Burning Furnace of Charity

Today was one of those days in Boys Town...one of those days you don't get very often, but you certainly hold onto for a long, long time. Truth be told, the last few weeks have been kind of difficult here. I sometimes have days or weeks of wondering what on earth I am doing here. I spend those times feeling tired, discouraged, wondering if I was really meant to come here in the first place. Sometimes the question for me is not whether I am called here, but whether I can really do it. And while I am so excited that people are coming here to work with me, I wonder if I won't just be too exhausted by the time they get here to keep moving forward.

Then a day like today happens...

I pulled up to my usual parking space in BT, just outside a line of rooms where I have worn a path over the last few years. I saw my friend "Sally" (not her real name) for the first time in a while. I met Sally about 2 1/2 years ago when she first arrived in BT. She is strikingly beautiful, and I stopped in my tracks the first time I passed her room. We talked briefly, and I told her what I tell all the girls, "Jesus knows your name, the story of your life, and he loves you." Huge tears began to fall from her eyes. I mean, her eyes weren't just watering, but massive tears fell down her cheeks. I'm not sure I have ever been so moved by such a simple statement, but Sally really heard those words that day. I have at different times since knowing Sally, heard her share this story with new girls, or others when she is introducing me. It was an impacting day for me, but I never realized she remembered it so well, too. Today I sat down with Sally to catch up, and the most unexpected things came out of her mouth. She reminded me of our first conversation: "Do you remember when you told me that Jesus loves me? Kelly, those words have impacted the rest of my life." She went on to tell me she has decided to leave BT, to go home to be a mom to her 9-year old daughter. "I am leaving this place, to live my life for God." As if that wasn't big enough, she began to share words that sounded like poetry to me: "Kelly, don't give up hope; don't give up faith. Keep telling the girls that Jesus loves them. I'm leaving now, and many others will leave, too. You have been so patient; you have been our friend, you throw birthday parties for us. You have made many sacrifices with your life. When we sacrifice for God, there are beautiful consequences. My life is a beautiful consequence." Needless to say, this left me in tears. I told Sally that her words today have impacted my life, just like my words impacted hers. I was amazed in that moment as I realized that no one else on this whole planet can encourage me the way my friends in BT can. Their words of "keep going" and "yes, it matters" carry more weight than anyone else's words. Jesus has given me such a strange and beautiful friendship with these men and women. And though I have hated being alone the last few years, Sally would only have shared those things with me one-on-one. Being alone has been part of God's plan here, whether I liked it or not.

I walked away from Sally's room, stunned. As I made my way to "Donna's" room, I found her sitting and talking with another friend, "Alice." After some small talk, they both told me they are leaving after Christmas! Donna has found work in the States, working for a family she worked for many years ago. Alice is going home to be a mom to her 11-year old son! Through teary eyes, they both told me that it is time for them to go. Donna said, "We know you are happy and sad at the same time, Kelly. But mostly happy." We are making plans for a big going-away party. That will be a beautiful day.

I made plans with "Patti" to go to breakfast and talk about her future plans of leaving BT to go to nursing school. I also had a special gift to give her - some friends of mine from Tulsa put together a going-to-nursing-school gift for her. You should have seen Patti's face when she opened her back pack to find brand new shoes, a stethoscope, and notebooks. She took out the stethoscope and listened to her own heart, and started crying! What a beautiful moment. Then she told me that she had bad news - that she is actually coming back after Christmas to work a little longer. She said she needs to buy a car, and she will start school in August. After much protesting on my part, I could see that she was determined to buy this car. Realizing that my new task is to focus on August, I had to pull myself together. I did tell her, however, that if July rolls around and she's still here, I am breaking up friends with her. I won't speak to her anymore, I told her. She kind of smiled because she knew that it wouldn't be possible for me to stop talking to her. I told her to keep her stethoscope where she can see it, to remind her of the dreams God has placed in her heart to be a nurse.