Santiago asked me one afternoon if he could clean the bathrooms. I gave him a bucket with soap and left him to it. I went to check on him 10 minutes later, and there I found 4 boys in underwear scrubbing the bathrooms from top to bottom. Voluntarily. Scrubbing walls with toothbrushes; flood of soap and water and laughter.

These are special kids. This is a special culture.

My past month has been fantastic. Each week seems to get better than the last. The longer I´m here the less I know how I´ll ever say goodbye. The boys are becoming family to me, and the more they open up to me the more I appreciate them for who they are, and the past they are overcoming.

It’s taken me a long time to learn my boys’ stories. Colombia can be a very closed culture, suspicious to questions, foreigners and unwarranted kindness. As my trust has built with the boys they have slowly opened up to me, opening my eyes to a world I will never understand.

Santiago, the volunteer I wrote about above, is a cool 10 year old boy. He told me one night how he was abandoned by his parents, and that he has lived with his grandmother for many years. She is old and frail, barely able to walk, and I would suggest close to her final years. I can only imagine the fear that that would build in a child. Once he loses her he will have noone. He will become lost. Suddenly his behaviour makes sense to me. I can see him not as his behaviour, but for what he holds inside.

Daniel is one of my sweetest boys, consistently well behaved. His mum brought a boyfriend into the house who started beating up Daniel, so the 9 year old left for the streets. He cries every night, asking me to pray for his family. He is polite, respectful and sincere; but he too feels lost.

Luis is as bright as a button. He is excellent at football; and I have no question that in my society he would make something brilliant of his life. His intelligence shines though in every conversation I have with him. His family could not afford to have him, so at the age of 12 they abandoned him. He has noone in the world to turn to, so he came to our institution. He fears for his future, and at the moment feels trapped in what he considers our concrete prison. He is paying the price for his parents’ actions; the injustice of his life and the pain in his eyes often brings me to tears.

Children who witnessed their parents executed by rebels; others with stories of horrific abuse and neglect. Outside masks of laughter and smiles, insides haunted by darkened pasts.

I pray that God would teach me to pray for each of them. Teach me to pray for their hearts. Teach me to pray for their futures. For healing; deliverance; and peace.

God continues to give me strength and wisdom and opportunities to minister to the boys, and I have been fully grateful for His direction in my work.

One day one of the boys asked me if there is really a pot of gold at the bottom of the rainbow. I said no, but asked him if he knows why there is a rainbow. He had no idea. I soon found out that the boys know very little of the bible. They have missed the stories like Joseph and David and Goliath, stories

they need to know. They don’t know the promises of the bible, promises of future and purpose; promises of free salvation; promises like in Romans 8 of the inseparable love of God.

So a friend donated me a children’s bible, and each night we have enjoyed reading through the bible. We have read through creation, and Phillip and I acted out Noahs ark for them. They are fascinated with what the bible has to tell them.

So this is my life for now. I keep striving to show Gods love to children who don’t know love. I strive to build rapport and respect with them. I yearn for God to relieve them of the helplessness they feel; to put purpose and passion in their lives. I want healing for their hearts. Above it all I hope for them to have a close relationship with my Father.

The photo program continues to go well. They love to take photos, which we download on my laptop. Unfortunately one of my laptops was stolen (along with many other things, but that’s a story for another time), but my second laptop is fighting strong. We have been printing off the best photos and scrapbooking them, the kids enjoying countless hours of creating a memory book.

The beach trip is just about under way. I think we have JUST enough funds to go ahead, though it is taking a bit of faith for me to really step out and make it happen. I’m a little scared of taking 18 kids on such a big trip, but in faith we are making the arrangements for the next couple of weeks. We decided to increase the number of children going. Originally I was only going to take 15, but I was unable to exclude any of my kids from such a big trip. So I invited everyone, which I am pleased and excited about.

I’d like to commence my penpalling idea. I know I suggested it a long time ago, and some of you responded to the request. Can anyone interested email me again, I’ll give you the name of one of the boys and we can get that project started.

Please uphold us in prayer. Stories from afar become surreal; but reality smacks you in the face when you see it in the eyes of a child. Come and visit us. Write to these kids. But please uphold us in prayer.

Jon.