The New Girl

Her face says it all. She is terrified, untrusting, confused, hungry and dirty. Her cheeks are sunken in and her lips as dry as the desert she just came from.

She couldn't be more than 17. She's a cute girl with straight, long, dark hair. I really know nothing about her, other than she's from Central America and was just picked up with her 19 year old brother.

Why did she come? Where are her parents? What happened to her while she traveled here? How long did she go without food and water? Does she know she's safe now? I know I can't ask her any of these questions right now, so I just smile at her. I can assume there is one question her mind is focused on. "Where is my brother?"

My heart breaks as I imagine and assume the hardships this young women has faced. Clearly, a desperateness must have driven her and her brother to make the long and dangerous journey here. Maybe they were trying to find their parents. Maybe they were escaping gangs or poverty. Perhaps they were hoping for the American Dream. No matter what the reason, the reality is that she is here now. She is alone, scared, most definitely hurting and vulnerable. The question for us is how will we respond to her?

Matthew 25:40

"Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."

Anchor Baby Revolution

I held a one week old baby boy tonight. He is perfectly beautiful and I was instantly in love. He’s just a little guy, weighing in at just over 6 pounds. He has all this hair and likes to pucker his big lips. His name is JJ and he is what many sadly refer to as an “anchor baby”.

You see, his mother is a 15 year old girl from Central America who upon finding out she was pregnant decided to make the dangerous journey to the US. She is an illegal immigrant.

As I was holding JJ I thought about how innocent he is. I thought about how happy he must make Jesus, laying there in his purest form, untouched by the darkness of the world. I thought about what it will be like for him to grow up and the hardships he will surely face being a child of an immigrant.

Then I thought about the new life he must have brought to his mom. This young girl comes from a place infested with violence, poverty and corruption. She has lived more life and seen more devastation in her 15 years than most do in a lifetime.

I hate that many in our country (including far too many in our Church) will never see past the law breaking act of crossing the border to have her baby. I hate that there will be people who think she is manipulative, selfish and wants nothing more than to live off the benefits of having an American Citizen child. Many things will be assumed about her while very few people actually try to get to know her. I hate that many will not see her innocence or her pure intent. I hate that many will not realize how selfless she actually is. I hate that her heroic act of traveling 2000 miles, alone and pregnant, just so that her baby won’t have to worry about being kidnapped and trafficked by the gangs or know what it feels like to slowly starve to death, will go unnoticed.

I don’t want to suggest that anyone who is pregnant should be able to come here and I don’t mean to over emotionalize our current Immigration situation. I simply want to remind us that there are beating hearts behind this issue. There are people like JJ and his mom who want nothing more than to live a life of dignity. I want us to ask ourselves the difficult questions. I want us to see JJ and his mom and think about what it would look like to love them well. I want us to think about the millions more who were not as lucky as JJ. I want us to consider our part in loving those who have crossed our borders while figuring out our role in the transformation that needs to happen in the places people are coming from. This issue calls for more than new policy; it calls for an army of Christians who are ready to fight poverty and corruption with peace and love. As believers, I don’t think we can complain about the drain JJ and his mom might be on our economy while we do nothing to address the reasons they are here in the first place.

Sometimes I feel hopeless because I know we have such a long way to go.

But then I remember who our God is.

I remember that when Jesus looks at JJ and his mom, He does not see an illegal immigrant and her anchor baby. He sees His son and daughter who He loves with all His heart and who He was willing to die for. I can’t help but hope for the kind of revolution that would occur if we were all more like Christ in this way.

My Purple Prayer Bead

There is a large, purple bead by my bed. It was given to me by a 7 year old and it reminds to pray for all of the girls at the shelter.

Tonight, at the shelter, I met a 15 year old girl. This 15 year old was arrested when her youth leader was pulled over (without breaking any traffic laws) while driving her and other students home from youth group. When asked to show ID, the undocumented youth leader could not so the officer preceded to check the IDs of all in the car. Those without proper documentation were apprehended, including this 15 year old. The youth leader was deported and this 15 year old sent to the shelter. She actually praises God that she is in the shelter because she feels she is there for a reason. This 15 year old feels a calling on her life to love those who do not feel loved. She has found joy in the ugliest of situations and is trying to share that joy with the other girls. She is sharing that joy with her new friend, a 14 year old who also lives at the shelter.

