7th grader Damajhay: ‘I’m going to go to college at Baylor or Marquette.” Me: “Really? Why those two schools?” Damajhay: “They have good history programs. I’m gonna study history and get one of those Ph.D.’s” Me: “What are you going to do with a Ph.D. in history?” Damajhay: “Get a job somewhere. Hopefully it’s on one of those History Channel Shows.”

7 year old Ashton, at start of Bible study, “Can I just get my snack and go home? I don’t want to be here.”

11 year old Ishimaue, “I have a flat tire again. I know you just fixed it and said to be more careful but I don’t know what happened. Can you please fix it again?” (I said yes – I’m a softie)

14 year old girl: “I’m moving in with my grandma. My mom’s boyfriend hits her and I don’t like it. She won’t break up with him and I’m tired of it. So I’m moving out.

15 year old girl, during a discussion we were having on forgiveness: “What if you’re dad walked out on you and your mom when you were born? How do you forgive that?”

Tazz, 13 “I got the 7th grade record!” From a text message after the city track meet. He long jumped 17′ 11″. I’m kind of proud, plus I watched him do it. We just didn’t know it was the record at the time. Also, I take credit from the countless games of “Jump the River” I made him play.

19 year old young man, “What do you think of me joining the Marines? I think I’m going to have to – I’m running out of options.”

9 year old Cecilia at Monday Bible study: “I like this church, we’re go to another one on Wednesdays now.” I love how the kids consider the Bible studies “Church”

12 year old Ty: “I prayed to receive Jesus this weekend. Was alone in my room and just decide it was time. I feel different.” (That’s the best thing I’ve heard in weeks!)

With the nice weather has come lots of kids out wanting to play. That means lots chaotic tag games with 40 kids running around. You’d think this would wear them out enough to sit still and listen to my Bible stories. Um…nope.

At Easter time, I think it’s necessary to decorate some eggs. It’s also much cleaner and easier to purchase plastic eggs and let the kids use markers to do the decorating. They also stuffed them full of candy. Cypress Creek had a small crowd the day we did it, and it made for a nice, calm, fun activity. NGV did not have a small group. It was not nice or calm, but I think the kids had fun…

Every Easter, I read the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus stories from the Jesus Storybook Bible, which I love very much. I love it so much that we decided to give copies of it away to all our kids and families for Easter. Thanks to those of you who provided the funds for us to do so. We’ve handed out 40 of them to famlies, and a few more are still being handed out! Below is Taekwon showing off some of the books.

Finally, the Get Real Club at Travis is still going strong. I meet with about 10 kids from each of the grades (6th, 7th, and 8th) during the course of their lunches. We talk about anything and everything. And as our relationships have strenghtened, the kids are growing more and more honest about their hurts and dreams and desires. It’s been pretty amazing. Here are some of the 6th graders finishing up lunch before we head off to our room.

Life is fun and crazy in these parts. And it’s only going to get crazier: we’ve got a lot in store for the Summer.

This is me and several of the 4th and 5th graders who became my good friends last year. We were quite happy to see each other again!

We spent the week talking about the armor of God, and were able to give all the kids (400+) t-shirts saying La Armadura de Dios with a picture of a soldier in armor. The spent the week coloring their shirt in however they wanted. This was really cool because most of the kids only have a few shirts in their posession. So these new shirts meant so much to the kids.

I also got to do 2 of my favorite things at the school. 1) I did a mini-magic show for 4 group assemblies a day (and told a Bible story, but I think the kids preferred the magic). And 2) we played the older boys in soccer after school let out every afternoon. I generally made a fool out of myself, because the boys are awesome and I am terrible. I did score a couple of goals on Thursday, and I will hold that over their heads every year I come back from now on.

That’s one of our interpretors, Jorge, to my right. He’s an awesome guy with an amazing, heartbreaking story about growing up amid the violence of Nicaragua’s civil war in the ’80s.  Crazy stuff, really, that makes me so grateful to have grown up in America.

We also spent a day at the House of Hope, a rescue ministry for women and girls trapped in the horrible world of human trafficing. It’s not my favorite place to be – it’s just so hard to be there and be around young girls my daughters’ ages who had been forced into prostitution. Just terrible. I’m thankful those girls are now safe.  We got to spend an afternoon playing with those girls along with several other children whose mother’s were rescued from the industry and now live on the compound. This is me and Moises.  He lives there with his grandmother. April, who runs the ministry, has asked that we not share specifics of the kids’ stories. I’ll just say his family has seen horrible tragedy and violence. I met him last year, and I continue pray for him and his siblings to know the love of the Heavenly Father.

We had a great time with the kids, and even had a chance to do a little ministry and prayer time. I talked to them about being safe in the arms of the Heavenly Father. We spent time in prayer, sitting with Jesus. I talked about how Jesus was always there. One of the little girls, at the end of the prayer time, raised her hand and said (in Spanish, obviously), “I didn’t know Jesus was there with us in the darkness…” Wow. I can’t imagine what she’s seen and experienced in the darkness. I can’t imagine the nightmares and fears that come flooding into her mind at night. But I’m grateful that she knows Jesus is there, in the darkness.  That she is safe.

The last day in Nicaragua was the best day. We spent Friday morning ministering to the teachers – the kids were out that day for what we would call here in the states an “in-service day” for the teachers. The teachers at Oasis de Esperanza are incredible people and have one of the toughest jobs you can find. Working in the heat every day with kids with all kinds of physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional problems due to a life spent in the dumpgrounds with bad water and bad food. The teachers get very little recognition or appreciation. And they deserve it. So we gave it to them. We spent the morning washing their feet and praying for them. It was a powerful, emotional experience for everyone. I’ll never forget it.

