Author Archives: Carroll

More Men With Guns

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Who would have guessed that there would be another adventure with men and guns?

The “Hawaii Five-O” scene played out when a shiny sports car zoomed up within inches of the front gate of the orphanage. Out jumped two men wearing black pilot-type sunglasses and dressy business suits. They adjusted their jackets as they scrutinized the area, as if they expected to be attacked at any moment. The cook and I watched from the kitchen window, puzzled, but immediately concerned. We hadn’t been notified of anybody coming for a visit. Were they coming to the orphanage? A tapping on the gate with keys answered that question, so with a prayer, the cook and I went to the gate. One of the men said they wanted to see one of the children—Lila*. I explained that the children were in school, but they insisted on coming into the house anyway. No way am I letting you past this gate. They must have heard my thoughts because one of the men handed me a court document giving them permission to come visit the orphanage. I had to honor the order. They came into the kitchen and looked into the living room, as if they were checking out a place for rental. It confused me, because I didn’t know what they were looking for, and they didn’t say a word. One went down the hall to the bedroom, and the other one leaned forward looking out the picture window. A bulge of his gun showed under his jacket. It set my heart racing. Were they mafia or drug lords? Keep us covered with your protection, Lord. I knew that if one had a gun, so did the other. However, after the quick perusal around the house, they seemed satisfied with what they saw. They said adios and left as quickly as they came. That stirred the cook and me up really well that day, but the story wasn’t over.

We kept the official document that gave these men permission to see the child, and it turned out to be a forgery. The court had no record of this document. A few weeks later, the court called for an audience and requested that we bring Lila in on a particular day. The man who had given me the false document turned out to be the child’s uncle, and he spoke English. He sure didn’t use it at our first visit. The judge acted as if the false document didn’t exist. In the process of the court audience, the judge stated that the uncle would be given custody of Lila. After the audience, I went over to him and asked him why he lied to me with the forged paper. He just smiled, took the hand of his niece, and left. I felt thankful that no harm had come to anybody, but I was disturbed at the wide range of corruption in this country and its affect in the lives of the children. This may or may not have been a case of bribery, but it added another dimension to what we faced in the work of the orphanage.

Thankfulness filled my heart for God’s protection. This story could have gone in a different direction, but we put God in control, and He proved His faithfulness to us once again. I grew in trust with each experience, and there were many more coming my way.

*Name has been changed.

The Police Visit

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The day after we received the three girls, the court called about another thirteen-year-old who would be transferred from another orphanage into our Home. The administrator and friend of another orphanage had recommended us for custody. When she arrived, she looked like a beanpole with kinky matted hair and sad eyes. Paola reminded me of an abused kitten looking for someone to hold and pet her but ready to run in a minute.

I took a deep breath and looked at this growing family. I felt the overwhelming need in their lives for love and protection. I cried out to the Lord, because I knew I couldn’t give them all that they needed. The emotions I felt with the arrival of each one tore at my heart. I decided at that time that I could cry, and I didn’t need to be tough. I just needed to realize that the power and might came from the Lord Jesus Himself. I prayed a prayer that I would repeat over and over. Lord, do not let my heart be desensitized to what these children are feeling. I need to feel their pain so that I will stay motivated in helping them in any way you lead me.

Later, when in the kitchen, I heard screaming from the upstairs bedroom. I glanced out the kitchen window and saw a man and woman standing outside the gate. The Guatemalan helper went upstairs to deal with the girl who screamed, Xiomara*, while I went out to the front with our cook. Xiomara’s parents had found the orphanage and decided they wanted to visit with her. I explained that none of the children could receive visits until they had been in the Home for six weeks. The children needed time to adapt without any outside interference. I looked at the father and wondered why Xiomara needed to live with us, when he sported a big gold necklace around his neck and wore rings on his fingers, and both he and his wife were dressed well in modern clothes.

“If you don’t let us see our daughter, we will go to the police,” yelled the mother.

