When We Love Like That

I get a phone call one night from Tenele: “Mom, it’s not good here.  My mother is talking things again and she just want money.  She no want me here.  I’m going to leave at month’s end.” 

I’m not surprised.  Deep down I knew this was going to be the result, but I had hoped miraculously her mother would be different.  “When will you come back?  Where will you go?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly.  “But I will come to you first, I promise.”  She sounds so convincing.

Before long, it’s my brother’s last few days in Swazi and still no phone call or sign from Tenele.  We decide to plan a trip out to the bush to see her at the homestead, so I call her mom.  Her step-dad answers and tells me Tenele had left three days ago.

I’m confused.  Why wouldn’t she come here?  Especially since she was so excited to see Garret?

Later that night I find out from Ayanda that she is back in Mangwaneni…and trying to hide.

I turn livid. 

The following day we go to find her because Garret wants to see her, not me.  In fact, I stay in the car with Benny and Lucia while he, Rachel, Tony, and Ayanda search for her.  Almost an hour later, they finally return (after Ayanda had to coax and threaten Tenele to come to us).  

I see Tenele, but instead of my heart leaping, it burns.  Her eyes are not pretty.  I can read everything from her eyes.  I’ve said this in the past many times, that although she lies often, her eyes never lie.  And her eyes are now filled with evil. 

Sure enough, she barely greets me.  I ask her what happened, why she didn’t come to me like she promised; she spits out a response in SiSwati.  She turns to Lucia and starts saying nasty things to her and about me.  Luckily for me, I know some of the “naughty” SiSwati words and know what she is saying so I quickly shoo her away, demanding her to leave if she can’t talk properly.   She leaves.  As she turns away, she covers her face in her elbow and cries.  Garret jogs after her to say goodbye but my heart remains like rock.  I’m so done with her, I shake my head.  After all I’ve done… and she says those things about me?  And to Lucia?  No, I’m not putting up with her anymore...  I decide to myself on the piercingly silent drive home. 

I run a few more errands that day and return to the girls home at night.  Tenele is there.  Apparently she had felt so terrible that she walked all the way to the girls home to apologize.  She seems to be in high spirits with her kids and with the girls.  I am not. 

I am angry.  I am fed up.  I am finally done.  Once and for all.  Done. 

70 x 7… comes that still small voice in my head. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” I snort.  “God, you surely can’t be telling me to excuse her again.”

70 x 7…

“What am I supposed to do?  I can’t keep loving her, Lord! I just can’t.”

70 x 7…

I shake my head.  I hear Lucia whimpering outside my door.  Then I hear Tenele’s voice, “Sorry, Lucia, sorry.”  I throw open the door, grab Lucia’s hand, which is rubbing the tears from her eyes, and glare as hotly as I possibly can at Tenele.  Then I pull Lucia into my hug and slam the door on Tenele. 

To my surprise, Tenele opens the door and sits next to Lucia and me. Nope, can’t do it.  I don’t care anymore.  I don’t.  I try to convince myself as tears dare to form behind my eyes.   She tries to speak, but I turn away.  I can’t look at her.  She tries to speak again and I cut her off.  I yell at her.  I break.  She tries to comfort me by putting her arm around me and repeating, “Sorry, Mom,” over and over.  But I don’t care.  I had convinced myself that I was done.  I try to stay cold and unfeeling but the tears won’t let me.  She is what everyone told me from the beginning: hopeless. 

70 x 7.  Where yours ends is my beginning. Let Me begin again.   

I breathe out my anger and hurt.  I try to let go of my pride.  I fight the urge inside me to help her.  Tenele’s the one crying now.  And still, my heart is cold.  I want to comfort her, but I can’t.  She repeats over and over, “Mom, I’m so sorry I let you down.  I’m sorry I left Teen Challenge,” she speaks about Teen Challenge over and over.  “I can tell,” she starts to sob.  “You… you…you stopped loving me after I ran away from Teen Challenge.  I can see you are tired of me.  But Mom I love you.  I see you don’t love me anymore…” she cries. 

