Cookson Hills
By Ruth Schenk | .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)
Sierra King, 17, wants to be president someday.
Not bad for a “Cookson Hills kid” who suffered horrific abuse and neglect while growing up.
She recites a litany of horrors in such a matter-of-fact voice that it seems they could not possibly belong to the charming, friendly, articulate teenager telling about them.
“I had one mom and 50 dads growing up,” she began. “I happened one night when my mom was 15 and my biological dad had too much to drink.”
She tells of days growing up without food, electricity or running water, and weeks when her mom was AWOL.
There were years when her mom was drinking and drugging and living with abusive boyfriends whom she said took advantage of her and her younger sister.
Being the U.S. president never crossed her mind those days. King focused on survival.
Cookson Hills Christian Ministries became her lifeline in June 2010, a turning point for a kid who had nowhere else to turn.
For the fatherless
Cookson Hills is a new partner of U.S. Missions at Southeast. Several short-term mission teams already have served on the 1,000-acre campus in the foothills of the Ozark Mountains in rural northeastern Oklahoma.
Last week, a team from Southeast worked in blistering 100-degree heat to build a meeting house for the ranch, refurbished and organized the store on campus and painted apartments.
They ate meals with Cookson kids and even challenged them to a volleyball faceoff.
Eugene DePorter, head of U.S. Missions at Southeast, said the partnership with Cookson Hills will allow the church to reach out to hurting children.
An alternative to the government foster care system, Cookson Hills cares for about 100 children who live in a family setting with house parents whose job is their life ministry. There
always is a waiting list. Referrals come from churches and families.
Rick Bayless, the executive director, has a long history at the ranch. So does his wife, Melinda.
“When something happens to separate families, we want to be there to offer something of eternal value,” Rick said. “Restoring children and families in crisis to a life-changing
relationship with Jesus Christ is what we do. When children come in and instantly become part of a family that lives their faith out loud in front of the kids, lives change.”
According to Rick, it costs $280,000 to care for a child in the state foster care program. At Cookson, the cost is $28,000 per child per year. The ministry does not accept state or federal
funds.
“I know how it feels … ”
As the Student Life Coach on campus, Melinda meets with every child coming into Cookson Hills.
“I am you,” she begins. “I know how it feels to be taken from your family, to live with people you have never seen before. When you feel like crying, come into my office, because I have lived
this life. I understand, but I will be harder on you than anyone here. I refuse to let you be a victim.”
Melinda arrived at Cookson as a 9-year-old.
Her mother died when she was 2 years old, and her father could not care for his seven children. He married seven times in seven years.
People at a local church called Cookson Hills about the children. At first, Melinda hid food in her pockets in case she didn’t get another meal. For the first time she could remember, she
had people who cared for her and talked to her.
Rick Bayless moved to Cookson Hills in the eighth grade when his parents joined the staff. He and Melinda were high school sweethearts who married after a year at Ozark Christian
College. Over the years, they were foster parents to between 40 and 50 children in addition to their two biological children, Jared, now a physician and Matt Bayless, who is the worship
leader at The Post, Southeast’s ministry to twentysomethings.
Life at Cookson Hills is busy but orderly. Children attend school on campus where they progress at their own speed, receive counseling, participate in the equine therapy program and
attend one of four local churches in the area.
“When the Lord starts healing people, they take off,” Rick said. “We see real healing here.”
Maybe president someday
Soon King will leave Cookson Hills for college. She’s thinking about being an English teacher if she doesn’t reach the White House.
“Now God is one of the biggest things in my life,” she said. “I gave up on Him when I was 13. I remember yelling at Him. I cried until I had nothing left. I had the feeling He was laughing at
me, figuring out ways to ruin my life.”
King considered suicide. She was tired of youth shelters and foster care, trying to fit in with her mom and dad, hoping for change that never seemed to come her way.
Cookson Hills changed that.
“My (biological) dad brought me here in June, 2010,” King said. “I fell in love with it. My house parents made me feel good. I’m in a family where I have a mom and dad, brothers and
sisters. I know I’ll eat the next meal. No one hurts me physically, and I’m not neglected anymore.”
In perhaps the biggest change, King says “God is my best friend.”
“I rededicated myself to God last July,” she said. “It lit a fire in my heart. If I could take back anything, I’d take back the words I said to Him.”