Dominican and Haiti Updates

Last week was the infamous G.O. Basketball week here in the Dominican Republic!  I had the privilege of watching my husband do what he has grown to be so good at.  I wanted to post a blog entry about how incredible the week was with the campers and the Americans who came to serve, but another G.O. staff member beat me to it, and quite honestly, I am so glad she did! She painted a much better picture than I could have.  Thank you Goody for the post you wrote below.  We are grateful for you!

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"you could hear a pin drop. and in a country as loud as ours, that's saying something. you know when you can tell something big is coming, whether you know what it is or not, something in you just knows? all your senses hone in on what is taking place before you. you are acutely aware of how people are positioned, where they are looking, who is drawing the attention. you wait in anticipation for "the event" to occur, not yet knowing what exactly it is going to be. i was waiting, expectedly.

the young men that surrounded me, somewhere around two hundred of them, were fidgety. some of them knew it was coming too. others didn't want the words to be spoken. still others were waiting for the charge. to be part of something bigger than any of them even knew possible. because in reality, nobody ever really expected anything of them anyway.

i could hear it in Will's voice. he wasn't going to shy away from this conversation. he knew this was the moment. he knew a week like this was his platform. God's platform. Will knew that if he wasn't bold, if he wasn't real, if he didn't hit them where it hurt, then all of this they'd been doing would have been wasted on deaf ears.

he started to talk about fathers. risky subject. maybe you or i have a pretty good picture of a dad because we grew up with amazing ones. but these boys don't have that good fortune. a majority of the fathers here are the furthest thing from what a father is supposed to be. and when i say majority, i'm not exaggerating a statistic so you'll be blown away; the cold, hard truth is good examples are few and far between. they abuse their children, beat their wives, drink incessantly. and that's if they are around. most "fathers" are but a vapor in the wind. you only speak of them when signing official papers or are enlisting in school and the school officials need to know your father's name. do you know a couple dads like that? i know twenty; and they all live on the same street.

so when Will brought up their fathers, for most of them it was like opening a wound they would rather just put a bandaid on. but Will wasn't having it. he knows that if something doesn't change, 99% of the kids sitting in that room would grow up to be just like their fathers. abusive. deadbeats. criminals.

Will asked them to raise their hands if their fathers drank a lot. more than half the hands in that place shot to the roof. the others raised their hands, not physically, but with a disgraceful expression. "how many of your fathers hit your mom?" less hands went up this time but their expressions went from disgrace and shame to hurt and angry. "how many of your fathers hit you?" only the hands of the younger boys stayed up. the older ones know you don't let others see that kind of truth. "do you want to be like your dads? do you want to follow in his footsteps? do you want to abuse your kids and beat your wives and get drunk every night?" i could hear the quiet sound of influence passing over the crowd. the sound of sniffing and tear-wiping began too.

something incredible happens when a person is empowered. when they realize they have expectation. it ignites something in them. they suddenly feel like who they are now doesn't have to be who they will always be. change is a powerful thing.

there was this moment when i could barely see through my own tears and i watched as Will's eyes welled up too. i realized THIS is God's redemption plan for this island. maybe the young men who are here, listening, will change the course of an entire community. maybe looking back ten years from now we could track a new generation of husbands and fathers to this very room. maybe, all it took was one guy from louisville, kentucky to charge these boys to be Men of God. and almost as if it were rehearsed, when Will asked this room full of broken boys if they wanted to be Men of God they chanted back at him, "Hombres de Dios," with fists raised in the air. not because they were expected to or they would win a prize if they did it really loud but because the flame was lit and the torch was passed and for a room full of boys, the buck was stopping here."