You Boy,

You Boy, 

Not many men can face rejection and the abuse that you faced and learn to love again. Not many again can be threatened by their father that “if you ever come back to this home, I will break both of your legs,” and still submerge themselves into a family. Not many men can make friends again after being beaten, lied to, stolen from, and abused by their peers. Not many men can leave the drugs of their choosing that have become their best friends, because in the end they are the only ones they can depend on to take them to a safe place. Three days you shook. Three days you faced the pain of withdrawal. Three days you conquered. 

It is my joy to watch you come alive. It is my honor to see you in your purest form. It is my delight to see your eyes dance with light. It is my pleasure to watch you begin to recognize the goodness that lives within you. It makes my Spirit sing when the boy comes out of you who is pure, sweet, childlike, trusting, and joyful; and you look at yourself and question “who is this boy?” There is no shame in the man you are becoming. You are learning that there is no shame in being loved. There is no shame in loving somebody. It makes my heart cry “hallelujah!” when you continuously talk about what you’ve seen in the “Jesus film” and how you ask to watch it literally every day. I’ve loved watching your swollen belly, destroyed with malnutrition and worms, shrink down to a size of a starving child, and then fill out, full of good things. I’ve seen your strength, as your muscles wake up from years of drunken stupor and incapacitating highs. You can swing, and play football, and run, and do handstands, and flip, and jump.

These moments right now are fleeting, but growing in frequency. They help me be patient when you lie to me. They help me love when you look at me with misplaced bitterness. They help me forgive when you treat me as if I have done the most unforgivable thing to you. They help me fight for you when you want to fight with your brothers. They help me see you at times when there is no light to be seen. 

You are strong. You have conquered. You are beautiful. You are brave. You are loved. 

To Be Planted....

Our desire this year is to be planted. As a ministry, God has given us a deep desire to focus on what we are doing and to ensure that we are walking in every place with excellence. Our DOORS home throughout the past three years has been developed immeasurably more than we could have ever imagined. We believe that to enter into this next stage of development, that God desires for us to be planted. We are looking to buy two houses in separate locations within our current community. Our vision over our homes is to have no more than six to seven children within each home, with uncles and aunts in each location that are not simply facilitating a children’s home but fostering a family that abides in the Kingdom. 

To purchase these two properties will approximately cost $80,000. An investment that will allow us to continue to build upon the values which God has instilled in us thus far:

Intentionality. Our intention within our homes is to create disciples. Our intention is that whether a child is with us for three days, four months, or two years; that they leave having been embraced by the love of Christ and knowing more of Jesus’ heart for them. Our intentions are for our staff members to lay down their lives to follow Jesus into a calling, and not just find a good job. Our intention is that no matter what your age or role within our ministry is, each day living life together is a day of intentionally seeking the Kingdom of God and desiring that to be revealed within your own life and the way that you love others around you.

Community. We believe in the power of community. It would be easier and cheaper to find a big plot of land outside of the city and build enough homes to house hundreds of children. We believe that the Lord is asking us to put a higher value on community. We not only desire to reintegrate street children into a society that they have been rejected from, but to create leaders and servants within that society. If our heart is to create world changers, we have to begin with the current community that we abide in. We believe that the interactions and relationships that our children have with our neighbor who has become our DOORS grandma, our friend that runs the local supermarket, and their friends all throughout our community are powerful. We believe that community provides accountability. We believe that our children should have a church family, and frankly, we love our local church. We believe in teaching our children how to be loved and how to be love.  

Individuality. We don’t believe in pushing people through a system. The children within our ministry have vastly different talents, struggles, gifts, desires, histories, and passions. We believe that if we are proclaiming that our focus is on discipleship, that it begins with the individual. We seek to find how we can best reach every child on their level; How can we best feed each child’s passions and talents? how can we best discipline this child? how does this child best hear the gospel? and how can we best empower this child to take every way that our Creative Maker has molded him, and lay it down before the feet of Jesus for His glory? We want to be fully invested in each of our children. That is why believe in keeping our numbers small and empowering a group of devoted staff members and local volunteers to strive to develop a family within each of our homes; a family where each child can be fully loved, fully known, and fully invested in. 

