This is Kayde and she is a senior in my youth group. A few days ago she asked me and a few friends if we would go with her to look at the home she grew up in. I knew she lived in poverty but I didn't know it was this bad. The house was probably about 15 miles into the heart of the Marianas. These are mountain communities that people who are escaping the brutal realities of life tend to find appealing. It's an escape from community but it's also an escape towards sickening amounts of drug and alcohol abuse. She wanted us to see what she came from.
The home was on top of a hill that other than the building itself and massive amounts of trash may have been otherwise pleasant to view. The home isn't ever locked but rather open for squatters to find a warm place to sleep. Inside there are rat droppings, hard liquor bottles and pictures of naked women everywhere. Kayde said that growing up it wasn't uncommon for them to go for some time without electricity and running water.
As disgusted as I was seeing this place I was moved by the fact that Kayde was proud of her old place. It was the home that she grew up in and loved. The family was forced by CPS to move because there were too many dangers on the property. Her father has since died of Lou Gerhigs disease and you could tell she misses him. It was a moment of grace for me to realize once again how blessed I am to have the family that I have. I am very proud of how God has grown Kayde and chosen her to be his own. Stories like Kayde's keep me going in ministry. This is why I do what I do.
