Return a Girl to the Court: Part 2

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Gabriela* sat with me in the office crying out and saying that her mother hit her all the time and told her she was garbage. “I want to kill myself,” she declared emphatically. Those words sent a chill down my spine. Would we have to return a girl to the court for her own safety?

“We are here to help you and keep you safe. We are not your mother, and you need to understand that we love you. You are not garbage but a special creation of God.” I tried to encourage her, but her mouth drew into a pucker as she rolled her eyes. I knew defeat when I saw it and sent her to her room. After she had left, I alerted everyone to make sure she stayed in time-out until we decided where to go from here. She made a threat on her life, and that couldn’t be taken lightly.

To me, dealing with difficult behavior is an individual matter. Every child has different issues going on, so I didn’t feel it fair to treat all the children the same with the discipline and the same text-book counsel. Working with many children didn’t allow the ideal to be a reality. I had difficulty accepting that as I pondered about Gabriela, thinking that somehow we failed in our promises to help her. Lord, I need Your wisdom. Help me to see with Your eyes.

Life did calm down for a few months, but the school reported problems from time to time. Gabriela would kick or slug another girl. She stole items, and the lies were constant, but these kinds of things were normal for several of the new girls. However, in Gabriela’s situation, the frequency of them became a strong signal to me that we didn’t have the resources to help such a mentally distraught child. Lord, help us to help her. She’s a victim. 

Four months after her arrival at Shadow, the house-father shared his concern for his pregnant wife. Gabriela had threatened to harm her and their unborn child. That complaint fell right on the heels of a call from the directors of the school: “We have another problem here. Gabriela put a big scratch across the refrigerator and then hit Tia Elena (the cook) when she tried to stop her.”

With hurting hearts, Joanne and I decided we had to send her back to the court for a different place of residence. I looked at the other twenty-seven girls living with us and the responsibility we had for their well-being. It still tore at me that we couldn’t help this girl who cried out for help, but we had exhausted our abilities with zero results. I had to let her go, and I mentally placed her in the hands of the Lord.

With all the arrangements made, the judge asked that someone from Shadow take her to the new place of residence. Raul and Cyndi agreed to take her. When they arrived, they were appalled at the depravity of this Home. As they took Gabriela into the residence, they heard a comment, “Oh it’s you, you’re back again.”

It is never easy to return a girl to the court, but there are times when it is in the best interest for all of the other children. I consoled myself that someone else might have the right key to helping this hurting child. I’ve learned not to take it personal and to trust that the Lord can take this special person down the path that will bring him or her to a desire for attitude change and healing.

*Name has been changed.

Return a Girl to the Court

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I looked at the great team of people we had at the orphanage and the many hours they committed to working with the children. My mind reviewed the resources we had available to us as we encountered and dealt with each child’s individual issues. All of this felt good until it came time to return a girl to the court because we couldn’t reach her.

Gabriela* lived a difficult life before coming to the orphanage. Her grandparents participated in witchcraft and beat and abused her with knives, machetes, belt buckles, and whatever else lay close by. The stepfather sexually abused this twelve-year-old. Another piece of my heart ripped out when I heard that her mother committed suicide. In her desperation, Gabriela ran away from home to find her biological father. She did not have his full name and had only the zone number in Guatemala City where he might be living. The police picked her up off of the street and took her to the children’s court. Her bold actions told us a lot about this girl and the strength of her survival instincts. Lord, show us what we can do to bring love and peace into her heart and to guide her in the right direction.

This pretty, round-faced, dark-eyed imp started acting out immediately when she entered the orphanage. We didn’t see the usual “honeymoon” period. When the house-mother heard a ruckus in the bedroom and investigated, she found that Gabriela had gone berserk. She cut up her shoes and aggressively ripped her clothes right in front of the house-mother. Joanne dealt strongly with her, but a few days later, Gabriela took a sharp kitchen knife and chopped at the end of a wooden table. The “tia” (aunt) in charge of the children couldn’t get her to stop.

“Mama Carroll, I need your help quickly!”

I jumped up from my desk and saw Gabriela butchering the table with a paring knife. “Gabriela, please come here,” I asked in a calm but firm voice. Oh, Lord, help me to distract her from what she is doing and get the knife from her. She ignored my command, so I moved toward her and grabbed her arm. After removing the knife from her hand, I guided her to the office.

“What you did puts you and others in danger. You are never to put your hands on a knife. Do you understand?” My loud voice covered up the shaking I felt on the inside. “Answer me, Gabriela!”

Eyes can tell us a lot about what is going on in a person. The blank dark eyes that looked at me revealed a lost child who had huge walls around her heart. Her survival tactics consisted of anger and violence, which appeared to be a warning that nobody would break through those walls. Would we need to return this girl to the court because we lacked the ability to minister to the needs inside of her? The next few months would give me the answer.

*Name has been changed.

Protection and Guidance: Part 2

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As I waited for Gerber to come fix my tire in a dangerous location outside of Guatemala City, I remembered a time when I came home and noticed a white powder-like substance on the tile floor. What kind of animal leaves something like that? I looked up, and there was a small hole all the way through the ceiling and roof. I checked the floor and found a bullet slug that had rolled under the couch. This happened twice, with the second one coming through the ceiling and hitting the metal kitchen sink. I did some research on the internet and read that “terminal velocity” is when a bullet is fired straight up and then falls to the earth again, accelerating until it reaches a point where its weight equals the resistance of the air. This gives the bullet enough energy to bore through materials like a roof. Yes, people have been hit, injured, or killed by this act. I don’t know if the neighbor liked to celebrate or practice shooting his gun, but I have two 9mm slugs in my jewelry box that didn’t get me.