Expression. We believe that every day we should be seeking to let LOVE speak it’s language. We believe in teaching our children to express their love to God through their praise, and we gather for times of worship and praise each week as a ministry. We believe in teaching our children the power of the Living Word, and how it is active and working inside of them. We believe in expressing our love to Jesus through community outreach projects and simply loving the people that God puts right in front of us.  We believe in teaching our children that “There is no greater love than he who lay down his life for his friend.”  We desire to be an expression of God’s love to all who encounter us. 

Impact. We believe that we are impactful. We believe that no moment in life is lost, but every moment can be grown from. We believe that we are a walking, living, breathing testimony of God’s grace, strength, and power. We believe that we should not be hidden under a bushel, but we desire to let the love and light that is bursting out of us shine. We believe that we are raising up the next generation of Godly leaders. We believe that we are raising up disciples who will lay down their lives for Jesus out of obedience, because they have first been loved by our Almighty Maker. We believe in teaching our children to be impactful ; that they have a voice, they have a story, they have passions, and they have vision that can change the world - and it simply starts by abiding in God’s love. 

We believe Hebrews 10:39. That “We are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved.” We believe in the power and might and love of Christ that overcomes all, that saves all.

Will you believe with us?

"I can't go back"

After one week at home, he told me that he could never leave.  

“Aunt Mallory, I’m going to finish school. I don’t care if I don’t know the alphabet right now. I’m going to finish school, and even university. Then I’m going to get work. I’m going to be a pilot. I’m never going back to Kisenye (the slum where he lived as a street child). Never. I knew it would be hard to come to a home. I knew it would hurt me and make me sick to leave my drugs, but I am a bad boy when I am in Kisenye. Nobody wants a bad boy. I knew if I ever got a chance to be in a home that I could never leave because if I go back to Kisenye then I’ll be a bad boy again and I may never get another chance. I can’t go back. I’ll never go back.” 

A year and a half ago, he made me promise that if I ever brought him into our home, that I would be the one to come and pick him up from the streets. Last Saturday, I ventured down to Kisenye looking for him. He was a high risk child. Still doing drugs, still chasing people with razor blades, and still creating havoc. God was still saying “Bring my child home.” 

I knew that if I stood in one place long enough he would find me, because he always did. I walked into the middle of the slum and the crowd of street kids started to gather around me, and I politely talked to them, while I kept my eyes out for the him. He came up to the outskirts of the crowd, and through the shouting, grabbing, and playing of the twenty or so children around me, I looked at him and said “Are you ready?”  He nodded. We turned around and walked away. 

Once we’d walked away from the group, he quietly asked me, “Are we going home?” And I nodded and said yes. Again and again he asked me as we walked to the market, and it wasn’t until I pulled out my money and bought him that first pair of shoes that he looked at me with tears in his eyes and a smile bigger than anybody has ever seen and he agreed, “I’m going home!!!” 

He had lived on the streets for at least three years. Passing through the crowded market his friends working the stalls called out to him 

“Don’t let the drugs bring you back here!”  

“If she takes you home, you stick!” 

“We don’t want to see you again!” 

I was astonished at the amount of people that came up to me with smiles, tears, or shock; and they shook my hand. 

“Thank you for taking him. Thank you.” 

He smiled at me and said, “ I have many friends.” 

Frankly, I was more worried about the boys that were already in the home as he came home, than I was about him. Unfortunately, many of them had been his victims. However, when we pulled the car into the house, he was greeted with shouts, cheers, jumping up and down, as they chanted his name. 

And I’m pretty sure that the same sound was roaring from heaven. 

He made it through the withdrawal. I’d never seen him sober. He amazes me every day. 

He is home. 

Ears and Brains

(Late in posting....but still good) 

Last night, I body slammed a child.

