I Hate Goodbyes

I knew today would come, but I wish it hadn't. After school today, Abby and I sat down with the teachers here at Lifesong to wrap up our week, and I couldn't get one word out before the tears started. It was interesting, because as I was choking back the tears, the Zambian woman could not look at me. People around here have seen so much death and suffering that they don't cry much anymore and they especially don't see men crying. Abby took over for me, until she started crying, and by that time, I had a little composure, and we finished our time together encouraging them in their important work here.

But saying goodbye to the teachers was only a warm up. What I had really been dreading all week, was the moment I would have to say goodbye to the kids. I'm bad at goodbyes. I often try to avoid them, which is a cowardly thing to do, but they are a part of life. After school we went to the "Compound", the shantytown nearby where almost all of the students live and walked around with Dru and John Mumba and a mob of about twenty kids. I have 50 stories I could tell you from the hour and a half in the "Compound", but right now all I can think about is driving away. I had become especially close to the second graders this week--Ezron, Richard, Haggai, Ngosa, Geoffrey, Martin, Ford, Trever, Dorthy, Jorsam, and Jinny. Though they are only in second grade, they are 10-12 years old, and are the oldest kids at school. In many ways, they are like little adults because they don't have any other choice here. I spent a lot of time with them in the classroom working on phonics, math, and geography, and we also played a good bit of soccer together. There must have been 100 times this week when I looked at that class and wanted to take the whole class home with me. I want to get them up to speed academically. Love them. Laugh with them. Give them opportunity. Share with God's Word. Watch them grow up. I fell in love with that class.

But there we were in the compound. Dru gave them a piece of candy. I rubbed their heads, gave some hugs, and got in the car. Ezron and Martin, who I would adopt as my own sons in an instant if it were possible, could barely look at me. We were tight, and I walked out of their life like dozens of others have done before and I may never see them again on this earth. I love those kids. I mean that.

I got in the car and the tears started flowing. These kids don't have any idea what a loving dad looks like and I'm just one more man walking out of their life. I was angry. I'm still angry. I have so many questions and so few answers. The only thing I know is that I love those kids and that God loves them far more than I do. This world is messed up and some people blame that on God and today I wanted to blame God too. But as I drove away from the Compound, the only bit of hope that I had was that one day, God is going to redeem that place. I'm confused in many ways, but without redemption, I'm lost. Without redemption, none of this makes sense at all.

"For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the alien, giving him food and clothing." Deut. 10:17-18