The last month of my life has been one in which I have been stretched thinner than ever, pulled in a million directions at one time, absolutely exhausted, completely weary, and yet, walking in hope and love that was not mine to begin with, and for this trial, I am so incredibly grateful.
Upon the passing of my roommate Bagheera on December 26, 2012, her daughter was placed into my care for thirty days while decisions were made in regard to her future. Everything was unknown and entirely uncertain. This situation was made more complex due to the fact Bagheera and her daughter were French citizens two months from the hearing that would grant them ten year greencard, despite a troubled marriage with Bagheera's American husband.
Neither one could recognize they are both sinners in need of saving grace and they alone are not the point of the universe. Sounds like most troubled marriages. I haven't been married, but I sure did try to place all the blame on my boyfriend. I watch countless gals at work always place blame on their boyfriends, too. We are never the problem. Never. We are perfect.
Bagheera and I would often talk about things like this and often I would tell her, as I have said to many others, Mother Theresa wouldn't marry Hitler. Like attracts like, and whatever drew her to this man, is more than likely the same trait in every other man she has ever dated -- even the rescue she sought in her daughter's father as she ran from her own past.
As this journey continued to unfold, where lies and truths were being exposed from all sides, I was continually amazed at this child who insisted she wanted nothing more than to stay with me. Over and over from the beginning, that is what she said.
Why? She felt safe.
Many people didn't understand why I was chosen to be her caretaker, especially those close to Bagheera. But there were many factors to this confusing story with many players on three continents. At times, I didn't understand it either, I honestly was the most surprised out of everyone by this, particularly by this little girl's constant declaration she wanted to see no one but me. I couldn't figure it out.
But that was the nature of Bagheera and I's friendship. We had a friendship entirely unique to the other ones she had. In a matter of one statement, I could somehow reach into her and pull out something that would have us in conversation for hours, that would have her checking her heart, and the wrestle with how much control she really had over her life would begin. The first two weeks we lived together we had over ten conversations like this one. Each one of Bagheera's friends served a purpose. Mine was simply different, not better or worse than her others, just different. Sometimes, she would get really mad at me because she'd say I would be the "only one of her friends" who would point out risks rather than pat her on the back to what was easy and fun. I'd simply ask her why that was and let her sort that out. Our relationship was uniquely devastating in a good and productive way; one that always had her asking more questions about the unrest of her soul...the Lord was drawing her to himself.
We did this sober. Entirely sober. This is the one thing her daughter noted about me, why she felt safe with me. I was no alcoholic, and by her words, the only one of her mother's friends that didn't drink. That floored me. I hadn't thought of it that way, never saw that -- but that is one of those details children see, that we are blind to as adults, going about life, doing as we know best, with the tools we've been given.
Bagheera looked at me one night as we closed our conversation around four in the morning and asked, "How do you do it, Hollie?"
My answer was and always has to be Jesus. I have no idea how I had those conversations that were so transformative to her, and at one point had her on the edge of my black and white hounds tooth chairs, crying with her hands in her face declaring how tired she was of fighting and how much she wanted peace... you could see her heart cry for Christ but her mind wouldn't let her open her mouth. I know that feeling. That happened to me the day I was saved.
Apart from Christ's constant grace, I truly cannot say how I went through thirty days of being plugged up to a phone charger, talking to everyone from friends to congressmen and senators, under threat of people coming who I don't know, that Bagheera always said were no good, dealing with government agencies, shocked family members, language barriers, managing a house, moving a house, learning how to set boundaries and not allow my people pleasing self to be a doormat for lost and hurting adults, while caring for the emotional well being of a grieving, angry, and scared child who knows she has absolutely no control over anything that happens to her. She, a thirteen year old girl who just lost everything from her fish to her mother in nothing flat, who has no idea how to cry and is afraid to be angry because she was raised in a culture of earning approval and love, pushing down the bad and keeping to the fluff on the surface that feels good -- like wearing a mask of silliness when you are completely crumbling inside, or watching a tv show so you don't have to feel. I could not allow other people's needs to be put on her shoulders. She had enough to sort out.
These coping methods are by no means bad things. They were the things that kept her mother alive in her youth. Her compartmentalization of her life kept her living, and sadly, in her constant battle to fight for a good life, she taught her daughter to do the same.
This is what we all do. This is our sin against our own children. This is our sin as adults who can't get past what was done to us by others, and our methods of coping carry on to protect us from hurt in our relationships as adults, with adults, even our own children. I am guilty of this too...
But in this, God is at work and is showing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the control you think you have in your life can be obliterated with one phone call. The Lord is in the process of redeeming the life of Bagheera and her daughter. The word I kept getting thoughout this whole saga is legacy.
This is but a small portion of what I had the privilege to endure and learn during January 2013. As I am able I will continue to write, as I can figure how to lay it all out. This one month is enough for an entire book. But the most pressing point I wanted to share was this:
Two weeks ago I sat at church, simply exhausted. It was the last time this child came with me for Recovery at the Village before she was no longer in my care. A song was being sung, and although I swore I wouldn't forget it, I have. As this song was sung, I instantly recalled something I read online. When I reread these words in my mind I hadn't seen since I first saw them months ago, I simply wept at how good God is to prepare me for what's next:
We are looking for men and women to work hard in small churches in difficult situations. There will be small reward, constant confusion and frustration. You will be misunderstood, misrepresented and maligned.
You will receive training and mentoring in an Acts 29 Europe church plant. This will equip you for a life of unknown, unsung, heart-wrenching and often unfruitful ministry. And an undying joy and wonder in the presence of Jesus Christ.
You will be a nobody who has nothing to offer. But you will follow Jesus, and you will know you need nothing else. from Acts 29E
During this month much of what I had planned had to be put on hold because God had something else for me.
It still boggles my mind I was able to walk the Gospel with this girl, ground level, twenty-four-seven, living, giving, and loving beyond my means, depending entirely upon Christ for everything and throwing myself on God's character, because that was the only certainty in this storm. What a blessing it was to love like that...I have no idea if that is the closest to considering adoption I will ever be, but it certainly painted a picture of God's joy and Christ's obedience in His suffering to adopt me as His, and for that I am grateful.
Although I missed January's Re:Train session, I have been invited to finish the year and do what I missed in January 2014. With that being said, the Acts29 Europe conference follows February's Re:train session on Church Leadership and Missiology. God's timing is perfect, and to have the opportunity to immediately leave Re:train to use what I'm learning at a conference on church planting, is just spectacular.
Please visit www.gofundme.com/retrain to see how you can help fill this immediate need.
Thank you to everyone who has been a part of this process, for bathing everyone involved - Believer and Not- in prayer. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that, for continuing to pray, not only for me, but especially this young lady who is being thrown into a sea of uncertainty, that she would trust the only one who can calm the storm.
Into His hands i thse only place anyone can leave her, and His are the best, most capable hands ever.