Ears wasn’t the one with the knife, but he is much bigger than Brains. So Brains’ attempts to slash and stab were now being overwhelmed by Ears’ attack. What had started as Ears’ self-defense was now a full blown attack on Brains. 

It was one of the moments that you react before your brain has really caught up to what’s happening…

One child body slammed and locked in a head lock, 

A snatch of the knife that was being feebly swung through the air, 

A knife in one hand and that arm fending off Brains as he tried to attack, Ears head-locked in the other arm trying with all of his might to break free of my hold. 

About ten visitors had just walked in for our weekly Saturday night worship night, wanting to help but not really sure what is really going on. A big brother who runs in and grabs Brains, another big brother who steps in and grabs Ears, and an uncle who takes the knife from my shaking hand. 

Two big brothers, Ears, Brains, and myself walk into a classroom as Ears and Brains are still screaming at each other. We all sit down and I watch as the Big Brothers just totally handle it. 

They let them tell their stories. 

“He wouldn’t share his food with me, so I attacked him.” - Brains’ simple answer, no regret on his face. 

Ears is sobbing. Both are relatively new to our family. Brains came in about two months ago, and Ears had only been with us for one week. 

Big brothers talk it out with Ears and Brains (whom both are now crying), they ask them to apologize, they give Brains a punishment, they pray over them, and send Brains out to go and join worship….I didn’t say a word. I didn’t need to. I was frantically trying to hide my tears as I was having vivid flashbacks to how many meetings I’ve had with these Big Brothers where they were the ones getting talked to, and in simple awe of the men that they are.

And all this is happening with about 30 people piled in our living room worshipping. 

Ears begins to walk out, and I grabbed his hand and asked if he was okay. He collapses in my lap, weeping. 

One week since being in our home…one week of food, clothes, a bed, a family… 

I just held him because I don’t know if anybody had ever held him before while he cried. 

The rest of the night was perfectly normal. Ears is laughing, playing, worshipping, and quite happy. The next morning, Ears is gone. 

Another argument with Brains, and he flees. 

Brains is not an evil child. He is broken just like the rest of us. Brains has a story. A story that he hasn’t shared. A story that has been lied about, to the point where we as a staff, aren’t even sure what his real name is. Ears knew Brains’ story. 

Ears had heard what had happened to Brains a few months back, but didn’t know the name of the street child that he was telling stories about. We saw the recognition in Brains’ face as he knew - that we knew - that Ears was talking about Brains, even if Ears didn’t know it was Brains he was talking about. 

Brains was threatened, and a child that hasn’t had any problem making friends, quickly made an enemy. Ears had a story that Brains didn’t want told. 

Ears’ only question coming home with us was “Will the other boys beat me?” 

So many questions have torn threw my brain in the past 24 hours - of punishment, of forgiveness, of second chances, of God’s will, of bringing darkness into the light - as we struggle with the feeling that we failed a child and how to respond to Brains.

Unfortunately, I have seen kids run away. I have seen them expelled. I have seen drug addictions grab their hands and drag them from home and back to the streets. I’ve never seen a child run away because he was bullied. I’ve never seen a child flee from our home because he didn’t feel safe. 

The nitty-gritty doesn’t get written about often enough. I was going to wait until I had a pretty ending to this story to write about it. But that’s not really depicting life correctly. Life is messy. Life comes at us with hurt and pain. So I’m not going to bring you a pretty ending, at least not now, just ask you guys to pray for both Brains and Ears. As well as our staff, that we would act justly and love with mercy and walk humbly and that questions never stop our praise. 

****** I did wait until I had a pretty ending to this story to post it. Tonight I was sitting on our front porch and I heard a faint whisper of "Aunt Mallory?" coming from our bushes. Ears came back, repentant of leaving, asking for a second chance, and was welcomed back with many hugs, cheers, and laughs. #Redeemer .

NEWS

I have so much to say, yet I have no words.  There are no words that can adequately describe what has happened in the past few months. Change and movement we have been praying for for the past three years has begun.

However, I haven’t done a good job in using my words to keep people informed. Soo here we go….