This 14 year old is a mom to an almost 2 year old with special needs. She was repeatedly raped and became pregnant at the age of 11. This 14 year old has come to the realization that she is not capable of parenting her son at this time and so has agreed to let him go live with a foster family while she continues to work on her issues and prepare herself to be the mom she wants to be. She has made an extremely difficult and selfless decision. Fortunately, she has found support, purpose, and friendship in a little 7 year old.

Self proclaimed "best friend" of the 14 year old, this 7 year old has managed to create family amongst a bunch of broken, lonely teenage girls. She can make anyone smile and although she misses her parents very much, this 7 year old is very concerned with how the other girls are doing. She sits through our Friday night Bible studies aimed towards teenagers, I think, because she wants to ask for prayer at the end. She wants prayer for all the girls and their cases. She doesn't have much of anything, but she had a purple bead and she told me that she really wanted me to have it.

Three incredible girls that are no doubt changing my life. I believe we need these girls to teach us about Jesus' unending joy and peace, boldness in Christ, selflessness, grace, community, and the power of prayer.

I pray we do not deport them.

For the Love of Soccer

There are few things that make me happier then when things in my life overlap. I love when old friends meet new friends, when my parents come to visit my neighborhood or when friends celebrate holidays with my family. Since the day I started going to the shelter, I kept thinking how awesome it would be for some of my neighbors to come and hang with these kids also. Well my dream has come true in the form of a little indoor soccer league. When my contact at the local immigration shelter asked if I would get together a team of teens to play in a league with the kids from the shelter, I agreed right away! How fun...3 things I love dearly: my teenage neighbors, the kids in the shelter, and soccer! What I didn't expect is the impact this could actually have. When I first approached a small group of boys from our teen center and asked if they would be interested in forming a team, I was surprised at how excited they were. I explained to them a little bit about the kids we will be playing against and shared that this will not be about losing or winning, but about building relationships with the boys that are no different than them, other than their circumstance. I told them this is their opportunity to be apart of something bigger than themselves. It is usually like pulling teeth to get these boys to commit to anything, especially something that is not about them, so I was skeptical about them even showing up.

But they did. Early.

Just about every Sunday over the last month or so, we have woken up to my team knocking on our door about 45 minutes before I told them to come over. I rush to make breakfast and entertain the 12 boys occupying my living room while we wait for our assistant coach Stricker (aka Striker or Bob Bradley) to get there, on time. We load up our mini vans (yes, we own 2 mini vans) and drive our neighborhood team to the local YMCA for some good ol' competitive indoor soccer. But there is something special about what is happening. I find our team asking more and more questions about the boys on the other teams, pointing out when they are "building relationships" and making it a point to slap hands with every other boy before they leave the field. My heart is warmed. This experience has been so special to me on so many levels. I have loved hanging with my assistant coach and seeing his heart for the kids. I have loved spending quality time with the boys from Garnet. I have loved walking through the neighborhood and hearing, "Hi Coach!" I have loved seeing the boys from the shelter NOT think about their complicated immigration cases or the trauma in their lives, even for just the 50 minutes they are on the field. Mostly though, I have loved watching how God is using the love of soccer to draw us all closer to Him. My prayer for this whole thing is that the boys from Garnet will grow a passion to think outside of themselves. I want them to taste God's Kingdom, experience what it is all about, and join in. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I want them to join the fight. I want them to care about their neighbor so deeply that it leads them to do something. I have been reminded of how, although my role in this is to fight for justice for the kids in the shelter, it is just as much my role to invite those around me into that fight. I keep thinking I need to engage the influential pastor's or rich Christians...but I am realizing more and more the power and potential that is within the group of boys on my team.

What a blessing to have two important parts of my life collide in such a beautiful way.

