Adullam House

Yesterday I went with a group of people to help out at a children's home named the Adullam House. The children there all have mothers in prison. Their fathers are MIA as well. The entire experience was fraught with mixed emotion for me. As we drove up, there were children running and playing on the front lawn. At first glance, it seemed like any other normal home.

We went there to play with the children or do whatever else was needed in order to give the staff a short break for a few hours. Upon our arrival, we learned that there are many volunteers. Some groups come from other cities and may stay for a couple of weeks at a time. They also help with the children as well as doing construction work around the property. They are in the process of building additional housing and a chapel.

The day we went, the place was a flurry of activity. Children and adults were everywhere. Inside. Outside. Cooking, cleaning, playing, working. It was almost too much for me. I am still trying to take it all in. They have children ranging in age from 4 weeks to 15 years. In speaking with the director, I learned that she had just received a phone call from the prison telling her that another mother had gone into labor. So they were expecting another new born.

The scene we saw when first arriving, one of children running and laughing soon became one of sadness for me. I took up with a 3 month old little boy named Jacoby. In fact, I carried him around almost the entire time I was there. I got to rock him, feed him, be thrown up on by him, change him and put him down for a nap. As I sat gazing at this beautiful baby, I couldn't help but think of his mother. I wondered what she was doing at that moment as I rocked her little boy. Was she sitting in her cell thinking of him? I wondered if he looked like her. I wondered if she wanted him. How long would it be before they could be reunited? I wondered what it must feel like to be a mother and know that someone else was holding your child. I think it must be one of the most torturous things to endure.

At one point I took Jacoby onto the front porch. As I sat there in a rocking chair, we watched the older children run and play. Another little boy came and crawled into my lap. Another volunteer sat opposite me in another rocking chair with another small baby. I began to watch the children and the volunteers. As I watched, one thing I noticed were the grandfathers. We had 4 that went with us that day. My heart melted as I observed these men serving these children. Bud and Melvin manned the grill, cooking lunch for all these people. Mark ran around tossing the football with several of the boys. Dick sat under a tree talking to a teenager. Another guy that went with us was sitting in the grass with probably 10 children around him as he talked to and played with them. Others were blowing bubbles and throwing frisbees.

There is something about seeing a man play with a child that really gets me. I guess I'm not that moved when I see women interact with children because it is in our nature. I see women caring for children all the time. But to see these men, especially these grandfathers taking time to come and help these children - for some reason, there just are no words. There is something different, something special about a man's influence over children. Look at all the statistics regarding a father's presence in the home. I am so grateful for the example of those grandfathers. I hope to someday marry a man that has that kind of servant's heart. I hope God will continue to supply men such as these to those young children. I know their lives will be forever changed by it.

As we drove home that day, barely two words were spoken in the van. I don't know if everyone was tired or what. As for me, my mind was simply overwhelmed. I had many emotions swirling around inside. Partially I felt extremely guilty because I was relieved to be free of the madness of activity. I LOVE to be around people, but I can only take chaos in small doses. I can't imagine living in that environment full time. I am so glad that God has gifted people to be able to do that. While we were able to leave, those children weren't. I felt very torn in that moment, and still do to a degree. Part of me doesn't want to go back. I don't want to face that again. It hurt me too much. On the other hand, I feel like I could never do enough. I know we are each gifted and called to minister in different ways. While I know that living in a children's home may not be my gift or calling - my heart breaks for those children. Knowing there is so much to be done, so much love needed - I feel guilty that I am unable to do more. Letting go and perfectionism are some of the things I need to work on (but that's another blog altogether!). It ripped me up inside to experience this, but it also helped me to get outside of my own world and expanded by boundaries a little.

I saw God working in so many ways today. It's so true that we are all parts of the body of Christ - each serving in his own way. Whether it was serving quietly behind the scenes, running like mad in the middle of a pack of kids, being barfed on, blowing bubbles or speaking a kind word, each hand was a blessing. I know this work will be life-changing for these children, but it will be life-changing for us as well.

Please keep these children, the full-time workers, the volunteers and the finances in your prayers. This place is run entirely on donations and faith. Many times building projects have to be held up until enough money comes in to start work again. I am amazed and humbled by this ministry. I praise God for the Adullam House, and that these children are safe, fed, dry, warm and loved tonight.

"So David left Gath and escaped to the cave of Adullam. Soon his brothers and other relatives joined him there. Then others began coming - men who were in trouble or in debt or who were just discontented..."
-I Sam 22:1-2a