorm. Siliac - he was once a wild and very badly behaved young boy, but has turned in to an incredibly sweet and obedient one. They all have stories of victory and positive change like these.
I was also crying because I realized how important it has been for me developmentally to be part of Umuryango. When I came to Rwanda last year and met these boys, well, 13 of them, I was in a very broken place. My marriage of nine years had just ended shortly before and I was having an identity crisis. Getting involved with Umuryango gave me purpose and passion and drive, which I desperately had needed at that time.
As I said before these boys are leaving to visit their families. Yes, they have families. They have mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers. Yet, they had chosen to leave their homes to start a life on the street. They each have their reasons; valid, real, understandable reasons. The fact that they had left their families does not mean they don't love them. That became very clear as I watched their excitement as they prepared to see them. They miss them very much. I could not stop wondering what each of their experiences will be at their homes. Will there be enough food for them to eat, will they get abused like they had been before, will they choose to stay with their families or the streets and not return to Umuryango? These are all valid possibilities and I shutter to think what hardships they will be enduring.
As I sat in the back courtyard and cried, the boys tried to make me feel better. It was so sweet. A bunch of them came over and sat next to me, telling me "no problem", "it's OK". Emmanuel just plain out insisted "stop". Lamazani, who is not very touchy-feely at all, came and sat on my lap and we cuddled. I enjoyed seeing this side of them, which isn't often because I am not usually a crying train wreck in front of them.
My tears today were largely out of thankfulness and gratitude to God, who has worked wonders in my life and in the lives of these 27 boys. It is my hope and prayer that they will all understand how deep the Father's love for them is and walk towards it. The boys all hold a special place in my heart and I look forward to the day I get to see them when I return.
Before I left the house this morning I told Theresa that I was going to purposefully "turn off my emotions today." I didn't want to deal with the sadness. I got to Umuryango and was good for some time, not thinking about saying goodbye. The boys were so excited; they washed their clothes and sneakers, packed their bags, and collected their taxi money. But then I began thinking of the ones specifically leaving today, and the rivers flowed! I bawled and bawled and bawled. I couldn't stop and no one could say anything to console me. Sure, I was sad that I wouldn't see these boys until I return to Rwanda next year; I was crying for deeper reasons.
I am so deeply proud of how far these boys have come. They have risen above the odds for Rwandan streetkids. For example, look at Rutaganda. He came from the streets of Gitarama last year. Now he is first place in his class and is an extremely bright and creative boy. Jean Pierre - he is in his first year of secondary school and was chosen to be chief of his dorm. Siliac - he was once a wild and very badly behaved young boy, but has turned in to an incredibly sweet and obedient one. They all have stories of victory and positive change like these.
I was also crying because I realized how important it has been for me developmentally to be part of Umuryango. When I came to Rwanda last year and met these boys, well, 13 of them, I was in a very broken place. My marriage of nine years had just ended shortly before and I was having an identity crisis. Getting involved with Umuryango gave me purpose and passion and drive, which I desperately had needed at that time.
As I said before these boys are leaving to visit their families. Yes, they have families. They have mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers. Yet, they had chosen to leave their homes to start a life on the street. They each have their reasons; valid, real, understandable reasons. The fact that they had left their families does not mean they don't love them. That became very clear as I watched their excitement as they prepared to see them. They miss them very much. I could not stop wondering what each of their experiences will be at their homes. Will there be enough food for them to eat, will they get abused like they had been before, will they choose to stay with their families or the streets and not return to Umuryango? These are all valid possibilities and I shutter to think what hardships they will be enduring.
As I sat in the back courtyard and cried, the boys tried to make me feel better. It was so sweet. A bunch of them came over and sat next to me, telling me "no problem", "it's OK". Emmanuel just plain out insisted "stop". Lamazani, who is not very touchy-feely at all, came and sat on my lap and we cuddled. I enjoyed seeing this side of them, which isn't often because I am not usually a crying train wreck in front of them.
My tears today were largely out of thankfulness and gratitude to God, who has worked wonders in my life and in the lives of these 27 boys. It is my hope and prayer that they will all understand how deep the Father's love for them is and walk towards it. The boys all hold a special place in my heart and I look forward to the day I get to see them when I return.
2 comments:
God has certainly given you a special heart of compassion and strength. I don't think my heart and mind could endure what you experience over there. God bless.
mathew,Thanks for the good work you're doing to save the lives of many street kids in Rwanda
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