I’ve known Shaq and his sister Leaia pretty much since Mission 2540 began. Shaq has had a lot of ups and downs in the times since I’ve known him.  This fall, after much searching and struggling, he came to the realization the he know Jesus was his Savior, but had never fully made him Lord of his life. Shaq made that decision, and I’ve seen a huge change in his attitude and countenance and decision making.  I’m excited for what is ahead for that guy!  His little sister Leaia, who is know a 6th grader, prayed to receive Jesus a couple years ago.  She is an extremely shy (and very sweet) girl, and the idea of standing in front of hundreds of people and getting baptized was a very scary thing for her.  Leaia has wavered back and forth for some time now, but knowing that her big 19 year old brother would be up there with her made the decision much easier.  Having the two of them up there together was very special.

Tyvus lives at Cypress Creek Apartments.  We’ve known each other for just 6 or 7 months. He has slowly been learning and seeking and figuring out this whole faith thing. When we met, he didn’t have much of a clue and was in and out of lots of trouble. But God has definitely been in pursuit of the guy and he’s eyes and ears have steadily grown more open to the Gospel.  A the end of December, he went with a group of the youth at Messiah’s House to IHOP in Kansas City. While there, he felt the call of the the Lord and gave his life to Jesus.  It was a great way for him to start a new year!  It’s been fun watching Ty grow, and it’s going to continue to be…

Thanks to all of you who pray, give, and volunteer for Mission 2540. Times like theses show why we do what we do!

Today is Human Trafficking Awareness Day.  In honor of that, here’s something I wrote last summer from Managua, Nicaragua after spending a day at House of Hope, a ministry that rescues women and girls from the horrors of the sex trafficking industry in Nicaragua.

June 14, 2011 – I thought of my daughters alot today at the House of Hope. It’s a place of peace, comfort, rescue, and hope for countless young girls and women who were trapped and are in the midst of being set free from the sex trade.

I met a girl named Vanesa today. She says she is 10. She’s about the size of my 8 year old Karsen, though. With big brown eyes like both my girls and their mom. She was rescued from a children’s brothel 2 nights ago right here in Managua and brought to the House of Hope. She is only 10. She should be innocent. Playing with dolls. Jumping rope.  Laughing. Vanesa is a beautiful little girl. Shes likes to smile, shyly. She likes to color. She colored a picture next to me and on it she wrote, “Dios te ama.” God loves you.

It reminded me of something my Karsen would do. My baby girl is home, safe and sound. Monday, she was sick, throwing up so much she had to get an IV. I’m her Daddy and I worried about her. Had trouble sleeping Monday night, praying she would be ok. I’m here in Nicaragua.  She’s home in Amarillo. I wonder if Vanesa even knows her dad. I wonder if he worries about her. If he even knows she exists.

I read her words out loud to her. “Dios TE AMA” God LOVES YOU, Vanesa. She laughed at how I couldn’t pronounce her name properly – “BAH-nay-sah.”

I pray that at the House of Hope, her new home, she grows to understand that God does indeed love her. That her heavenly Father has swooped down to rescue her and provide her with a place of hope. That He can and will heal her broken little heart. That He can and will provide her with a future and a hope that nothing else can. That her heavenly Father doesn’t hurt, doesn’t leave, and doesn’t lie.

There is lots of evil in this world. I’ve seen lots of bad stuff in my ministry. But nothing – NOTHING – compares to human trafficing that involves little girls my daughter’s age. It is the worst. 60% of all human trafficing in the western hemisphere originates in Nicaragua. Child brothels are countless. We met a woman today sold by her sister into sex slavery when she was 7. We met a girl kidnapped and forced into the trade at 10 or 11. Others trained in the profession by their mothers and sisters. And all of them now have hope. I’m so thankful for this place. The House of Hope is not just a house – it’s a huge compound. Many women and their children live there. Hundreds attend their weekly bible studies and cell groups, and receive training and grants for starting businesses. Many work at the house, making jewelry and cards and other trinkets to sell.

Hearing these stories, the problem of trafficing seems just so big, too tragic, completely overwhelming. It made me feel helpless, really. We spent most of the morning listening to stories, meeting people, playing with kids (some were the children of prostitutes, others were former prostitutes). We colored. We laughed. I did a magic show, after which one boy yelled, “Gracias, gringo!” If you know what gringo means in Spanish, that is funny, I promise.

This afternoon, we painted the outside concrete walls of a few of the homes where the women live. We painted them blue. Painting concrete is hard work, especially in the heat and when you’re surrounded by kids trying to grab paintbrushes so they can paint you (I am still slightly blue, even after a shower and a dip in the pool). But the thing about painting is – when you paint, you see progress. One minute, the wall is gray; the next, it’s blue. We could see what we had accomplished this afternoon and how much further we had to go.

