You won't, So I will

I have written a couple times about being able to utilize the tap out, how when I reach my limit, I am so thankful that there are people who I can ask to step in who love the children and are able to cover for me. When my physical and emotional strength are failing me, many times, I tap in Derik. Derik is one of our program coordinators so his job is to step in when we are running out of options and attempt to solve any problem that we are up against. His life is one weird, crazy situation after the other. He is also important because many of our kids have been abused by men in the past. His job is to be a functional father figure to kids who have only seen anger and pain from the men who previously filled that role. Derik and his wife Adelfa love our kids in tangible ways and are teaching them through word and deed how to respect a spouse, love a child, and be a competent adult. When Derik was talking to me about the possibility of wanting to blog, I jumped at the chance to have him write a blog for me. I am so glad you all will get a different perspective than the one I can give and get a glimpse at the heart of a great man. So without further ado, here is my first ever guest blog post from Derik Ramos. 

You won't, So I will. 

All my life I have been taught that I needed to work hard, get married, and have kids.  There where other stipulations too like graduate high school and go to church every Sunday. I have always thought that I would be a great father and cannot wait to do so. KIDS!!  I work at a youth ranch. I have worked in child care for about thirteen years and have seen several kids come through my life. This week I was honored to be a part of a Quence (a girls fifteen year birthday party). I was given the special privilege of dancing the father daughter dance. The song she picked was Cinderella by Steven Curtis Chapman. It is an absolutely amazing song. In the song the daughter ask the father of he approved of her dress.  The resident spoke with me a week before I heard the song asked me if I approved of her dress. I said yes I did and then when I heard the song, I almost cried. 
I know at this point some of you may be thinking what does this have to do with kids? I can say with a hundred percent honesty that I feel like these kids are mine and I would do anything for them. You can see it in their eyes and their actions that they love us back. A connection has been made, where before adult connections came with conditions and with strings. Here there are not strings. We want, and encourage real, and whole heartedness. We push away fake and destructive and want to build and mold for the future.  
Ok ,so I am a part of this Quence that is being held for a fifteen year old who should be having her real father there. He should be standing waiting for his beautiful daughter, dressed in a gorgeous purple dress, to be handed to him. I watch as the patchwork that makes up our village comes together to throw this girl a party. I watch her walk up and I shake the gentleman's hand who is walking her up to me. I look as she beams with pride and joy to be handed off to me. To me! Someone who is not her father, not even her blood, but will be here for as long as I can and she allows me to. 
As we started to dance to the song she looks at me and says "it's ok to cry, but if you do I'll cry too". I quickly informed her that I would not be crying and we continued dancing. (side note. Cinderella by Steven Curtis chapman is a LONG song). For the entire song I had to focus on different things around the room to keep myself from crying. I began to think about this girl's father and how he would be so proud and impressed at the beautiful girl she had become. How he should be the one to twirl her around and knock of her tiara and then start to do a funny dance so she would not be embarrassed. I poured my heart into this dance, like it was the dancing with the stars the season finale. No, we didn't get much further than a couple of twirls, but I put my heart into it. I began to think about all the residents on the ranch and how I need to be the example for all of them in all aspects of my life.
I need to show the boys how to treat a lady and the girls how a lady should be treated.  Not as a piece of meat or property, but prized and adored. I need to show the kids how to handle themselves on a daily basis with class and dignity; not some sassy person who cannot control themselves and ends up with no direction and no purpose. I need to show them how to just be a decent person and not continue the cycle. That when they hold that baby in their arms someday, that precious gift that they have is something that should not be taken for granted; it should not be left aside of neglected. It should be brought up with the best intentions and shown how to be a positive and productive person. Their parents have made this responsibility a joke and refused to do it well. They won't so I will. 
I will be the best I can. I will show that even though adversity will knock you on your butt and laugh at you while you wonder what happened, that your emotions will push you around like an eighth grade bully, that no matter he circumstances or the mountains that are in your way, you can make it. We don't have hope in this life alone and we don't have hope in ourselves alone. We have something that is greater than us. We believe in a God that will support and hold you in his arms. In your times of trouble he will be your shield or your way of escape. He will hide you in his arms and nurse you back to health. I will teach them to read their bibles and ask questions. Always ask questions. No matter who it is, or what it is, find out what's going on. I will show them that a man can love a child without having a negative motive.  
I am lost in these thoughts when she asks me to twirl her again. (I told you it's a long song) I twirl her realize that I would protect her with everything I have. I would giver her everything she needs. Not so people can pat me on the back and say good job, but so that she can see there is good and love in this world. So I dance, with my focus jumping around the room so I won't let this wonderfully made daughter of mine see me start to tear up. Through all this another emotion pops up. Sadness. Sadness for the gentleman who is missing out on this wonderful dance. I wonder where is he? I wonder, what he is doing? What kind of life is he leading? Does he miss her at all? Did he wake up this morning and have her on his mind because it's her birthday?  Did he ever wonder if this is how his life would end up without his daughter there with him? Whether from some selfish desire or inability to stop a behavior he lost her. I wondered all of these things and thought "he won't but I will". I woke up excited about this party excited about getting to dance and dress up to show that I care about what she wants. Excited that she allowed us to be a part of an important part of her life.  
So sir or ma'am I don't know who you are and to be honest I don't want to, but you have a daughter that woke up this morning. Although I'm sure she thought about you, and maybe cried and wished you where here, I was able to dance with her and see her smile. I saw tears well up in her eyes. I saw her laugh at funny stuff that happened today and before she left the cafeteria where her party was, she hugged me and said "I love you". She walked with me arm and arm to her van and I helped her get her all her presents that where given to her in the van. You sir or ma'am are  missing out, and it may be rude of me to say, but it's your loss. But your loss, is my gain and I will have and cherish the memories that you could have made.
"This song is taking forever". I make a joke, but in reality I would have danced it again had she asked me to, because that's what dads do. They dance with their daughters to a song that is hitting every emotion I have in me.  Finally the song ends and I hug her. I hold her close. I pray in my head ( because if I would have talked in that moment I would have cried) that God will give me the wisdom and understanding to help assist the residents I work with to see his amazing wonder; to see that their condition is not their conclusion.  I hope they see that sometimes you literally have to wait on the Lord and see what he will do. I let her go and much to the disappointment of the residents surrounding us I have no tears, but I do have a happy and content heart.  

