Soiled Beauty...

I recently took a couple girls with me to pick up a new child. I did it because I needed help, but didn’t know God had planned it to bring healing.

Sitting in the government office “Negra”, one of our girls, and I began to notice the awful conditions. Half of the building has no roof top. The bathroom has a  hole in the ground as a toilet, but no sink. The office desks are held up by cement blocks.  Chairs with no backs. It is sad to think that the office which is providing help to kids in need is in such poor conditions. It makes me wonder what the government homes are like?

Negra and I looked at each other and spoke with our eyes trying not to offend any workers.

The head of the office began to pull out files on kids currently in our care and kids he wants to place with us. He asked me to review them and consider others for our project. I asked for the folder containing the file of the girl I was waiting to pick up. He pulled out her file. I began reading the papers on the fourteen year old girl that had a 17 month old baby. “Twelve and pregnant?” He nodded yes. “By who?” I asked as though I am surprised. Like it is uncommon. He told me to keep reading the file. The fourth page in I noticed the babies birth certificate. Both last names matched the mom. I looked harder wondering if it was coincidence. The next page I found the sentence. The girls father was sent to prison. Sexual abuse. “Poor child.”

The girl came. Timid and shy she said nothing. Just cried. She was placed in a temporary home until the sentencing of her father was final. The baby was born in the care of the foster mom. I felt awful breaking up the bond that was created over the past two years.  More than awkward. I felt sad and angry because it feels as though I am breaking up a home. The case worker assured us all it was for the best because we are a long-term care taker not just temporary like the foster homes here. The tears streamed down each of our faces and after getting situated in the car I began to make the more than two hour drive back home.

My head hurt and my heart ached, I was thankful for the awkward silence that surrounded me.

Then, she began to talk. Not the new girl, but Negra. “Mama Lauren, that was hard. It brings back SO many memories.” I can only imagine, I thought to myself. “I cried the whole eight hours on the bus when I left home.” She told me how puffy her eyes were. She told me how bad her head hurt.. Thinking it probably hurt like mine did in the moment. I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep. It was five o’clock. I hadn’t eaten. I had no water. I was emotionally exhausted. My vision was blurry from my headache. And Negra continued to talk.

She told me how she didn’t even know she was pregnant. She said her mom knew because she noticed that she hadn’t cried in pain that month. She had a disease that made her period very painful. She said she didn’t know what was happening when a gush of water came out. She was in pain and rolling on the bed next to her sister in the night. Her sister asked what was wrong. Negra hit her in the head and told her to shut up and go to sleep. Rolling and crying with contractions and not knowing what was wrong she turned the light on. Her mother yelled at her from the other side of the room. “STUPID! Go outside and have that thing in the field because I don’t want you to mess up my home!” She began to crawl out of the house as her drunk step-father came home. (He was also the father of the baby.) The mom yelled for him to take the prostitute some place else because the creature was coming out and she wanted nothing to do with it.

Negra now in her dirty, wet, blue dress began to walk with her abusive step-father to the doctors. They sent her to the nearest hospital. Sitting in the waiting room the doctor asked Negra why she was having a child so young. She was only fourteen. Then he asked who the father of the baby was. Negra looked at the old man by her side as he pinched her from behind reminding her to keep her silence. She said nothing. The doctor told her to go take a seat until a bed was emptied. A few minutes passed and Negra began to vomit. A nurse told her to go knock on the doctors door because that baby was coming. The doctor took her to a sheetless bed. She was told to take her soiled blue dress off and given nothing. Alone with just the nurse and doctor she pushed the baby out. Two hours later, scared, crying, and naked, the nurse finally offered a hospital gown after realizing nobody was accompanying the little girl with her baby. The doctor, seeing that she had nothing, went out and purchased a few items including a diaper and socks. Negra was also given a baby blanket by another pregnant woman. Finally feeling a little comfort she went to sleep for the night.

The next morning her mother came for a visit. She told her the child was ugly and told her she should have never given birth to it. Negra, needing to use the restroom, tried getting out of the bed. Weak and bleeding she fell to her knees. Her mother laughed. A nurse walked in and told the mom to help her child. The mom scolded Negra for embarrassing her and putting on a show. Mom left angry, and Negra sat waiting for the doctors release.

When she finally was given permission to head home she put on her soiled dress and headed towards the hospital gate. The guard asked where her proof of payment was.  She had not paid. She had no money. She had nothing. Just her blue stained dressed and a baby that was crying. The guard told her to take a seat and wait for someone to come get her. She began to cry. A few minutes later the guard called her over and told her to leave. He would get in trouble if he was caught so she needed to go quickly. Negra began to make the four hour walk back to her house. She knew something had to change. This wasn’t the life she wanted. When the baby was three months old she decided she had been through enough. She got on a bus and headed to a place where she knew no one! Through a series of events God had provided for her and He opened doors for her. She came to the Gates of Hope. After sharing her story with me she looked at me and said, “ I just don’t know why. Why? Why do any of these things happen? Why did I have to go through this?”

God has been working it out and He has a purpose for placing you where you are at right now! I can’t tell you why! I can only tell you that I know you are not the only one. You know different. You know there is a better way! You are a lucky one! Now what are you going to do about it? How are you going to use it to help others?

No matter what your past is… The history you are trying to hide needs to be embraced! It has helped mold you into the beautiful person that you are. Let it become part of your ministry!  Don’t ignore or try to forget your soiled dress. He makes beauty from ashes!