Tonight broke my heart.

It was my turn to hang out with the boys 12 and under tonight. We have a devotion time each Wednesday night and usually I have a copy of a kids Bible and I read them a few stories. They forgot to leave the Bible out for me so I decided to tell them a bit of my story. About growing up Christian and thinking that Jesus walking on water was normal. And that turning 5 loaves of bread into baskets and baskets of leftovers was normal. It was then that I was reminded by more than one child that there was also 2 fishies. :) But it ISN'T normal. It is amazing and miraculous.

I shared a few more things and decided to get personal with them. Most of them were actually listening attentively. And then the floodgates opened. Each child started sharing some of their family background or experiences in other children's homes. About the older brother who would "get into bed with him every night". About the mother or father that hit with small pieces of firewood. With iron. With their fists. It went on and on. It was almost like they were trying to outdo each other. With tales of horror. They went on to show scars and explain where they came from. I purposely avoid asking where scars from as I really don't want to hear the story. It wouldn't be some daredevil trick they pulled off on their bike. It wouldn't be from falling out of a tree they probably shouldn't have been climbing. They are mostly inflicted by others. The people they are closest to in life. The ones responsible for their emotional and physical well-being.

These sweet boys, who sometimes drive me crazy, have seen and experienced more than they ever should. I kept having to bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from crying. I wanted to erase everything from their memory. One boy was telling me terrible stuff with a big smile on his face. It is how he gets through it. How he deals with it. It wasn't fun. But if he doesn't smile, what would happen to him?

And what do I say in return? Some of these kids are not with us permanently and may have to return to that situation. It just gets hard sometimes. I love these kids so much. And I hate that they have to live with those memories and scars for the rest of their lives.