May I Have This Dance?

As you can see from the pictures, we finished the painting project, and even the "God Wall", as it has been called. (This was the wall that we didn't think we'd have time to complete, which we completed along with two other walls we had no intention of painting.) The job was tremendous and we had MANY obstacles but God is never limited by our circumstances or lack of supplies. As we got to the end of the project, what was looming in our minds was the inevitable goodbye.

You should know one thing before I go on. This team had the opportunity to see something incredibly unusual. Yesterday, William was brought from a hospital, where he was deeply drugged to control his behavior, and welcomed at Hope Mountain. As he walked around in a haze, the boys continued with their regular lives, not making excuses for their loud praises, for the laughter they shared with one another, or for the fun they were having with us. William walked into this new place, with people he didn't know and was immediately entrenched in the culture of Hope Mountain. It is a culture of inclusion, not exclusion; it's a culture of love and not competition; it is a culture of selflessness and not selfishness. Imagine what he might have been thinking as we all headed to the mall for McDonald's. Imagine what he thought of a group of Americans wanting to engage him and love him. Please pray for him as he is weaned off of the medication and adjusts to life where he is loved, cared for, and given a second chance for hope.

So, back to today. After cleaning everything up, we stuffed ourselves with yummy barbecue on campus and had more time to just sit and hang out with the boys. We learned that a few of them wouldn't be there tomorrow as we say goodbye because they were going to spend Easter with a family member. And that's when the tears started rolling. One boy, Valdenir, had purposed not to get attached because he knew he'd have to eventually say goodbye, but clearly that didn't happen. As he started crying, so did some of us. Then it hit us: we have to say goodbye tomorrow. I think it hit some of the other kids, too.

When all of a sudden, what would appear but a song by Frank Sinatra which initiated a dancing circle. All we knew was that we thought it was time to go but some of us were taken by the hand and danced with while Frank Sinatra sang (via Edson's iTunes) "L is for the way you look at me..." Ironic, don't you think? It was akin to a country line dancing scene. There was swaying, twirling, turning, and loads of laughing. It was just so much fun. Then there were more tears. It was a terrific moment that none of us will forget. But it didn't quite end there. After that, three different prayer circles formed and three boys prayed for us. It didn't matter that we may not have know what they were saying. It didn't matter that they were teenagers. It didn't matter that snot was dripping out of our noses. At that moment, we were blessed by those we came to bless.

How do we go home? How do we tell our stories? How do we get those who haven't seen it to understand our experiences? We don't know but we will try so you can feel what we felt as we danced the night away.