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Freedom

I spent the day with a bunch of boys from our Garnet Teen Center...always an adventure, to say the least. As we were driving home from a day at the beach, one of the boys read the sign as we got on the 405 south...towards San Diego. He said, "I'm not aloud to go there!" I reassured him that we were, in fact, going home and that he had nothing to worry about. Although I chuckled a little when he said that, it also struck me as kind of sad. See this young teen does not have papers...he is "illegal." He recognizes his lack of freedom.

I spent a long time talking to a friend of mine tonight. He is also undocumented and is in the middle of a messy court case trying to legalize his status. He has been in immigration detention for the last 2 years where he had to basically do whatever people told him to do. Now that he is out of custody, he has no idea what to do or how to make choices for himself. He is just waiting for time to pass, is how he explained it to me. He doesn't trust people around him and even more, he does not trust in himself. He has no control over what his future holds, as he is at the mercy of a pretty harsh immigration judge. He knows that even though he is out of custody for the time being, he could be apprehended and deported at any time. He recognizes his lack of freedom.

I have spent the last 4 years working along side a young man from my neighborhood. He came here as a young child but now is 19 and trying to sort out his life. He has some college credits and is planning on continuing, but is struggling to pay for the classes he needs. The words, "What's the point" too often come from his lips as he expresses his frustration with his life. Even if he can find a way to pay for his classes and graduate from college, he can not legally work. He could go back to Mexico but his whole life is here: his family, his community, his girlfriend, his ministry. His memories of Mexico are few and far between. So he stays...hoping for a miracle. In the meantime, he daily recognizes his lack of freedom.

Galations 5:1 It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.

Tonight as I go to bed, my heart is heavy, as it often is after blogging. But tonight, I hold on to Christ's promise and I pray His truth over my beloved friends, with the hope that they can one day recognize the freedom He offers.

No Me Gusta Adios

I have always hated good bye's. The worst kind of good bye's are the ones where you don't know when you will see that person again. Well tonight I had to say a couple seemingly permanent good bye's. I have spent the last month and half getting to know the girls at the shelter and I knew the day would come when some of the girls would leave. It's forbidden for volunteers to exchange personal info with the kids or stay in contact with them after they leave the shelter. I understand and respect the rules, but it still sucks. A couple of the girls are being reunited with family and will be able to finish their court cases outside of custody, while other's are leaving under less exciting circumstances. For those that are going to live with family, it's bittersweet. I know it's so great for them to be in a real home, but the reality that I will never see them again and never know how their case turns out is difficult. For those that don't have family, it is a whole lot of bitter and not anything sweet. They are stepping out, alone, into a world that is pretty much against them. They will have to continue their fight without the comfort of a counselor to help them deal with all the trauma or the security or their pro-bono lawyer to help win their case. There is such a long road ahead for them and it blatantly reminds me of the long road ahead for all of us who have chosen to join them on this journey.

Take M for instance.

M is a little less than 2 weeks away from her 18th birthday. For a kid in Immigration Detention, your 18th birthday is not something you look forward to; a far cry from the average 17 year old's anticipation of freedom. For these kids, it can too often represent the opposite of freedom. M has spent most of her life here in the U.S. Her family migrated here when she was a young child. As she became a teenager, she ended up getting arrested for some minor crime and then turned over to ICE. For one reason or another, her family was not able or willing to sponsor her or take her in, so she stayed in the shelter. Now, on the brink of "adulthood", her options are pretty limited. She can legally no longer stay at the shelter because it's only for minors. She has no family that is willing to let her come live with them. She has no green card to get a job and rent her own place. Her Immigration court case is still pending and now that it will be moved to adult court, the wait time will be longer and the judge harsher. She is virtually alone in an incredibly scary world. The crazy thing is that if she was born here, she would have been put into domestic foster care and would have received at least opportunities for free education after she turned 18. But no, she was born a few hundred miles away from deserving even those rights...or so our laws say. So what will happen to her? Well she will probably go live in a shelter until her case finishes. From there, she will either receive her papers or get deported. If she get's her papers, she can at least get a job and try to make something of her life. If she get's deported...well, then she will go back to a country she doesn't even know. Either way, the road is long and lonely. It's nights like tonight that make me want to buy a big house and fill each room with young people like M. Matt keeps telling me, "One day, Bethany, one day." I know he's right, but for me, "one day" can't get here soon enough.