Save Our Streets Ministries Newsletter

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Isaiah 53:3a

As the years go by, many pictures flash across our hearts that bring back memories of love and pain in the way that God has allowed our paths to cross.

I can remember like it was yesterday. He was one of my heroes. At 12 years old, Adrian always had all 3 of his brothers and his 4 year old sister Sarah ready. No matter what the church function was, he was ready and waiting on time. On Sunday morning, dressed in their Sunday best, they would quietly step over passed out parents and beer bottles left over from last night's party, but they were ready with smiles and excitement. His coaches at school spoke very highly of him. In fact, they had many dreams for him because he tried so hard in school. He was always so polite and kind to everyone, especially his little sister, Sarah.

Then one night during a tent revival on Beck street, some kids called me out, and there was Adrian holding a crowbar, panting for breath with blood stains on his clothing, his hands, and the crowbar. I sat on the curb as he desperately tried to explain to me through his tears how his dad was beating his mom (which was a regular scene) and he lost control. He took the crowbar from his dad and began defending his mother, and then he couldn't stop. Then I saw rage enter his countenance. I reached out for him, but he pushed back and said, "I tried it God's way, and it didn't work." He threw the crowbar, said, "I give up," and ran away. I sat on the curb and just cried to release emotions. I felt so defeated. What could I have said? What could have done to prevent him from saying that?

I didn't see him for months, but I heard he was on the run. He was doing it all: sex, drugs, and whatever else was offered to him. He was hard and cold. I couldn't reach him. He wouldn't even let me near him. He was convicted for breaking into a store and beating the store attendant with - guess what - a crowbar. He was incarcerated and then placed in a foster home. His brothers were also in and out of Juvenile correctional centers. I ran into his sister a year ago. She was hard. In fact, she didn't even know who I was.

But on Christmas, Adrian would always call to wish me a Merry Christmas. Often times I wasn't home, so he'd leave me a short message but never a phone number. He'd always sound so lonely, so alone.

Adrian called me the other day. He said he was lonely and just needed someone to talk to. He talked for several hours, and I listened. He's never had a girlfriend since he left, and although he almost lost his life in a car accident, he decided God had given him a 2nd chance. This time he wanted to make a difference. So he was doing counseling for problem boys. He is a subcontractor in construction sites, a trade that his foster parents taught him. Then he talked of all the hatred that the had held in all of those years. He cried and cried. He said that that was the first time he'd done that since the then revival because he would never let anyone hurt him again.

I felt God's love so powerful in me that all I could say was "Adrian, I love you, and I know that you know that. That's why you called me. But most of all, Jesus loves you, and perfect love is reaching down to you." I explained the gospel, and for the first time, he said he saw his need to forgive. He said, " You know, I thought I would always help others out, but I've never really seen the need of my own life. And now I'm gonna hang up, because now that I understand, I need to talk to God."

Adrian called me again. He sounded really cheerful. He came to Bryan and visited His mom for the first time in 6 years. He laughed as he said, "She held me and cried out loud, but she didn't care." He saw his brothers, too, and decided that he needed to move back to Bryan to help his brothers straighten out their lives.

It's sad to say that, like Adrian, it often takes time before some of us are able to hear and receive this transforming love. But I always check my messages. Maybe today it will be Mary or Virginia or Jeanette . . . Because I haven't given up praying all these years for them, either.

Carmen Sifuentez