“Tenele, you don’t know what love is,” I say in exasperation.  I talk about God’s love.  She cries harder. 

When she calms down, she takes in her breath and faces me.  “Okay, Mom, I want to tell you the truth.  I don’t believe in God anymore.”

The knife to my already bleeding heart.  If seven years…SEVEN YEARS of loving this girl doesn’t prove to her that God is good and that God is love, then I’ve spent these seven years for nothing.  I’m crushed.  I cry.  I’m angry.  I cry out to God, “Is all of this a waste?  What have I done wrong?  How did this go wrong?  Did I really stop loving her?  Am I holding Teen Challenge against her?  What do you demand of me in this moment for her?  What can I say?  What can I do?”

Hosea.  Remember Hosea.

I grab my Bible for some wisdom, some solace.  I open to Hosea, to the place where Tenele and I began.  I flip open to the introduction by author Gene Giuliano Jr.  There.  There it is in highlighter.  He writes, “The story of God’s covenant relationship is contained in chapter 11…The prophet moves from describing God’s love for Israel in terms of a marriage to describing it in terms of a parent-child relationship.  When love is refused or ignored, the good parent, like the good spouse, continues to love despite being rejected.”   

Parent and child.  Redeeming Love.  Our story.  We read some verses together.  I am refreshed.  I’m somehow renewed but I don’t understand how it could happen so quickly.  My love for her is suddenly restored.  I smile.  I laugh.  How?  How did I go from yelling at her, almost hating her and hating the fact that I had to waste seven years of life on her to now loving her like she’s never done any wrong?  And I see the words again…

“Yahweh’s love for Israel is not only unfathomable but also powerful enough to regenerate.  And therein lies Hosea’s message—Yahweh loves like a new spouse, like a new parent.”

There it is.  I can feel God whisper to me, “Mary-Kate, stop holding Tenele’s past against her.  Let go of Teen Challenge.  Let go of every wrong.  I have forgiven her.  Stop judging her.  You are to discipline her, yes.  But it is mine to punish, mine to judge.”

I speak to Tenele what I’m hearing the Spirit encourage me to say: “Tenele, I’m sorry for holding Teen Challenge against you.  I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t love you anymore.  The truth is I was tired, I didn’t want to keep loving you.  But the love I have for you is not mine.  It’s God’s, so I can’t stop loving you.  I won’t stop.  In fact, we need to restart.  We are going to start completely fresh in our relationship.  I will not hold your past against you anymore.”

Some people don’t believe in miracles.  If you want to see one, forgive someone who has deeply wronged you.  Tell someone you will erase their past mistakes and love them newly, like God renews His love for us as a new spouse—the honeymoon spouse, and a new parent—holding her newborn like there is nothing greater in the entire world.  When we love like that, miracles happen. 

Tenele became a miracle again.  The two weeks that followed this moment have been the most incredible two weeks I have ever had with Tenele in all of my seven years combined!  God is so good! She is new!  It amazes me.  I can’t comprehend how deep and wide and powerful and high is God’s love for us.  This grace is miraculous. 

And God knows.  Oh He knows.  He knew what Tenele needed to hear from me; He knew how He needed to prepare me; He knew that I needed to let go of Tenele’s past.  Because her recent past involves a new life now forming inside of her again.  But this time, it’s okay.  I tell her the baby bump is beautiful.  And finally… she smiles. 

Hustlers

I know these streets so well.  I’ve walked them hundreds of times.  Yet, somehow they seem foreign now in the dark.  Nighttime transforms them into a world I do not know.  Nor want to know.

“Let’s just drive a couple laps around and pray for those we see,” Rachel comments.  It’s our first street night.  Since my brother and his friend Tony have come to visit for 10 days, Rachel and I take full advantage of having men around.  It was Rachel who arranged tonight, our first night seeking out prostitutes. 

None of us knows what we are doing or going to do.  Or what we might say.  My heart tightens with memories of four years ago and the dangers that came along with the ministry.  But that was a different place.  These are my streets, my home. 

