A personal memorial for Justice

Twelve years ago, Justin, a/k/a Justice died from an overdose of heroin at age 20. When we read in the paper about a young addict dying, we often brush it aside as "just another junkie" who tempted fate once too often. But all of those junkies were living stories and Justin's was a part of my story too.

We met at Teamworks when he was 15. He was smart, but guarded. He had become an addict at age 10 when his uncle gave him his first taste of drugs as a birthday present. Justin would come to the Bible study Matt and I lead there, but would often sit back and just take it in. A turning point in our relationship and in his relationship with the Lord happened when both of our best friends, David and John D., drowned on the same day. I remember sitting with Justin trying to work through how that could happen and how much it hurt. Knowing that John had a strong faith helped me and I was able to share that with Justin.

When his time was done at Teamworks, I remember telling him I loved him. His reply was "yup." I smiled.

After he left Teamworks, Justin struggled with his addiction. He would get better and then relapse. He always kept in touch and would come over to the Straight Ahead discipleship home with me when we had weekly Bible studies. After the studies, I would bring him home and sometimes, we'd sit in my car for hours talking about faith and life. He was a complex and deep young man. One time when I picked him up at his grandmother's house, he handed me a book and asked if I liked Yeats. "The Irish poet? Ya, I guess", I responded, a bit shocked. "You?" I asked. "No. I love Yeats." This from the same kid who could hang out in the worst neighborhood and know everyone on the street.

In the year before he died, Justin and I would meet each week and he would call me each day. A few weeks before his death, Justin found his Bible opened to Psalm 91 and was freaked out as that had been his ex-girlfriend's favorite chapter in the Bible. He asked if I thought it was a sign from God to him. I said that I think that the Lord had been after him for a long time. After that, his faith and his heart were even deeper.

The last time I saw Justin alive was a week before his death as he was waiting to get into a rehab center. As I was leaving, he asked me to buy him cigarettes and I said no. He smiled, gave me a big hug and said, "I love you." He had started doing that each time we met or talked.

Over the last 12 years, on this day and on his birthday, I would call his mother Liz and Deb, as she also knew and loved him. I had left messages for Liz last year, but I didn't hear back from her.  Recently, I found out that Liz had passed away last year. With both her and Deb gone, I guess I needed to write this as a memorial to them and the precious young man who was not just a junkie. 

"For He will give His angels charge concerning you, to guard you in all your ways. They will bear you up in their hands, lest you strike your foot against a stone." Psalm 91:11-12

Calls

David a few years ago.

One constant in the last 21 years in this ministry has been calls from "kids" whom I've gotten to know at the detention centers or in the juvenile prisons. This past week, I was able to speak with several of those guys. Some of them, like Justin, are doing great and just want to check in to see if I'm still alive over here in Ukraine. Others are from guys I haven't heard from in a while, like David, who called from a southern state where he is now living in the woods with some other homeless guys. David has had a tough life from the get-go and we met at one of the detention centers years ago. He used to come with me for Christmas, Thanksgiving, and other events as he was a ward of the state from a young age. He has had many diagnoses, but he's a good guy and he keeps in touch--even if it's after a few years of no contact. David assures me that he is OK, but it's hard to think of him living like that. I guess Jesus did it, but it was in a bit of a different context.

Me and Yur in June

I was over a friend's place last night, when I got a call from Yura. He had been working construction for a month, with his boss telling him he would be paid "next week". His boss took off and now Yura's going to be homeless. "Can you help me?" was his question, one that's also been a constant over the years. Often times, I feel helpless, but that gets me praying and directed towards the One who can help.

Today, I'm the one making calls to see who can help Yura. The blessing is that Yura's faith is strong, as it has been since he first prayed in the juvenile prison 8 years ago. The hard part is that he is down as it's just one of numerous hits in his young life. Please keep Yura, David, Justin and all of the guys in your prayers. There's a reason why Deb used to call them our Keepers: they are gifts from the Lord.

Pain

Much has been written about the power of pain and how we need to go through it to grow. All that's true, but I still hate it. We'll all go through pain, and it will transform us, but the issue is how will it transform us? Will we be like the Psalmist and say "weeping may last for a night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning" or like Sarte who said, "Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance. "

Kolya at work

Most of the kids we are blessed to work with have lives that would crush many of us. Yet most of them move on, find ways to cope, and find love and hope. One of the guys who lives in the small house with me, Kolya, is a talented artist. He grew up in the internat after being abandoned at an early age. He came to live with Bogdan and Anya, then decided to do his own thing. He ended up on the streets, homeless and alone. After a period, Kolya realized what the Lord had given him and what he wanted. He came back, was welcomed back, found faith, and now helps out with the other kids here.

Kolya and his gift for me.

Kolya's paintings and drawings often have children in them that reflect what was and what could have been in his own life. They show the pain of the past is still there, but they are also an outlet so that pain does not control.

His other paintings are mostly from Scripture and show strong figures from the Bible. I think that they are a reflection of the strength with which the Lord has blessed Kolya.

Hands and Feet

A couple of weeks ago, Lydia, Sergei, Alla and I went to the juvenile prison to do the Bible study and to spend time with the guys. Since "our" colony will be one of the four that remain open, more and more guys are coming. At the study this last time, about half of the twenty guys who came were new.

After the study, we ended up going outside into the "zone" where the kids stay and we saw a bunch of new faces. I love when we go up to the guys and start speaking with them. After some initial hesitation, they start to talk and will even ask questions. We always invite them to come to the study and many take us up on the offer.

As we were getting ready to leave, Sasha, one of the regulars, was hanging out with me and we were making fun of each other (ya, I can be cocky even in Russian. It's a gift). When it came time for us to leave, he grabbed my hand shook it, and and then gave me a big hug. At first he made light of it like it was a joke, but he didn't let go. He had done the same thing last time. He then went and gave hugs to Lyidia and Sergei and then we went out. As we were walking, he kept pace with us on the other side of the fence, prolonging our visit for as long as he could.

It hit me once again that these guys have few to hug them, to put a hand on their shoulder or to listen to them. What a blessing it is to be used by God as His hands and feet, even for just a few hugs. "And they were bringing children to Him so that he might touch them:..." Mark 10:13.