We wrapped up the week with a visit to quite possibly, apart from my own home, my favorite place in the whole world – the Hosanna Orphanage. It’s a place of incredible peace, hope, love, and feeling for nearly 40 kids who have been rescued from painful lives and shown the love of Jesus. We played soccer (of course) swang, ran, laughed, rested and enjoyed the company of the kids. I got to do my magic for them, and they are quite honestly the best audience in the world. They laugh harder and applaud more than anyone, and they’ve seen a good chunk of my tricks 3 times now. They were requesting tricks that I did 2 years ago. It was a blast.  The neatest thing is that when it’s time to leave, after we pray for them, one by one many of the kids stand up and encourage us, quote scripture, and thank us for spending time with them. It’s extremely humbling. It’s such a beautiful place that gives me great hope for the future of that country.

So that’s the trip in a nutshell. I can’t quite fully put words to all we did and saw, but that should give you some idea. I love Nicaragua. I love Wayne and Elaine MaGouirk and what they’re doing the Savior’s Tear and Oasis de Esperanza. It’s a place near and dear to my heart, and I can’t wait to go back…

But it was a trip I took with a very heavy heart. I left early last Thursday morning, knowing that Jeremy, one of my very best friends, a guy I’d known most of my life, was losing his battle with brain cancer. I was able to say my goodbye before I left. It looked like he wasn’t going to live past the weekend. I grieved before I left as best I could, not knowing what the future days held. God was faithful and gave me the strength, joy and energy to be able to love on a bunch of amazing kids at the orphanage.  But still, it was tough. But I made it through. I was able to laugh and play and pray and forget the worries back home for chunks at a time. But still…

Jeremy died on Sunday night. I was sleeping alone in the dark in a little bunkhouse at the Comfort home. The Comforts are a couple raising 13 kids, 12 of whom were born with AIDS/HIV. The 13th has other major medical complications (http://ilovehaiticomfort.blogspot.com/ ) I had spent a crazy week with them on a trip to Haiti last year, so Ray Comfort came by the HATS orphanage where we stayed to bring me to his place for a 24 hour visit with the family. I woke up Monday morning not knowing what was going on back home.  The Comforts have a computer with a satellite hookup, so mid-morning I was able to sneak away from the hours of carrying kids around, blowing bubbles, spinning in circles, and doing magic tricks to log on and check my messages.  And there it was.  The message I’ve been dreading for 3 months.  My wife wrote to tell me Jeremy had died.

As much as I had prepared for it, as much as I was at peace knowing that Jeremy was no longer in pain, as much as I was relieved that this long nightmare was over, I hurt.  I was sad. I was broken. I was angry. And I was standing in the middle of chaos. 13 orphans in the middle of a little room trying to play with the stuff I had brought them. Starving for my attention. Wanting to play. To read. To laugh. To blow more bubbles. I just wanted to weep, to grieve, to get away.  But I couldn’t. All I could do was sit on the concrete floor, covered in dust and children.  Little Marissa came and sat on my lap. I watched the kids play, in a daze.

Then something remarkable happened. Little Rosy came over to me and sat in the part of my lap unoccupied by Marissa.  Rosy is short for Rosemond, but everyone calls him Rosy.  He’s 8 years old, and he is a walking, talking miracle.  The Comforts got him at age 3.  He had suffured from severe malnutrition, pneumonia, Tuberculosous, scabies, AIDS, and various skin ulcerations and infections when he was rescued from the streets.  He didn’t speak and was unable to walk or crawl. Instead, he scooted around on the floor, pushing himself with his left leg. He weighed 18 pounds.  He is still several years behind in motor skills, but is walking well and speaking well and understands both Creole and English. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, for the most part. He often likes to sit with me and play with my watch, pluck my leg hairs, and poke at the mole on my neck. Doesn’t talk to me much. I always wonder what goes on in that brain of his. But things seem like they’re growing clearer now. He seems happier. He smiles and interacts with the kids more than he did a year ago. My prayer for him has been that he’d hear God’s voice and understand it clearly.

He sat in my lap and looked at me with compassion. He put his arm around me and laid his head on my shoulder, as if he knew. He then gently moved toward me, and did something he’d never done before.

He gave me a kiss on the cheek.

He laid his head back on my shoulder. I looked down at him.

“Thanks Rosy. You knew I needed that, didn’t you?”

He just smiled that crooked little grin of his and gazed at me with knowing eyes, one of which drifts off to the side.  He has a lazy eye, like me. And I knew that he knew. He knew what I needed in the midst of the chaos, the sorrow. It’s as if God reached down from the heavens and, through that little boy, gave me what I needed. A kiss from the Lord. A touch. Compassion. Comfort. I needed the Peace that says “it’s all going to be ok, whether you understand it or not. I AM with you, Brooks.”

In the midst of it all, I found Jesus in the dirt on Monday morning. Through the touch of a remarkable, broken little boy. The kind of goofy little underdog that Jeremy Lavake would have loved and bonded with so easily if the two had ever met.

I still have lots of questions. Questions about life and death. About the unfairness of it all. Poverty. Sickness. AIDS. Brain cancer. It doesn’t make much sense to me. But I know this. God is real. And He is good.

And that’s never been more clear to me than it was on the floor Monday morning. For that I’m thankful.

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.”