The DOORS home has moved , however not everybody has moved with it.  Our caretakers (2 uncles, 2 aunts) and our nine youngest boys have a new home on top of a hill that overlooks all of Ggaba. It’s really not pretty at all….. kidding. It came with three HUGE bedrooms for the boys, a full garden, a blooming jackfruit tree, perfect living quarters for uncles and aunts, a playground!, a landlord who happens to be the local governing authority and now calls us his sons and daughters (favooooooor), and more peace than you can ever imagine. In many ways, it is our Canaan. 

The only problem is our fence has some holes in it, and our dogs can escape out of the compound. 

But Roofus is adjusting well to the transition. 

We added two new faces this past week - and we are looking on adding definitely one more before school starts. It always amazes me how Jesus speaks.He is Sovereign. 

Oh yeah - we have new beds. THANK YOU GUYS!!!!!!

The one more is a boy that we have been working with on the streets for three years. He has a very bad drug addiction, but in spite of that, we have decided that God is leading us to bring him on home and that he needs a change of environment to have a change of lifestyle. 

We have hired a new house mom for the DOORS home - who is an absolute rock star. She is everything we ever prayed for and more. As well as, our two uncles are men who are after God’s own heart - and we see that leadership reflected in our boys. The first night we moved into our new home, our now oldest boy in the home stayed awake until midnight cleaning the kitchen, and then woke up at 6 am to finish, because “We couldn’t cook our first meals in a dirty kitchen.” 

One half of the FORMER doors home is transitioning into DOORS mission school. We are expanding our homeschool classroom into a school. All of our DOORS boys will be schooling from this school, as well as a few kids from the community who also need a rehabilitative education. 

Our former bedrooms are now classrooms. We have hired new teachers, a new headmistress, and are putting beautiful systems in place that have been lacking in our homeschool classroom. 

The other half of the former DOORS home, is now the JOSHUA home. We believe that a word that is specifically spoken over our oldest boys is that they will be the leaders within DOORS ministries one day - and we have lots of praise for that! The Joshua home is a home that is teaching independence, leadership, and more opportunities for service. This was CLEARLY exemplified last week, as we had a team from TEAMeffort missions serving with us, and our Joshua boys led their time of service on the streets. 

As they have all reached the legal age of 18, and nothing can be given to them and they aren’t allowed to live in a children’s home…..our four oldest boys now becoming our “Joshua’s.”  The Joshua Home works off of a point system where the young men serve as ministry interns and receive points each week by completing ministry related tasks that help build their budget for the home. The more points they earn, the more their weekly budget can increase. 

The idea is to create independence by teaching the boys how to work for what they need in life, fight as sense of entitlement that often grows in children’s homes as kids go from having nothing to having everything given to them, give the boys much experience in ministry and job training as we can, and empower leaders. The Joshua home is facilitated by two younger men who have jobs and are living out the Christian life in a way that is an example to the young men within the home. The boys are no longer being babysat, but still have strong discipleship and leadership over their lives.

These pictures are from three years ago.... it's crazy how fast they grow up. The mom-in-me wants to be sad, but my heart is swamped with so much love and I am so proud of them that I really don't have any room for anything else. 

I personally haven’t felt as excited through this transition as I thought I would. When you see everything you have been dreaming about coming to fruition you think there would be some words to go with that? My only words have been sweet words to Jesus. Not praise because He has been faithful to His promise, but PRAISE because He has taught me that He is faithful whether we see fruit in His promises or we are still waiting.  

I just desire every ounce of my love for Him to be FOR Him, and not in what He says He is going to do for me. Promises come and reach completion and go.  His character is rich. It is an abundant place for us to fall. It is deep. It is wild. It is steadfast.

The fault in loving It

It romanced me. 

It made me heart sing when days looked dreary. 

It told me that this season would come to an end.

It brought my joy and strength when my heart was weary. 

It became my hope, and my friend. 

It became an escape when things got tough. 

It held me on nights when I wanted to give up. 

It was so excited. 

It loved to dream with me. 

It wasn’t mine to hold just yet.