It’s the library.  A place of safety during the day where people from around the city can enter into a world of wonder wrapped up in books.  But at night a haven for lust-drunken men, on their way in or out of town, who stop for a few moments of pleasure.  No one will know.  The night keeps them in a different life.  One girl later tells us that some of these men are sometimes policemen, who have beat them before in the day, when in front of their fellow policemen, but now at night, alone, they too pay for pleasure from a prostitute. 

We pass the library and see a few girls getting into cars and few on the street sides, laughing and holding bottles of alcohol.  “Honey, please don’t get into that car,” I say to myself as we pass a late teenaged girl talking through the window of a black car.  She gets in.  The car drives away.  When the car returns she gets out and finds another post on the side of the street. 

Garret and Tony decide to walk while Rachel and I stay in the car for safety reasons.  We drive a couple laps and come back to pick up the guys.  As we pull over to the side of the street, a few young women eagerly approach and then shutter back when they see it’s just Rachel and me. 

“Hi sisi,” I smile as the women frown at us.  “Do you need a ride home?” the words come quicker than expected.  The young woman looks puzzled and shakes her head. 

“A lift, do you need a lift home?” Rachel clarifies since they don’t understand ride. 

The first girl shakes her head no again, but the older one says, “Yes, please!”  And she jumps in the car.  Seeing her friend enter our vehicle, the younger one decides she’ll do the same.  Garret and Tony enter and we all talk together as if we don’t know what was happening.  They pretend not to be prostitutes and we pretend not to know.

The second street goes a little differently.  Our first pass at the library leaves us with nothing but empty, quiet streets.  “Maybe they’re not out tonight?” we say with childish hope.  But five minutes later when we make another pass, the streets are all of a sudden alive with noise and laughter and girls with short skirts and tight clothes and beer bottles. 

We pull over and ask a couple if they want a ride home.  One, bold enough to approach our car while the others shy away (and one jumps behind a pole to hide) comes to our window and laughs.  “A ride home?  No way, it’s too early.  Come back at half twelve,” she giggles and walks away. 

We come back at twelve-thirty. 

“Ready for your ride?” we ask as Rachel rolls down her passenger side window.  The girl who told us to come back leaps back in surprise when she sees it’s us in the vehicle. 

Her name is Dani.  She doesn’t get in.

But her friend looks at her and then to us and then to her and says, “Uyahlana” (you’re crazy) and gets into our car.   Dani pauses, unsure if she wants to end the night of work and finally decides to get in with us.  We pull forward a couple feet and two more jump in.  On the way to drop them off, we pick up a fifth. 

We have no planned conversations, questions, or objectives.  We don’t preach to them or quote Scripture or ask what they were doing.  Our only goal is to meet them and show them love.  And this night it comes in the form of a ride home. 

During the drive, the women talk freely, especially Dani.  She wasn’t ready to go home.  As we drop the first girl off, Dani complains that it’s too early and that work brought no money tonight.  The others try to hush her.  Two girls decide to get dropped off and keep working.  Dani lingers, not wanting to go home but not wanting to be back on the streets either.  We drop the second to last girl off and Dani finally agrees to go home.  Her friend in the front seat is upset, as she was trying to convince her to stay out.  The friend in the front seat follows suit and asks us to drop her off at home instead.  As we drop off the last girl, she enlightens us briefly on her life, her difficulties, and her wish to not be a prostitute.  “Once they find out we’re prostitutes, they don’t give us a chance.  But it’s like, we’re human too!”  She tells us about the policemen who beat them when they are all together during the day but at night, when they are alone, they come to the women to pay for sex.  “Please pray for us.  We need jobs so we don’t have to keep hustling.  It’s a hard life, ya know. Especially when you’ve got kids.”

Five years ago, Sister Mary Jane told me, "Maybe helping these young prostitutes is a life-calling."  I laughed then because that was not a dream or plan of mine.  But I ache now to help these women, who have indeed become a life-calling.  

Please join us in praying for these women and that our ministry can grow financially so we can hire women for our workshop ministry!