Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Playing Dad

I only recently turned 23, but in a couple weeks my son will already be 16 years old. You might wonder at such a strange curiosity— a father, that is, who is only seven years older than his very own child! I’m sure you’re wondering even now what accident of nature or miracle of science or manner of perversion could have been the cause of such an extraordinary family circumstance. In reality, though, my fatherhood was thrust upon me quite recently, quite dramatically, and quite unexpectedly here in Paraguay. In contrast to what you may be thinking, though, I certainly did not have a South American love affair with an Asuncion bell some fifteen years ago, and my long-lost and long-illegitimate Mestizo child born from a childhood tryst definitely has not recently surfaced to claim me as his own Gringo papa.

Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I don’t share even a drop of the same blood with my son, as he doesn’t look a spot like me. He doesn’t carry a hint of the icy sky-grey color in my eyes, the sensitive and easily-irritated pink color on my skin, the pointed slenderness of my nose, or even the trademark spare tire that I and many other Steidls I know grudgingly wear on our midsections. No, he looks much different than a Steidl. His eyes are as black as the pure coffee I used to drink in the mornings, his skin is as brown and smooth as a polished coconut, his nose is short, stout, and looks slightly squashed on its end, and, if these signs aren’t good enough to prove he isn’t my biological son, the definition of his stomach muscles prove that his ancestors’ people lived very different lifestyles from my own (with far less strudel to eat, perhaps).

No, he definitely isn’t my biological son. The real story is this: Christian left his terribly abusive home several years ago in search of a better life on the street. Here in Paraguay, that means his life at home was unbearably rotten to make him search for better by begging and scrounging on the street. When we were telling ghost stories around a bonfire a couple months ago, all the guys asked Christian to add to the repertoire by recounting the things he’s seen and lived through. Thankfully and miraculously, though, Christian’s real-life scary story came to an end a few years ago. After some time on the street he got connected with a Presbyterian church, got saved, and eventually wound up with good stable work in the auto upholstery shop of a lady who attended the Apostolic Church. Through her and another friend’s influence, he got connected to the AC church, became a member last year, and since that time has received a scholarship to attend Colegio Privado Adonai and finish up his four last years of high school.

The entire church has adopted Christian as its own, too, providing for his physical, emotional, and spiritual needs in many varied ways through many different families. Some give him lunch every day, others help him with homework, and still others pay for the little things that other children’s parents would normally cover. Every parent corrects him when he needs it, and every one watches to make sure he makes it church for every meeting. Right now, he’s living with me in the missionary house to keep me company and give him a sure place to stay, so I’m the closest thing he has and perhaps ever has had to a dad. I feed him breakfast and dinner everyday, keep the roof over his head, make him wash the dishes and clean the bathroom sometimes, and even give him a good lecture when he needs it. Although he’s incredibly mature for his age because of his tough life experiences, he’s still a young guy at heart and in need of a lot of guidance and mentorship.

If you think of it, you might pray for Christian and me. I have no idea what he needs by way of love or authority or friendship or security or whatever else. I still feel like an adolescent myself, and I’m basically in charge of one who comes from a totally different culture and with a totally troubled past. I’d trust him with my life and we are very open as we share together, but I’m totally clueless as an adopted dad. We’re both in need of a lot of grace together as we learn how to get along as a very dysfunctional and untraditional family. Please pray also for Christian’s future and his time in the church after I leave at the end of this year. There’s a lot of other amazing people who take good care of him, so he definitely won’t be alone or out on the street as long as there’s a church, but he also definitely needs stability and someone to invest in him long-term.

3 comments:

Karen said...

Once again, I thank you so much for everything you do for our little friend. I think you're great! Not only with Cristian, but with LOTS of Paraguayan (and Argentine) guys.

Anonymous said...

As the oldest in our quiver you have definitely been given the unique life experiences and wisdom to mentor this young man. Hope this parenting role gives you unique insight to the responsibility and constant second guessing we made over the years as your parents. I love you Jason.
Mom

liz said...

Praying for you and for Cristian.