in a pickle

Today, again, reminded meof being in Indianapolis; but for an entirely different reason. Working at the mission today and talking with the kids, who are just so amazingly honest, reminded me so much of the children that we worked with in ITI. Children that come from homes broken by drugs, abuse, and helplessness. They share their stories with anyone who will listen and they seem wise beyond their years. There is a worldliness that begins to mask the innocense in their eyes, and it's so evident that sometimes it hurts just a bit.

We took the vans today over to the bay with all the children. I sat next to Julia on the way over, a 10 year-old, beautiful girl who was not so quick to smile. Her eyes judged carefully and slowly and I can tell within minutes that she has plenty of reason not to trust.

I understand, just a little.

Her vulnerability was slightly hidden, but her caution toward me was palpable. It took her awhile to speak, but I must have eventually said something that sparked her, because she opened the flood gates all at once.
She told me that she is the oldest of three - soon to be four - children. Her younger sisters and her youngest brother all live separately from one another. She lives with her "Mim" (her grandmother), after her mother lost all three of the children in a custody battle that occurred as a result of her drug habit. Julia told me all of this and more in painstaking indifference. Terms like "junkie", "addict", and "rehab" slipped so casually from her tongue that it was nothing short of heart breaking.

A lovely contrast to this was to see them all at the bay, playing freely and having a blast. We found a toad and two grasshoppers in the grass. A whole group of the older kids played cards and ultimate frisbee. It's amazing to see these kids' level of trust with us given their circumstances. They gravitate toward us instantly though, regardless of the world having given them plenty of reason not to.

The community center has become a safe haven for them; a place where they can trust and leave behind their vulnerability. It's teaching them such an incredibly valuable lesson. It's teaching me such an incredibly valuable lesson.

They've risen above their circumstances in so many ways and God is extending the grace for them to overcome those circumstances altogether.
I'm not going to lie - it's a little humbling. It's a lot humbling.

I know my life situation is not like theirs. I've not really been exposed to addiction and loss in the same way that they have. My life has not been perfect; the pain of abuse and fear has left quite a lot of damage in its wake, and I have reasons all my own not to trust, but God is extending the same exact grace to me that he is to each and every one of these children. I am no different...

Wow. I guess that really is true.
I keep saying that they are no different, that God sees them as His children too; and in the meantime I tend to forget that the reverse is also true. That I too am no different - still in need of a savior. Still in need of that grace. If they are able to receive grace to rise above, then why not me too?

I know the strength we find when we are young. I know how black and white things are and how easy it is to discern right from wrong. I know that it's not necessarily that things get harder as you get older - it's that you just know a hell of a lot more.