I hate when we’re on the streets and the kids run up to us, all at once. It means bad news every single time.
So, yesterday, when I saw them all running at us, as soon as the car stopped, it seems like my heart stopped for a tick, and then, resolutely, started again. I braced myself.
“Tia, did you hear about Raniere?”
“No, I haven’t heard.”
“They killed him with a screwdriver in his neck.”
We met Raniere the same day we met our firstborn son in Christ, Clessio, at our stop in Petropolis. That day Clessio told us, “Raniere is a good kid.” Two years later, after Clessio left the rehab and shortly before his death, Clessio visited Raniere and urged him to go to the rehab. And he went. We took him twice to rehab and he never stayed more than a few weeks. He just couldn’t stop using crack.
I know why they all ran to tell us the news yesterday; we are their connection with God. And in their hearts they are scared and pleading for this not to happen to them next. They all know that if they continue using and living on the street they will die soon. They all have an accurate picture of their condition and its outcome. But, they cannot stop.
We don’t hesitate to tell them that they could be the next to die. We warn them in a way that you might think is unnecessarily hard. But we’re crying when we tell them this. It’s just that love compels us to tell them straight and clear. They deserve to know what the end is, in this life, and for eternity, if they don’t accept God’s lifeline of Salvation and freedom from drugs.
The heartbreak I feel at their condition doesn’t lessen with time, but rather, it seems to increase. I have pleaded with God to have His heart and His love, and so I really shouldn’t be surprised that I feel their despair and loss and hurt so acutely.
Days like yesterday leave me drained, but better focused on the goal. Once again, death speaks to me and these kids and I start praying more. Once again, God reminds me that this is a war that must be fought on our knees. God is the answer. Jesus is the Way. Please fight for these kids. Pray.
It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to the house of feasting: for in that we are put in mind of the end of all, and the living thinketh what is to come. (Ecclesiastes 7:2 Douay-Rheims)
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