Lebanon #8: Home of Hope Beirut

Compare Jesus’s words in the book of Mark, tenth chapter, fourteenth verse, and echoed in Matthew and Luke, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these,” to the words of a juvenile court judge in Beirut speaking of street children: “Why do you care? They come from the streets and they will return to the streets.”

We spent the morning at the Home of Hope Beirut, a ministry of the Lebanese Evangelical Society, which also oversees Blessed School, which we spoke of earlier in our trip. The words “home” and “hope” are linked together here in the most blessed way. Home of Hope is a one-of-a-kind ministry in the densely packed city of Beirut and its surrounding area. Abused children – sexually, physically, emotionally – who have been living on the streets, many trafficked, are placed by court order in their loving hands. There are currently nineteen here, ages 7-18.

Trauma is something we have seen before here, usually from visiting refugee camps. This is trauma at a whole other level. The stories we heard here have shaken us to the center of our beings. Glass doors at the entrance are shattered by family and traffickers trying to reclaim these children, to put them back to work on the streets, selling flowers or gum or their bodies, to make money that does not benefit the children.

At Home of Hope, it may take years of working with them through counseling, psychotherapy, regular meals, schooling, and vocational training to move them to an understanding of this place as their home, instead of the prison they initially thought it to be. It is a hard journey, but dedicated staff like director Rhagida Al Assal, are people of hope. This is a residential facility. Rhagida lives here, and so do her two teenage children. Although after four years she is moving on to the next thing God has in store for her, her love for these abandoned and abused children is clear.

This ministry opened its doors for us to see the newness of freshly painted walls and beds made by the children, but also the scars it bears from their anger which they have let out on walls and doors. How do you move them from anger to a feeling of family? Love. By letting them come to Jesus through the hands and feet of residential staff who teach and counsel. It is the only way and it takes time. This is the work of the kingdom.

And like everything else spiraling downward because of the corruption of governmental officials, this ministry is endangered by a lack of resources. Although the budget is approved by the Ministry of Social Affairs, the Ministry of Finance is up to five years behind in any funding. Five years! They have been carrying on through in-kind donations, like food from the Lebanese Food Bank, and through donations from those who know of their work. The Outreach Foundation has come alongside them, and we were graced to be in their presence today.

Although there are such hard stories to hear, there is also hope. It was evident to us in the artwork covering many of the walls we walked by. Many of these paintings were of the natural world: mountain views, forests, celestial bodies, even a butterfly, that marvelous symbol of transformation. They were all signed with only a first name. This tender young man is fourteen years old, and in four years has had one of those amazing transformations. [We met him but can not share his name or photo to protect him]. Working through their process, he has had vocational training in barbering and has become the most sought after by staff for his skill in cutting hair. We met him today. Shyly smiling in the presence of American strangers, he looked us in the eyes and did not turn away.

The judge asks, “Why should you care?” Jesus – the Home of Hope – answers, for to such as this belongs the kingdom of God. May the prayers we raise for and with them rise to the God who does not slumber.

by Julie Burgess, for the team