Retying Shoes

We, 14 other Back2Back Ministries interns and I, learned in our trauma training how to understand children who come from hard places. We learned that people who experience trauma use the very back part of their brain, the Amygdala, to respond with excitatory flight, fight or freeze reactions. The kids we serve here in Monterrey, because of their constant need to be alert, are always using their Amygdala. They wonder, for example, if dad will come home, if mom’s boyfriend will be violent, where they will get their next meal, or if they need to care for younger siblings. Living life always in the amygdala severs their brain into a front and a back, making it hard, if not impossible, to use the frontal lobe in their brain. The frontal lobe is responsible for reason, logic, decision making, morals, conscience, regulating emotions, and creativity. So telling a kid who’s been through any kind of trauma to do their homework is not only an unreasonable request, it is an almost impossible one. They don’t know how to access that part of their brain. Kids who come from hard places don’t behave well because they can’t access that part of their brain.

Working with my kids over the last few summers, I have noticed behavioral issues that aren’t normal. Yes, all kids throw tantrums and do not specifically want to share their candy. But kids at Children’s Homes go beyond that when it comes to attitudes, behaviors, and social interaction. It has always hurt me in the past to see kids that I love, that I want to help, and that I want to protect hurting themselves and each other by their behaviors. Now I understand it so much more fully.

The kids react the way they do not because they are inherently worse than other kids. They react because they were taught by experience that their words do not matter, their actions are not seen, their behaviors do not change situations. Dad continues abusing, mom still doesn’t feed them, and grandma still drops them off at the home. So now when they have a need, they cannot process it with their frontal lobe, and they do what experience has taught them: react any way you want to. Any way you can. Any way to get someone to see.

Overtime, with enough hurt, people stop feeling pain. Unfortunately these kids, as numb as they can be, are still reminded of the pain. They are reminded when they go to school and are known as the orphan kid. The kid who comes from a bus with other kids. The kid who wore the same shirt yesterday. They remember when their birthday comes around, and something inside them says, “Isn’t someone supposed to remember? Don’t I celebrate?” They remember when baby brother is crying and they are the only ones who hear. They remember when they are sick, just want a hug, and no one is there to give them one.

As detached, rude, and “bad” they seem, even the worst behavior can’t disguise a broken, confused heart to someone who understands where they are coming from. Outside they might say “I hate you”, or “don’t touch my stuff”. Inside they’re asking “does anyone see me?”, “are all problems my fault?”, “am I loveable?” or “do I even matter?” They say things that they have heard from others...that is their belief system, the lens they see the world. It is exactly what has been invested in them through words and experiences. Words like “you are stupid”, “you won’t amount to anything”, and “you’re just like your father”. Experiences like abuse, neglect, abandonment, and loneliness. At some point, they feel as if they have nothing left inside of them.

                                                                                               

So as they ask those questions, I want to be the one there answering them. I want to be the one who is so privileged to see these kids through Jesus’ eyes as precious, so loved, and beautiful children. I want to be the one who is there to tie a little boy’s shoes every two minutes, even though I know they’ll be untied in another two minutes, if only to communicate that his untied shoes matter to someone. I want to be the one to baby a pathetic scraped knee, not because it is bad and needs medical attention, but because I wonder how many scraped knees that kid has had when no one saw him cry. I want to be the one who holds them when they are sick, even if that means I get sick, because I know how awful it is to be sick alone. I want to be the one to celebrate a lost tooth. I want to make bus rides to school a fun experience, not a dreadful one.

I am so thankful God has given me the opportunity to do exactly that this summer. I know healing doesn’t happen overnight, or in one summer. And that's all I have with them. But when I leave, someone else can pick up where I, and the other interns, left. And the best part is Jesus never leaves. And He loves them so much more than I do; He never stops running after them and taking care of them. While science sees a severed brain, Jesus sees a child made in His image. And He is the perfect healer and restorer. That's more than enough for me.