Real, Big, Here
On Monday all the kids shuffled in for tutoring. We had a big potluck – with a heavy leaning towards cookies and brownies. Then the kids went to work in the other room, one-on-one with their tutors. After the final seconds trickled out of our hour and a half together adults paired up to take the kids home. I gave hugs to three beautiful sisters – little knowing that they would soon find out that their dad had just left them, their mom and their 5 other siblings.
A few days later they were back at the church for Bible club – but we hadn’t heard a word about it until we were in the midst of taking all the kids home. The three girls were some of the last ones left and as they were helping us sweep up piles of dried macaroni and glitter they whispered their secret. One of the girls asked me to pray for her because she was really hurting. We all gathered around and I prayed for these precious girls – all the while our hearts were breaking. Now we were all aching but we continued to sweep, mop and empty trash bags. Cassie, the oldest of the three, told me that she thought that it was her fault.
I immediately stopped working the broom and told her to look me in the eyes. There was the normal chaos all around us but I wanted her to hear me.
“Cassie – this is not your fault. Adult make their own choices and sometimes it really hurts us. It’s not your fault”
She looked at me and I continued, “Trust me sweetheart – I know these kinds of things. It’s not your fault.” I wanted her to believe my words and trust what I know is true. As the girls left there was hugs all around and I know that any one of the adults standing in that church basement would have taken those girls home in a heartbeat. But we can’t – that’s the ache we bear.
So hours later I was sitting in my bed and I began to cry. It wasn’t just the girls, it was Eddie who got kicked out of his house, Kimmy who’s locked up for assault, Lola is pregnant, Rico can’t contain his emotional trauma, Juan wants his dad to get out of jail and Andrea wants her mom to quit hooking up with men that beat her.
And I sighed out a prayer, “God are you real? Are you big? Are you there?” It wasn’t really a prayer of unbelief or lost faith – just of exhaustion and longing. Then I sat and listened in silence – until I realized that it was anything but quiet. Cars were racing down the busy street, feet away from my bedroom. The trains were blowing their horns in the train yard several blocks away. A big machine was sucking out the asbestos in a quarantined house across the street. My pup was snoring and I could hear the pounding thud of rap music as trucks waited at the stoplight.
I caught my breath and closed my eyes. It was life – all around me. And life is from God…God who is real. God who is big. And God who is here.
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Rev. Amy Beth "A.B." Augustin Barlow
The Third Story, Inc.
(All names and identifying details have been changed to protect anonymity. All pictures are randomly chosen from our ministry and do not reflect the actual individuals in the story.)