I don’t know how April, who runs this ministry, does it. To hear so many stories, see so much heartache, so much pain. And to know it’s not ending anytime soon. That little girls will be rescued week to week, brought in for safety and healing. Where does the wall end? When will the painting stop? But I know this – she can turn and look back, and see what I saw. Women like Berta, who is 25, rescued from a lifetime in the sex trade, about to get her high school diploma, with the desire to one day work FOR the House of Hope and help other young girls like herself. That’s a wall completely painted. There’s more like her there, too.

Wall after wall after wall. Some nearing completion. Some just started. But lots of walls, filling up with paint.

Full of Hope.

We got to surprise 73 kids with new bikes this past weekend, and it was the most fun outreach we’ve ever done.  The excitement of the kids was awesome.

A couple of weeks ago, I wasn’t quite sure how we were going to pull this thing off.  We got the bikes from a a very generous distributor in Houston, and it seemed like everything that could go wrong went wrong in our ability to get the bikes here to Amarillo in a timely manner.  After our final option fell through, board member Bryson Oeschger drove all the way to Houston himself with a trailer to pick them up early last week.  They got here in time for a massive bike assembly party on Thursday night.  Huge thanks to Justin and Amy Howe, who allowed us to use their airplane hanger to store and assemble all the bikes.  And thanks to the 50+ men (and kids) who came out to help put the bikes together.  It was amazing – they were all assembled within just a few hours.

All the bikes got delivered over the weekend, and the looks on the kids’ faces were priceless.  I put together a little video so you guys can see some of the fun:

Thanks so much to all of you who gave so that we could make special Christmas memories this year for a bunch of kids who deserved it.

(and don’t worry – we have helmets for the kids on the way!)

“Help poor people.”

“Treat people the way you want to be treated. ”

“No more school.”

“I’d have everybody give me all their stuff.  I’d look through it and give back the stuff I didn’t want.”

“I’d say that I got to have a billion dollars.”

“No more rent.”

“No bills”

“At school, the students would be in charge of the teachers.”

“No violence.”

“You don’t have to pay for anything.”

“No stealing.”

“Be nice to everybody.”

“Everyone gets candy whenever they want.”

Fun stuff.  Those kids make me smile.

I’m able to load up 15 or so kids every Wednesday in the church van and bring them to and from our Wednesday activities.  It’s always a fun time.  For instance, last night, the large group of middle school girls in the back of the van asked me to turn on the radio.  They weren’t specific about what they wanted to listen to (though I know they were hoping for one of the rap/hip-hop stations).  I cranked up the country.  They yelled and yelled, asking me to change it. So I did – to NPR.  Classical music was playing.  I thought this was really funny.  They did not, but I was in charge of the radio, so tough luck for them.  We have this kind of fun on van rides.  It makes the long journey of dropping them off into a good time.

Often kids will invite their friends, so I meet a lot of new kids from just driving the van.  About a month ago, I started picking up an 8th grade girl who is friends with several of our regulars.  Last week, she brought her little brother.  Yesterday, they brought another brother (turns out there are 9 total siblings – they don’t all live together due to different mother and father combos.  Glad they don’t all live together, because I wouldn’t have room in the van!)

Anyway, on the way home, I dropped of the first girl at her house.  I waited in front until her mom opened the door to let her in.

One of the brothers asked me, “Why are you wating to leave?”

“I just want to make sure she gets in safe.”

“Making sure she doesn’t get kidnapped or something?”

“Well, I’m just making sure her mom is home so she can get in. If not, I’d try to take her somewhere else.  I just want her to be safe.”

He thought for a minute, and then asked, “Are you going to do that for us when you take us home?”  I could tell he was really hoping I’d say yes, but suprised I’d say yes at the same time.

“Of course.  I’ll wait until you get in.  I think you’re important and worth waiting on.”  These are words I don’t think he hears often enough.

He smiled.  “Cuz we’re God’s children?”

“Yep, that’s exactly right.”

All proceeds go to benefit Mission 2540.  You’ll look good while promoting a great cause!

And don’t forget, we still have a few other styles available:

The brown shirts are long sleeve and cost $20; the green shirts are short sleeve and cost $16.

We’ll have paypal set up on this website very soon to make ordering easier.  Until then, if you’d like a shirt or two, comment below or email me at brooks@mission2540.org.

The hardest part is saying “Good-bye.”  Kids move in and out a lot.  Families living in generational poverty move a lot, often with very little notice.  For a variety of reasons – evictions, law trouble, family trouble, need for a “change” - you name it, I’ve seen it.  So I’ve said lots of good-byes.  And they never get easier.