Wolves amongst Sheep

"I trusted him."

"I thought it was what I deserved."

"It is how some people show love."

"It's not like anyone else wanted me."

"He made me feel like it was my fault." 

"Everyone loved him." 

"Who would believe me?"

"He was nothing like the people I had been warned about." 

Can you pick out which statements were said by girls in my unit and which ones were said to me by girls I consider to be my close friends? There are an alarming amount of people in my circle of friends who have experienced sexual abuse in some form. Some choose to identify it as rape, some use the word abuse, but either way, I have more close friends who have been abused, than I do friends who haven't. That is a scary conclusion to come to. 

I work with girls who have been abused and come from poverty or abandonment. They have had parents who thought drugs were more important than they were, or have had parents who are not mentally capable of caring for another human being.  I know girls and women who have been abused who had caring, involved parents. They went to college, were on teams in high school, went to church on Sundays and Wednesdays and were not thought to be "at risk". From what I have observed, there is not an age, race, social class, level of education or level of involvement that completely protects one from the danger of being abused. 

Some of my girls in the unit look like "typical" abuse victims. They have sad stories attached to thick files in which some bad person took advantage of them. It can be easy to picture yourself as different than my girls,  pitying them from your educated, elevated state where the civilized people are; until you realize that the person who grew up next door to you, with the perfect family Christmas card every year, has an abuse story too. 

There has got to be something wrong with the message we are giving. So many of my friends and some of the girls in my unit, were abused by someone who was, or even still is, a prominent member of a church. Some are even in leadership still today. So what do we do friends? How do we change the message we are sending?

I grew up in a church and there were a few times I can remember being separated, boys in one room, girls in another, and someone talking to us about sex. One of my best friends was kind enough to give me insight into what was shared in his room. His message basically consisted of someone telling him to be a leader, not to masturbate, and to conquer all urges with prayer. Mine was a little different.
I remember someone telling me how sad it would be if I had to apologize to my future husband on our wedding day for being incomplete because I had fallen into sin and had sex with a boyfriend before I got to the altar. I was told I needed to watch how I dressed so I wasn't tempting my male friends. I was also told my virginity tied into my self worth. There was a horrible demonstration where someone unwrapped a present  and then re-wrapped it multiple times and set it next to an unopened, beautifully wrapped present. We were then asked to choose and told that if we had sex, we would be the shabby package. God could forgive us, and we still had a present inside, but we would always be damaged. Wow. 

This issue wasn't one I personally struggled with. I moved to a new town when I was 15 and felt like God was telling me this was not my time to date. I made friendships but never felt like that part of my heart was mine to give away. This stayed that way until I was about 23. Then I felt like God was opening that part of my heart. In the midst of my depressive spiral, it was the last thing I wanted. I then began to struggle with the pain of not being pursued by any of the guys I knew or met. As I was plagued by new insecurities, I was having a conversation with one of my friends. She said something about how men are sexual beings and women are emotional beings. I nodded along, because I had heard that somewhere as well, but then the oddness stuck me. 

Men can be emotional. Women can have urges. I have male friends who have emotional struggles everyday and struggle to communicate that to a world that expects them to be tough and to lead. I have had female friends who have struggled with issues like pornography and sex addictions and felt like they had no where to turn because they weren't supposed to struggle with that, men were. We need to stop telling boys they can't be emotional and start talking to girls about what to do when you have physical urges. 

We need to stop making sex such a taboo subject to talk about. The media, movies, music videos and young adult fiction have no problems addressing sex, but in a church, we only talk about it in the smallest forms. My mom opened a dialogue with me when I was 13 about what was happening to my body and emotions. That conversation kept going. She told me not to be embarrassed or ashamed and that she was there to answer any questions I might have. We had some awkward conversations, but I am forever grateful for them, especially when I think back at all the other messages I was being told. 

Somehow, we are allowing wolves to hide amongst our sheep. We are allowing church to become a place where predators can hide and victims feel voiceless. We have created a dialogue that allows those who have been abused to feel responsible and those who abuse to feel free to continue to do so. I don't know how we change this. I don't have any grand solutions, but I know something has got to change. Whether it is the ability to make people feel free to talk about what is honestly a struggle for them, creating a place where the abused don't feel the need to cower, or modifying our message to both better equip the men and women we are raising. we have to do something different. The way the system is now, where so many feel voiceless and afraid, only continues a cycle that brings no glory to God and has no place in our lives. If we are going to call ourselves brothers and sisters, we have to step up and begin a conversation that might be difficult, but is not one we can afford to ignore any longer. If you are a parent, check in with your kids about where they are and what they think. If you work with children or youth, make sure the messages you are sending out are helpful. If you don't fall in either category, pray for those who do as they seek to change a pattern that has no place here.