Rebuilding for the New Year

Monday 27th January 2025

It's been quite a while since my last blog entry. I believe it was before I immersed myself into the whirlwind of Radio Christmas, and so much has unfolded since then.

The Christmas break, which extended into January, was brimming with adventures as we embarked on trips with three visitors from the UK and Moses in tow. This holiday marked a special occasion for Moses: the first proper vacation he had experienced in a long time. A court order granted me custody of him for ten days, allowing us this rare opportunity.

Now a tall and muscular 17-year-old, Moses had eagerly awaited this holiday, meticulously planning every detail over several weeks. Our time with the three volunteers offered a much-needed break from the relentless demands of the ministry, allowing us to savour life's simpler pleasures and giving Moses a chance to start learning how to drive.

Once we returned to the capital, we were all hands on deck as we set about reconnecting with the children and families in the mentoring programme. Our time away recharged us, readying us for the work ahead and reminding us of the importance of these vital relationships.

Our team may be smaller this year, but the excitement for the challenges ahead is palpable. The task of getting 120 children back into school or enrolling newcomers for their first academic adventure is formidable. Our various teams have started crafting plans to reopen the mentoring centres.

I've been particularly eager to hit the streets at night to assess the current situation and understand how those still living on the streets have fared over the last month. Walking through La Terminal to reach "las casitas" (the little houses) was supposed to be a quick trip, but it stretched into nearly two hours as people stopped to talk, some requesting prayers along the way.

Eventually, we reached the dark alleyway where 24 families reside. This place bore the scars of a devastating fire in December that razed it within minutes. Thankfully, all the families were alerted and escaped just in time. Though their material possessions were lost, the most important thing was their lives were spared. The aftermath is now a haunting landscape of charred wood and twisted metal, serving as a stark reminder of the fragility of their circumstances.

Thanks to the incredible generosity of The Forge Church in Suffolk and many others across the UK, we were able to extend immediate support to the families in need. In those critical first days, we provided essentials like food, bedding, and clothing while collaborating with The Door of Hope charity and the municipal government to prioritise rebuilding their homes.

Now, seeing the tangible impact of those donations fills me with gratitude; I recorded a short video thanking everyone who contributed to the appeal. As I walked through the area, the transformation was evident; some of the little houses—home to children in our mentoring program—radiate the warmth and inviting scent of freshly cut pine.

A few homes have even been reconnected with electricity, bringing a sense of comfort and normalcy back to these resilient families. Witnessing their steps toward a brighter future embodying hope and renewal amidst adversity is heartwarming.  WATCH THE VIDEO

Not everyone shared in the newfound sense of hope, as I noticed Carlos trudging up the alleyway, seemingly bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. His demeanour spoke volumes, evoking a deep sadness in me. It was clear that Carlos wasn’t in a good place. Working as a refuse collector meant long, gruelling days throughout the city, and the ingrained dirt on his skin was a testament to those hard hours. It reminded me of a past conversation with him, where he lamented the futility of showering, as the next day always brought the same grime.

Carlos had been on a promising path, having completed a rehabilitation program and initiating better plans for his future. Yet, I knew returning to La Terminal could easily pull him back into the grips of old habits, with street life’s familiar temptations looming large.

I sat with Carlos in his modestly constructed home, a tin shack no larger than 2m x 4m, its sparseness evident. At the far end, he'd fashioned a bed out of plastic boxes, topped with an old metal frame that had somehow survived two devastating fires. Carlos appeared to have surrendered to life's hardships, merely existing from one day to the next. The spark of hope I'd witnessed in him last year seemed extinguished.

His girlfriend had recently given birth to his son, a child Carlos desperately wanted to support and be around, despite her now living with a new boyfriend. The weight of his despair and deepening sense of loss was etched across his face. It was challenging to reach him and instil any hope for the New Year. Yet, I understood that sometimes, just being present was enough.

Ultimately, it was Carlos’s life to live. We can only stand by, offering support and possible solutions. Each individual is responsible for making those "better" life choices.

Walking away from Carlos was heart-wrenching, as every part of me wanted to do more, to somehow make everything better for him. Yet, I knew our journey was far from over; we were destined to encounter more young people ensnared in desperate circumstances, facing overwhelming need, pain, and challenges.

Living and working here, dedicated to these children and young people is truly an honour. Even as many of them are in the transition into early adulthood, our care doesn't wane. It simply means their options may become fewer, making our support all the more crucial in their evolving journey.