“I’m sorry, but I already explained that I can’t do that,” I calmly replied, even though I shook like a leaf and watched every movement they made. What if he has a gun? Lord, protect us. 

The couple left, and I breathed a sigh of relief, but that was short-lived. A short time later, I looked out the window and saw a lot of activity and eight policemen in front of the gate. Oh goodness, Lord! I think I’m outnumbered. Send more angels. You said you would give me what I need when I needed it. Show me the right things to say, Lord, and please keep me out of jail. I put on my bold face and walked out to meet the captain. He glanced up to see Xiomara in the bedroom window screaming, “Mama,” before someone moved her to another room.

Out of all the men, one wore an official-looking brimmed hat, so I went to greet him and the other men. When he introduced himself to me, he confirmed that he was the one in charge. My Spanish ability stretched beyond what I thought was capable. It took several minutes for me to communicate the situation and why the couple had to wait for six weeks before they could see their daughter. “Captain, Sir, they are the ones who took her to the court for placement in an orphanage, and now they want to see her before the allowed time.” I stood firm in what I said, and, in time, the captain saw our side. He told the parents that they would have to follow the policy of the Home.

Moving toward the car he said, “I will take them with me, and I assure you they will not come back to bother you. Thank you for what you are doing.” They all left, and I couldn’t get my legs to function to take me back into house. I think every bit of adrenaline had been used in my body. Lord, this whole orphanage idea is turning into quite the adventure. Am I right that more is coming this way? If I had truly known what was coming, I think I might have run the other way. Its good that the Lord doesn’t usually tell us in advance what His plan includes. I’m learning that it is better to take one day at a time.

*Name has been changed.

The Court System

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We became a legal orphanage, prepared it to rescue children from the streets, and nothing happened. The courts did not know of our existence, and it became our responsibility to get the name of the orphanage into the court system. We sent out invitations to judges, social workers, and court officials to an open house. We invited them to view the facility, listen to our vision for the children, ask questions, and make comments. Since I couldn’t do much communicating, I shyly stood behind Joanne with a big welcoming smile for the few women who responded. The introduction process to our mission worked, and the calls for child placement began to pour in.

At this time in Guatemala, the government changed the process for putting children in orphanages. Due to illegal adoptions and corruption, all children were now processed through the court system. The old process allowed a homeless child to be placed into a Home without any question of legality. But now, for the security and safety of the orphaned and abandoned children, a stricter custody process was implemented. Learning the policies and procedures of the court system in working with children moved to the top of my list. Lord, I don’t know how to pass this obstacle without your help. Send me the people I need to show me the way through this third-world system, and give me the ability to comprehend the Spanish.

The call from the court came, and my heart jumped. They had a thirteen-year-old girl named Xiomara*. Could we come to the court and pick her up? With plans in place, a board member, our Spanish helper, and I went to the court. Taken back by the number of people who lined the walls waiting for their turn with the judge, I kept telling myself that with God’s help we could do this. The noise of screaming kids and loud voices bounced off the concrete-block walls, and the court official had to yell the name of the next person to enter the offices. I held tightly to the documents that showed the legality of the orphanage and that we had government approval. It took effort to get the attention of the court official within the mob, but in a short period of time, I had a court order for temporary custody in one hand and the hand of Xiomara in the other. I floated out of the building thinking that we had reached a major goal. We had our first official girl!

We returned to the orphanage, and later that afternoon we received a second call for two more girls—sisters. My last visit to the courts had been successful, and I knew this one would be too. I didn’t realize these trips would be filled with emotion. I walked into the office of the magistrate (changed to the title of “judge” a year later), and my eyes swept the scene in front of me. Two girls tightly held each other as they sobbed. On the other side of the magistrate’s desk appeared to be family members also crying and moaning. I glanced at the magistrate, who nodded in the direction of the girls. I immediately put my arms around them, pulling them into a hug. Their response broke my heart as they literally clung to me.

