Today I sat in a funeral for a 7 year old boy; that in and of itself was pretty awful. But compounded on top of that was the fact that he was gone because his 13 year brother accidentally shot him as they found and played with a gun in the garage. During this past school year I've gotten to know the 13 year old boy pretty well through work. When I heard the news, my heart broke, and I just wanted to wrap him (and his 12 year old brother) in a huge hug. A week and a half has transpired, and he's been on my heart in prayer every day; all day long.
There's a lot of times in my job when I wonder whether what we are doing here in the inner city is 'worth' the massive life investment we've all made. You see, tragic things like this happen often in the lives of the students I work with. Some of it resulting from choices they make, but the majority is just really crappy, sad life stuff: sexual abuse, both parents in jail, etc. I often get a picture in my mind of a scales. We are dropping Truth, hope, love, and good (as in God being the definition of this) into one side, but the odds are most definitely not in our favor. You see, for every hour a child spends with us, they spend 23 in another environment. One that often is filled with lies, despair, pain, and bad things. To counter balance the scale would take an act of God! And truly that's what we cry out for each day; that is our only hope!
As I watched the family file into the sanctuary, the boys lost it when they reached the front where the open casket was. Uncontainable sobs filled the room and my heart. Again, the desire to wrap them in a never ending hug filled my heart. I know I can't 'fix' it or even protect them in any way, but I guess that's the 'motherly' instinct inside me! I thought the pastor did an okay job given the situation, and I pray God's truth reaches into the hearts of the hurting, confused family. But all too soon it was over. The family filed out to drive over to the grave, and the boys were gone again. As the room emptied, I made my way outside, eagerly scanning the crowd for my young friend. I finally laid eyes upon him, and 'willed' him to look my way. A minute later he did, and what happened is a moment that I buried as treasure into my heart. A 13 year old boy is hard to understand or predict what he'll do. One time you see them they're excited, the next they are embarrassed to acknowledge knowing you. So, especially given the circumstances, I wasn't sure what to expect. But when he saw me his eyes lit up, and he flashed his braces in a wide grin. Nudging his brother, he said: "Look", and walked over to me and my co-workers. As he walked into my hug, I wanted to cry. I know full well that my hug was probably mostly selfish, but he let me hold him long enough for my shirt to later smell of his cologne and for me to say how I'd been missing him.
That was it. He was gone after a few minutes, but I'm very thankful to God for that sweet moment. You see, for a boy's eyes to light up in such a situation means he feels loved, accepted, and welcome- all things that I daily hope my kids feel and see as from God in me. It was a small, simple moment, but it felt weighty. It was as if God, in the midst of a difficult season, said to my heart: "Hey, We are making a difference here in this community! Keep pressing onward, my daughter, keep going.." And that was what I was needing today!
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