Little Fingers through Little Bars
When we came to Guatemala, we were more than two crazy people leaving everything behind. We thought we belonged. We felt like God himself pointed towards the mountains in Huehuetenango and said, "I have a home waiting for you there." We listened and we came but not all stories have great endings. Our story ended up being much less than a book, and much more like a chapter.
Little fingers through little bars. That's what I'm still allowed of the children I grew to know and love as my own. Five or six kids looking out a tiny metal bar covered window slot. All trying to get my attention. All asking me to come over and say hi. But I can't. Because I'm not allowed. I can't go sneak a hug. Or tell them I miss them. Or tell them how sorry I am that I promised I would never leave.
All I can do is wave, try to smile past the pain of realizing that their little fingers waving at me through the gate is the best I can have. Try to smile so they know how happy I am that I can see them for just a second. Try to smile so they don't see the agony underneath.
And the younger ones believe it. They wave and smile and jump up and down, mysteriously content with nothing more. The older kids, the teens, they know better. They see through my bullshit smile and feel the agony. Because they are thinking the same things, too. They all wish we could be back as much as we do. And they are as lost and confused as we are about why that will never happen.
--------------------------------------
So now what?
I feel like I have been told to leave Huehue, like God himself telling me:
"Bob, I know Huehue wasn't easy for you. And I know you did not want to leave your home you already had. I know how hard that was for you. How hard it still is every day. But you did as I asked, and that brings so much joy to me. I know things did not work out the way you wanted with the children, and that's okay. I know you don't know why you were forced to leave, or why your pouring out of love was never enough. But you do not need to know why. I know why. And you don't need to. Rest assured, everything has turned out the way I planned. "
Unfortunately, the work we moved to Guatemala for is finished. We are not allowed to see the children we came here for and without them, there's no reason left for us to stay. We have had many friends and family members suggest that we move back home, that if we can't work at the orphanage than there's no point of staying in Guatemala any more. And they make a valid point but they don't truly understand what we have to sacrifice in order to do that...
Because then there's Antonio. You know, the kid who jokingly and seriously calls us Mami and Papi. The kid that is our kid in ever way, except legally. The unpredictable blessing and every day stressful overly sensitive teenage drama master who dances around our kitched blarring Nikki Minaj of volume sixteen thousand. The one who asks for tortillas for breakfast then says "omg! these aren't tortillas! are you even Guatemalan?!" The kid that asks for chopsticks, a new wallet, pants, rings, and a wig in the same five minutes. And then literally just said, "nnniicce chopsticks guys. I need the nice ones."
He moved in with us days after we were fired. He has been both a blessing and a drama-filled overly sensitive teenager - if any one has met Antonio personally, you know exactly what I am talking about.
Antonio has been with us for a little over two months. We have the option, of course, of saying we want to leave Guatemala and tell him to move home with his biological family against his wishes, but we try our best to live our lives with integrity, to always do the right thing no matter who is watching.
Leaving him could never be the right thing. I know for sure God has never told me to leave Guatemala, or Antonio. Our path has changed but there's hope. And there's joy. And that makes the path already incredible. ------------------------------ We will be moving in the near future to a new city, either towards the lake (Panajachel) or more towards the city, probably Antigua. I can't emotionally handle seeing little fingers waving at me any more. I woud love to be in a place of joy and happiness, and not anger. I am unable to do that where I currently live. So were seeking a new start with our new family.
We need support to help us move to a calmer/ safer city, to help Antonio with school, and to apply for an American Visa. Some people have walked with us since the beginning, with prayer, reading/sharing our blog, or supporting us, thank you. A small monthly donation goes a long way for us (yes, every thing is still tax deductable!)
Our current needs/Goals 1.) Moving to Antigua - approximately $300 to move with all of our stuff (assuming we need nothing new when we get there)
2.) School/Activities for Antonio runs approximately $50 per month, or $600 per year
3.) A Visa application plus a lawyer runs approximately $300 total. $150 for the Visa application and $150 for a lawyer (a lawyer is not necessary, but they have a 98% success rate, so its worth it)
4.) Genereal living arrangements in Antigua plus food, which is more expensive than where we currently live. On average, we expect to spend around $550/month for rent and groceries.