I found out that the mother had brought Lorena* and Mari* to the court because of sexual abuse from her boyfriend. The unsuspecting girls did not know the reason for the “visit” to the court. Right before I walked into the room, the magistrate had told them they would have a new home with us. Lord, have mercy on these children. They are the victims, and I see the pain in their eyes. With heavy hearts, the girls and I went to the orphanage, where we began intense counseling.

Still wired from the experience of the day, I evaluated my emotions. I had felt so prepared to work with these children. I desired to help them feel that they were now part of a family. Suddenly, I felt very inadequate. How could this mother give up her children for a boyfriend? This showed such rejection. How would I help bring healing into these three lives that I was now responsible for? The Lord reminded me of the power of love. These abandoned children needed to feel that love and know that they were safe. They needed to know about God’s plan for their lives.

*Names have been changed.

A New Testimony

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After the initial realization that I would be working with two children, I recalibrated my expectations as a mother. A totally different set of issues changed the scene. Jorge* continued to struggle with respiratory issues and developed pneumonia and asthma, which required much attention to keep him from going to the hospital. Leti* basked under the attention that she received from her teacher, who came faithfully, teaching her to read and write. I took over the care of Jorge but explained many childcare ideas to Leti. We began a rhythm, which will be greatly changed soon.

Talking to Leti about her growing-up years gave me a glimpse into the lives of some of the children we would minister to. With a better understanding of what these kids endure, those of us at Shadow would be better equipped to facilitate the process of healing.

“Leti, why are you taking those scraps of meat out of the garbage?” I asked as I watched her pop them into her mouth.

“It is a sin to put them there,” she said. I learned that it was rare for her to have meat when she lived in the village. It upset her to see those little pieces thrown into the garbage. She went on a crusade when she saw food items being put into the trash and announced that we needed to give them to the hungry people on the streets. This was a great idea, but not easy to put into practice.

I probed into Leti’s memory banks about her mom and family life. She shook her head and said she didn’t remember much about her mom before she died. What she knew came from other members of her family. Leti described a loveless existence with her grandmother, who became her primary caretaker after her mother’s death. Someone told her that coffee usually filled her bottle, because the lack of money prevented the purchase of the badly needed milk. Her grandmother had a distillery for making alcohol, which brought in a little money for supporting the family. She gave Leti the alcohol to drink, along with her diet of coffee, bananas, and, at times, tortillas. At the age of ten, Leti’s grandmother died, and Leti shuffled between an older sister and her aunt in a life without love and care.

The wounds ran deep in Leti’s heart. We spent hours talking and praying about the Lord Jesus and the plans He had for her life. Leti wanted Jesus to be Lord in her life and hung onto every word shared about Him. As she poured out her fears, I found myself relating to some of the things she experienced. She confessed that she didn’t have anyone in her life, except for Joanne and I. I had, in times past, feared being alone. I understood the seriousness of what she shared. Leti had never received any signs of affection from anybody until she came into the orphanage. I couldn’t believe someone had lived sixteen years and never had a hug. I felt a tear in a portion of my heart.

“Leti, you are a child of God. Now you have a testimony of how you were lost, and He found you and brought you to this place.” Thank you, Lord, that you put the lonely in families. “One day, you will be sharing this hope with others when the Lord brings them across your path. Your testimony will show the power of His love for you. He brought you to this place of refuge for your healing and to prepare you for your future,” I explained. The Holy Spirit moved greatly in this young lady, as she exposed more of her heart. My words were reinforced by counseling from a pastor, his wife, and Joanne. The Lord had her surrounded by love, but just like with anybody else, there would be times of progress and times of stepping backwards.

We shouted “hallelujah” when James Project of Latin America/Shadow of His Wings Orphanage became a legal association in November 2001, and the doors to the orphanage opened. We followed the next steps to make ourselves known in the court system, in preparation for receiving children. This would definitely not be an easy path because of the lack of fluent Spanish. Lord, I continue to need your help with all of this. You will make a way for me to communicate with the judges, because you said you would give me everything I needed when I answered your call.
*Name has been changed.