Last week, I said the hardest good-bye yet to a family I’ve known for 7 years – I met them when I first started at the North Grand Villas.  They moved to Cypress Creek Apartments about the same time I started there.   We’ve been through a lot together – joy and pain and deaths and births and struggles and hurts.  I’ve watched the kids grow up.  I’ve helped keep their lights on.  I’ve given lectures to the boys when they got out of hand.  I’ve held them as they’ve wept.  We’ve laughed.  Discussed life.  We’ve been family.

Last week, they moved to California, closer to family.  Towards dreams of a better life.  I’m not sure if they’ll find it there.  I pray they do.  I’m not sure if I’ll see them again.  I pray for that, too.

It’s been hard.  But I know some truths that make it easier. 

One – God loves them more than I do.  His eye is on the sparrow.  It’s also on them.

Two – I’m not their salvation – here on earth physically or for eternity spirtitually.  I am but a piece of that puzzle, put in their path by a God with plans. 

Three – I can treasure my many relationships, but they cannot be my ultimate Treasure.  My treasure is Him, and Him alone.

He has called me to this ministry.  Not for me to have trophies and names I can stick up on some big board in the sky that says “Look what Brooks did!”  No, He’s called me to this ministry to show hurting, broken people that He loves them.  I got 7 years to do that for a hurting, broken family.  They know God’s love now.  I rejoice in that.  I can be glad in that.  In the midst of the pain of good-byes, I also have joy.  I have peace.

It’s been a long, busy, wild summer.  Mission trip to Nicaragua.  5 weeks of weeklong Summer Bible Clubs from various mission teams.  Thousands of water balloons blown up and thrown.  Countless magic shows, it seems like.  221 backpacks handed out.  100 shoes.  Our golf scramble fundraiser last Friday.   It’s been one thing after another after another. It makes for one very busy yet very productive summer.

But, in all honesty, it’s been a summer of great frustration for me. In the midst of all the summer activities and all the “stuff” required to run this ministry, the parable of the sower has been running through my mind.  It seems like so many of the kids I’ve been walking with and discipling over years, as they get older and reach their upper high school years and beyond tend to fall off, mess up, lose contact, repeat the mistakes of their parents, etc.  This summer has seemed like that to me more than ever.  I’ve had several of my college-aged kids get arrested, drop out of school, get pregnant, do drugs, quit jobs, etc. over just the past 3 or 4 months.  It’s been tough.  The soil where I’ve sown seed has been way too rocky.

The goal of this ministry is to help kids raised in poverty discover their self worth, that they are loved and created by a God who has great plans and opportunities for them.  And that because of this, they really do have a hope and a future.  That they don’t have to repeat the mistakes of family members, that cycles of poverty, teen pregnancies, absentee fathers, abuse and drugs can and will stop with them.  That’s the goal.  Sometimes, I feel like I’m making progress.  Other times, I feel like I don’t.  Jesus explains why that its when he explains the parable of the sower later in Matthew 13:

¹⁸ “Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: ¹⁹ When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path. ²⁰ The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. ²¹ But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. ²² The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. ²³ But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”

I run into most of those soils on a daily basis – all but the good soil.  It’s rare. Life in poverty makes it tough to grow spirtitual seeds.  There’s lots of worries of the day.  Lots of turmoil.  Lots of birds swooping in to steal.  And its frustrating.  I know my job is to scatter the seeds.  But I also have a job to work that soil.  To strengthen it.  To do battle against the weeds and birds and rocks.  To help roots dig deep.

And my prayer is that this school year, I’ll find more and more good soil.  I want to see the seeds take root and grow, and produce more and more life around them.  That’s my prayer.  That’s my hope.

The lack of blog posts recently is due to the fact that we just finished handing out backpacks and school supplies to around 220 kids at the North Grand Villas, Cypress Creek Apartments, and several places in-between.  Thanks to all of you who gave, shopped, or helped hand out supplies.  I definitely couldn’t do it without you!

On Saturday at the North Grand Villas, we held a hotdog cookout, handed out backpacks, and measured kids for shoes we’ll provide them from the A Step Up shoe closet.  It was our 7th(!) annual back-to-school cookout.  Here are a few pics:

We weren’t able to do a party at Cypress Creek this year.  They had a party on Tuesday that we particpated in and measured shoe sizes at, but they had us hand out the backpacks seperately, since not all the residents qualified or signed up for it.  That’s ok.  But unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures of Tuesday’s event.  But it was well-attended and a good time, but also quite hot.  But here are a few pics of kids with their new supplies that we got on Wednesday from passing them out door to door.

Again, thanks to all who helped make a small difference in the lives of many hurting families this month.  It’s lots of work, but lots of fun.  And I’m sure I’ll be dreaming about school supplies for several more weeks…