On Friday, I led one of my favorite worship experiences of my life. Our band consisted of Josh (guitar and some vox), his brother Andrew (drums), me (vox and guitar), and Marysol (killer harmonies), one of the caretakers for the girls. All the Bernabe kids and the Spring Branch Nicaragua team came out to the auditorium to worship with us.
Though it was in Spanish, I've never enjoyed singing live this much. It was definitely the most rock & roll (verging on heavy!) set I've played, which I think was a product of playing with an incredibly passionate, on fire team. At one point, I played Enseñame A Amar on acoustic guitar, and after I explained the lyrics to Spring Branch, it was a beautiful thing to hear Nicaraguan and American voices begging God to teach them to love like he does.
Anyways, I can't wait to lead again this Friday night, and I'm so blessed to get to praise God with such a talented group of people.
Now, I need to say something that may be a little uncomfortable to hear.
Last year, with my school, I met six kids from a home for girls, Casa Belen. I have a little sister (that I love very much) who was once an orphan in Nicaragua, and due to the similarities of the cases, I quickly became protective and what I guess you could call paternal to the Belen girls. I looked at it like this: they didn't have a male figure in their life, so wasn't it my duty to become that for them?
Before I left for the States, I was overwhelmed by the crying of these girls I thought I'd developed such a bond with. "I'll be back," I promised. When I got home, I wrote them a note from their "Uncle" (that's what they called me), telling them how much I loved them and how I looked forward to seeing them again.
You may be surprised, but there are few decisions I regret as much as those above. I promise to explain.
Last night, one of the younger kids in La Posada asked me to help him learn some English. Naturally, I jumped at the chance. It started out with some basic words, like "goodbye" and "I love you". He told me they were from a girl from a team that had come for a week; she'd sent him a letter.
I suddenly realized this may be a lot more than some translating. Something God has been teaching me since my experiences with the Belen girls is about attachment issues and boundaries with the kids we minister to. Many missions trips focus on spending time with kids from various orphanages and refuge homes.
The reason I regret my actions with the Belen girls is that I never came back. I never saw them again. I was with them for two weeks, in which they began to treat me like a big brother/fatherly figure. I'm very protective and loving to my little sister, and these girls were in a very similar situation to what my sister had been in. So I was protective and loving to these six girls.
I promised them I'd come back to them. I never did.
I want you to think about something. Think about your typical (if that term can be used) kid in an orphanage. Obviously, they don't live with their parents. Most likely, it's because they weren't wanted or couldn't be taken care of. I'm very blessed to have two awesome parents who provide for me, love me, and teach me a ton about everything. Kids are born with the need for that affection and that teaching. And these kids have been abandoned, for whatever reason.
This is the tricky part. When you come on a missions trip and play with some kids, you may feel like you're developing a bond with a couple of them. Because of the amount of time you spend with them, they may begin to look to you for affection, as they used to with their parents. So while you're with them, you take on this responsibility of being around them and looking out for them. And then, even though you may have hugged them countless times, told them you love them, made them laugh, you leave them. And it hurts you. Because you may be gone forever. And even though you may return, you will have to leave them again.
I assure you that when you leave them, it hurts them more than it hurts you. Not because they love you, but because you left. Just like their parents.
That's what I did to six little girls who had already been through hell.
This kid I'm telling you about, I read the letter that was sent to him. The girl told him God had put them in each other's lives for a reason (which is honestly quite possible), but then took it further by talking about their relationship as if there was a bond. Though she knew him for a week, she spoke to him like they had a very, very close relationship. Like I thought I did with the Belen girls.
He told me she was coming back August 9th. And he wanted me to help him translate some stuff to say to her. He wrote a sentence down, and as I translated it, my heart seized up.
"I want to be with you forever and never leave you."
Wow.
I stared as he wrote again. I could hardly bring myself to lift the pen this time.
"I love you with all of my heart and my soul."
Before this trip, I regretted my actions with the Belen girls because I broke a promise. But I never expected how firmly kids may cling to our words. This boy is practically counting down the days till the girl returns. The one person who has showed this much interest in him; though he knew her only for a week, she treated him like a mother. Now, in his mind, he needs her.
I found out something that night, from a friend of the girl's. The boy has his information mixed up. The girl is coming back to Nicaragua August 9th. But not to Casa Bernabe. Not to him.
The person he loves with all his heart and soul isn't coming. I don't blame her for this, because if she did come, she'd have to leave again. Which honestly makes perfect sense, missions teams come and leave.
The girl's friend told me to tell the boy to write a letter back to her. If he did, I could give it to her and she could take it with her. All I'd have to do is get it to her before tomorrow morning, when she leaves for the States.
That night, yesterday, I made a decision. I didn't tell the boy to write back a letter. I'm not telling him his friend isn't coming until her friend leaves, so I guess tomorrow or Tuesday afternoon. Because I know that this girl, who seems like an awesome, well-meaning person, will never be what he expects her to be. He wants her to never leave him; even if she came, she would have to.
And I know that though it may break his heart when I tell him she's not coming, I can't let him keep this "relationship" going. Because even worse than hopelessness is false hope. And that is what he has. False hope that this girl, who spoke to him in such an intimate way, will fill the gap of the provider that he needs. Unless she were to adopt him (and she won't, she knew him for a week), she will NOT fill that gap.
And I will NOT let him keep thinking she will.
Why am I sharing this with you? Because for those of you who have been on missions trips, you probably can relate to how I felt to the Belen girls. But it is NOT our job to act like these childrens' providers. Josh told me something interesting: "It's kind of rude for Americans to think they need to love on these kids, because that's what their caretakers are already sacrificing everything to do."
Before you go on your next missions trip, think of something. Why am I going? And will what I'm doing really help?
What's going on with this boy is crazy to me. I think a lot of us feel like we have this bond with the kids we're ministering to. But look at his case! And look at what you can offer! We can't fill the hole in the kids' hearts for parenting; what's scary is we may make it larger.
My words may seem offensive. They probably do, they did to me as I was first understanding this. But this is something we need to understand. When you are going on a missions trip, why are you going? Be careful. Be so so careful that you're actually helping, not hurting.
This kid's story is not a rare one. He's not just a special case.
So how should we act to these kids? Honestly, the way many trips are run throw you into constant situations of playing with them. I'm not the biggest fan of these, because that kind of confuses me about the "mission" part of the missions trip. I suppose there are many reasons for missions trips to poor countries, but I think that at the core the mission should be to come alongside the impoverished and empower them to escape their poverty. To give them what my friend James Belt calls "spiritual and tangible hope".
To avoid this attachment issue, choose your trip wisely. When choosing, focus strongly on your reason/what you want to accomplish. If your situation still puts you in constant contact with orphans, remember who you are. You're there a limited period of time. You're not their parent, their uncle/aunt, their big brother/sister. If you want to help these kids, don't give them temporary happiness. Give them joy. Share the gospel. In reality, that is what changes lives, communities, countries.
Yes, these kids need love. No, we can't fill that. But I know someone who can. I have a Father who can. Point these kids to him. Then, they will never have to be empty again.
Enseñame a Amar
Mark Rodriguez