But It brought me a glittery, itching feeling of what’s ahead. 

And I couldn’t wait for the day until we really met. 

It finally came. 

And I took It’s hand. 

I sang, I jumped, I screamed, I danced, and

There were a few days when I was off in la-la land. 

Then we disagreed, 

It took a lot of my time and effort, 

And I found out that It was hard to please.

Those nights of the past when I used to lay in my bed,

Alone or scared or tired of pressing on, 

Wandering when I would meet It,

Dreaming with joy of our time together, 

Knowing that we would be singing a brand new, beautiful song, 

Now seemed so far off, 

As I lay there alone, scared and tired of pressing on,

Is this really IT?! 

It couldn’t comfort me any longer,

Because I was giving It all that I had, 

And It took a lot of work, 

Gone were the nights of dreaming and romanticizing. 

It lost it’s glitter, 

It lost it’s shine, 

I didn’t know if I wanted It any longer to be mine? 

I had given It all that I had, 

I had allowed It to comfort me, 

It had been my wild adventure, 

It had been a whisper of a promise that became a fantasy, 

And now It was leaving, 

It had now come to fruition. 

All those days and night that my head was lost in romance, 

All of those hopes and dreams and visions of how wonderful It would be…

And then It was gone, It had to come and to go, 

And I thought to myself, was that IT? 

And I realized that my love for It had taken me from a very important “We”. 

Yet He called me back to His side and pulled me in close, 

“It can be better, when you’re fully in love with Me.” 

When you’re watching God’s promises unfold before your eyes, you are quick to realize the fault of what happens when you love a promise and not the Savior. What has been a labour of belief as you wait for the promise to come to fruition, becomes a labour of love, obedience, selfless sacrifice and hard work when you are living in that promise. 

The promise is not wild. The promise is not romantic. The promise will not fulfill you. The promises will not be as great as you think it will be. 

Jesus is wild. Daddy God is pouring love out on us. The Holy Spirit fills us. God is ever greater than we can ever imagine Him to be. 

Promises are spoken for the future. We are living in promises today. We all have promises that have been fulfilled already. Through it all, we have an ever-present God. 

Let’s give HIM all of our love today.

I hated it

I was twenty-two when we first brought them home. I hated it. I didn’t like little hands knocking on my window at 5 am, and I certainly didn’t like loud voices waking me up arguing in the middle of the night. I didn’t like all the time that I felt obligated to spend with them, and I really detested all the time I spent giving out punishments. I didn’t like the constant fear gripping me that one was going to run away and we were going to fail. I hated even more thinking about how much it would hurt me if they left, because I loved them. I didn’t like how tormented I was replaying conversations with critics and voices of scorn in my head. I didn’t like the pressure I felt to perform well. I hated how stuck I felt. 

The thing I hated the most was every time I looked at God, He was smiling! Smiling as I suffered, smiling as I lay awake at night letting stress toss my mind to and fro, smiling as I sat in three hour long disciplinary meetings with kids trying to make them understand that life in our home, even when they have a punishment, is better than life on the streets. 

See, He was smiling as he began bestowing blessings on us. He was cheering us on as we learned how to lay down our lives for our friends. He rejoiced every time my face hit the floor, weeping in fervent prayer - as I built a foundation of trust. He was thankful for every ‘yes’ we had given Him. He delighted in my loneliness as He and I learned how to be friends. He laughed as any parent would watching their small child try to pick up something that is entirely too heavy for their chunky, tiny, toddler arms; and His heart leapt for joy when He heard me say “Daddy, come help me.” 

I’ve learned to delight in the months of having a foggy head. I’ve learned to rejoice when my questions tally up higher than my reasons to praise. I’ve learned to laugh when I realize that I’m trying to move something on my own strength. I’ve learned to be thankful for countless seasons of suffering, because there’s always an unidentifiable point that you begin to count those seasons, not of suffering, but of abundant growth. And I smile, because God has taught me to see every single one of those children for what they are - a blessing to me - worth waiting on, worth laboring for, and really worth getting rid of me.