A Whole Lot

If you’ve talked to me at all about my time in Argentina, you’ve probably heard about Rodrigo. In his mere three weeks at Funda Cor, he’s managed to steal the spotlight nearly every day with temper tantrums that make even Devil Child look angelic. Allow me to give you a brief overview of his short time at the hogar (Spanish term for children’s home).

Rodrigo is six years old. He arrived on June 13th. Two women brought him with his little duffel bag and asked him if he wanted to meet the other kids. As he shook his head, I felt like I was watching some sad movie or perhaps looking at Eeyore in human form. But that was the last time his behavior inspired such thoughts.

The next day, Rodrigo had already warmed up to the place. They weren’t going to stick him in school upon arrival, so he stayed home in the morning with the little ones. He played with playdough and colored while chatting away as if he’d been there all along. Suddenly, though, I turned around, and he had his hands around Alexi’s neck. I let out a cry of alarm and rushed over to save the day. That was just the beginning of a very long morning.

Although I have no idea what set him off, during the next hour or so, Rodrigo screamed, cursed, kicked, punched, and did whatever harm he could to anyone who came within several feet of him, not excluding curious 2 year olds. He flipped tables, threw chairs, and kicked the walls. I’d never seen anything quite like it. And that was just day one.

Over the next two weeks, he’s had many similar episodes. During his second week, he stole a box of matches from the kitchen and attempted to build a fire. Confiscating those was quite a fiasco, and it ended with one of the women having to pin him to the floor for about twenty minutes before he finally calmed down. He also threw up about 6 inches from my face when he didn’t like what was for lunch and forced the older kids to relocate their homework time to a locked office where they would not be disrupted. He took off running in the backyard while pushing the 4 month old in her stroller, and he nearly threw a rock at my head from about a foot away. But wait, there’s more!

Last week, he broke the supply cabinet by repeatedly kicking it, ripped a wooden door off a cupboard to use as a weapon, and attempted to climb over the ten foot iron gate on the porch. He also smashed the telephone and then ripped it off the cord attaching it to the wall.

This week has been more of the same. On Monday, he threw his shoes at my head when there were no weapons nearby and then tried to break the legs off a plastic table when I was too tired to give him another piggy back ride.

Basically, the kid is a wreck. But when I stop and think about it, so am I. I may not push down little kids, but I certainly take my anger out on others when I’m in a bad mood. I may not knock over tables, but I’ve certainly yelled at inanimate objects (apologies to my little computer, Pepito). And although I don’t lie on the floor screaming for 30 minutes at a time, I certainly sulk for a while when things don’t go my way.

Really, I bet all of us are a lot like Rodrigo. We just try to hide it. There’s a problem, though. We can’t hide it from God. He sees our hearts. And he STILL loves us. A whole lot.

So next time Rodrigo throws a fit, I’ll remember that. I’ll remember how God loves me and how God loves him. And I’ll love him too. A whole lot.

*Coming soon: LOST!  The story of my brief adventure in Uruguay*