The Lord gave me protection and guidance just as He promised. Two dear brothers-in-the-Lord, Gerber and Raul, determined that I needed to move, and a few months later, a house became available for me to rent. Listening to their wisdom, the Lord guided me to a place that offered more security, no steep stairs, and a living area that was all closed in with an automatic garage door. This house even had a full set of kitchen cabinets. Something I never had in my past homes.

My thoughts continued while I waited to be rescued. Lord, it is my fault that I’m in this situation. I tell our missionaries that they need to travel with a companion, and I didn’t follow my own advice—Ms. Independent. I knew about the safety of traveling in pairs. I looked out the side window, and there they were. Two police officers in their black pickup pulled up beside me. The stern faced passenger rolled his window down with his rifle ready to aim and fire. Oh, Lord, help me to know what to do. I saw an alertness that would be followed by action if I didn’t do something. I remembered that they could not see me through the tinted windows. Against my resolve not to communicate with the police, I rolled my window down halfway. The seriousness on their faces changed to relief when they saw this white grandma facing them. I sighed when the rifle lowered, and the driver said, “Señora, you need to move your car. This is a very dangerous place to be.”

“I understand that, Señor, but I have a flat tire. My friend is on his way to help me,” I explained.

“No, Señora, you do not understand how dangerous it is for you to be here alone,” insisted the driver. He opened his door, signaled to his partner with the rifle to watch the highway, and came over to the car. He looked at the tires and found the one with a hole in it. Feeling a peace settle over me, I climbed out of the car. The officer told me he would change the tire, but I needed to get back in the car. I obediently did that. Watching the younger police officer guard us made me feel safe. The testimonies from my earlier remembrances encouraged me as I recognized the protective hand of God. He used these two men to guard me and change the tire. My trust level went up greatly on the scale.

With the cute little donut tire replacing the flat tire, I could now meet Gerber in the next town. “Thank you for helping me, Señor. I believe that the Lord sent you, and I truly appreciate all that you have done.”

“You are welcome, Señora. It’s a privilege to help you.” With those words and a slight smile, he signaled to his partner, and they hopped into the truck. I drove onto the highway, rejoicing that something so dangerous ended well. My two angels wearing badges followed me all the way to Jutiapa, where I met up with Gerber.

As a child of God, I see God’s protection and guidance on a regular basis in my life and those around me. I’ve grown greatly in trusting my life in His hands. One will probably never reach the “Perfect Ten” in trust, but I desire to get as close as I can and not allow fear to dictate to me.

Protection and Guidance

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My heart rate shot up when I heard the dreaded pop of the tire. With a death grip on the steering wheel, I drove slowly around the mountain, looking for a space big enough to pull off the highway. Lord, I need your protection and guidance. What should I do? Several yards from the devastating hole in the highway, I saw a large area, pulled in, and grabbed my phone. While I waited for an answer, I looked around for landmarks to explain where I could be located. I had left Guatemala City two hours ago. I knew one thing for sure: This area had a reputation of being a dangerous section for robbery or worse. Being alone, white, and female made me a prime candidate for such activity.

My voice quivered, “Gerber, I need your help. I have a flat tire, and I’m sitting on the side of the highway in the Corona area.”

“I’m on my way!” said Gerber, heading to his car. “I can be there in about forty minutes.”

I took some deep breaths. Calm down and think. I got out of the car and viewed the damage. I quickly dismissed the idea of changing the tire myself. It was not a wise choice in light of the danger. Tell me, Lord, what I should do. I returned to the car, locked the doors, and put on the hazard lights. With dark windows, nobody could see inside the car, and I wanted people to know the car was occupied. With the uncertainty of there being ethical police officers in the area, I determined not to respond if any came by me. I had a full tank of gas, a good battery, and lots of daylight left, so I tuned into the music on my iPod and prayed.

Many times I had counseled with the girls about fear and trusting the Lord during fearful times. Now, I found myself in the time of a big exam. Thoughts from the past fluttered into my mind. I remembered the time when a young man got shot and killed as he walked a short distance from my house. I had heard fireworks and similar noises that night, but it didn’t register that they could have been gunshots. In the office the next morning, someone asked if I knew what had happened and if I saw anything. “No, I heard the loud firecracker noises that seemed to last for a long time. I shut my door to block out the commotion, thinking that someone had a big birthday celebration going on.”

That afternoon I went outside and found a rifle cartridge about three feet from the other side of my living room wall. My heart skipped a few beats when I realized the seriousness of the situation. The gossip about town said this was an act of retaliation. I slept with my bedroom door locked every night, but this particular night I had to check a few times to make sure. I felt fearful, thinking that I might be the next victim if the person who committed the crime thought I saw anything. Scriptures of the Lord’s protection began to flow into my mind. I repeated those aloud, ending with, “I am under the shadow of Your wing.” Peace moved over me, and I slept well that night and after.

After thinking about that experience, I looked at the time on my phone. How disappointing to see that only fifteen minutes had passed, but I felt a peace flow into me. The Lord would protect me now just as He did after the shooting. Fear no longer had its hold on me, and I refused to give into any thoughts in that direction. I laid my head back and slipped into another memory of the Lord’s protection and guidance.