THE LOST BOYS OF KLONG TOEY
The sounds of screaming and smashing glass jolt me out of the story I am reading Aiden as I tuck him into bed. I go outside just as another pepsi bottle is thrown smashing right at my door showering me in glass. I quickly close the door and watch through one of many spaces in our wall. A long standing neighborhood feud, between our landlord’s nephew and his mother, and my direct neighbors and good friends, has erupted again. Three weeks ago there were guns fired and knives drawn, this time glass bottles and knives but thankfully no sight of any guns.
The young man screaming and throwing the bottles used to be in our youth group his name is Gop. Sadly he has become quite crazed after sniffing glue and taking meth-amphetamines for the last year. As I watch Gops mother gather another crate of bottles for him to throw he is joined by our landlord who has heard the commotion and come to air her grievances. Now we have three people throwing bottles and shards of glass are everywhere.
I watch helplessly as the two families that we have grown to love the most, cower behind pieces of tin to avoid being hit. A large crowd has gathered behind Gop, as he continues throwing projectiles, as well as along the side of our house. I see 2 large machete style knives being waved around as someone yells during a lull in the glass throwing. I watch as three little kids 4 & 5 years old, wander into the fray as if it is the most normal thing ever. I watch another small child being picked up by a young man also carrying a large knife standing next to Gop.
My neighbors who are having bottles thrown at them gather momentum and start yelling and threatening Gop and his family, and I get a sense that this could really escalate and maybe will only end when somone is killed. (I found out this morning that the our landlords husband, had broken into my neighbors house 2 years ago and held a gun to her head threatening that if she called the police he would be back to kill her. I am glad I didn’t know that last night!)
Eventually four armed policeman arrive and try and calm things down. Sadly they are open to help the highest bidder. I venture outside to listen as the police try and sort things out. About 15 people are eventually taken off to the police station, some voluntarily others by force.
An elderly lady starts sweeping up the glass and apologizing to me for the drama. All a bit shaken I try to be of some comfort to the little kids who have been left behind while the parents go to the police station. Sadly this is exciting for the kids, they seem less shaken than me. A fairly regular experience in their sad little lives. For Gone (4Yrs) and Bang,(8YRS) they are just relived it is not them being beaten up for a change.
I really fear for the kids of my neighborhood. Growing up with this type of violence as normal is a disturbing view of what their future holds.
Jesus says” Let the children come to me for the Kingdom of God is theirs”. I so desperately want to make that happen, yet feel so powerless .How can these little ones come to God and experience his kingdom when life is just full of violence and fear?
This morning as these little kids straggled into our school, bleary eyed after the late night dramas, I felt so desperate to find a way to bring them into Gods kingdom. There are so many little boys that no one wants, or seems to care for, it is no wonder there are so many disenfranchised young men. When 2 and 3 year olds are left to wander around all on their own, unfed, barely clothed and starving of love and affection what else can we expect of them as adults.
As I sit and write this tonight I go to check on Gone as he plays outside the handicrafts room, he is my little shadow & I count 67 kids enjoying the space at the community centre. 90% of them are young boys, The lost boys of Klong Toey.
I sense God encouraging me as I see the smiles and the fun, as some play soccer, others learn guitar, Gone and his little friends sit watching Power Rangers on TV, and another group swarm over the playground like little ants at a picnic. Barely an adult in sight and it is 7pm. As I watch, I sense I am standing in a place of hope in the midst of despair, a place of joy in the midst of sadness, a place where the kids are safe, and can call it their own. A free space outside of the narrow, crowded, angry lanes where our houses sit packed together like sardines. God is here, He does care and He is showing us more and more ways to lead the little ones to Him. The rapid growth of the house church and our kids club is proof of that but greater still is the sense that great things could be ahead for these little lost boys. We can be here for them, modeling an alternative, broadening their horizons showing them a life beyond the invisible walls of the slum. Could these be the future leaders of God’s movement in this neighborhood? I even dare to dream that maybe we can break the cycle of violence and hate, one boy at a time. Our task as Christians here is to be the hands and feet of Christ and walk with these kids into a brighter future that only Gods love can offer them.
An immense challenge, an overwhelming joy, yet in my spirit I know it will be a long hard road full of tears speckled with laughter, many battles and maybe few victories but an absolute privilege and a real Buzz!! This is God’s work and it has only just begun.
Aiden, Gone, Bon & Emm. Mon, one of our helpers & boys. 
