I have to ask you, dear reader, that if you have any knowledge of the situation I am about to write about, please keep it to yourself. You'll see why.
N and I, along with others, are involved with the teenage youth at our church. You get to know them and things about their lives pretty quickly. One of the hardest things is knowing when to offer an opinion or advice that you know is treading waaaay too close to parent territory. However sometimes you also know that they are either not getting what they need at home or feel the need to talk to someone that isn't as personally vested in the subject. Most of the time I bite my tongue and pray for the best. The more I thought about this, the more I thought that this isn't always the right thing to do. Even though my intention is to let their parents do what's right, whether I agree or not, I may not be doing what is ultimately good for those kids. And you have to know that I couldn't love all of them more if they were my own.
Fast forward to last week. I was in a meeting at the church. At the beginning we did a rather extended devotional that centered around God granting us strength and courage. One of the reflection questions was how we would use this strength and courage. My immediate thought was to not be afraid to be involved with these kids, their problems, and give of myself whatever they needed. I resolved to be involved when I strongly felt it was necessary. So far pretty easy, I mean, what could come up?
Last night out of the blue one the kids asked to speak to me in private. She has never known her father, and has always been told that nobody knows where he is or what he is doing. All this I knew, and we have discussed before. But in a casual conversation with another close family member, it slipped out to her where her father lives. It took her all of about one second to realize that her family had been not so honest with her all these years, since in fact they did know where he was and what he was doing. For good or ill, she wants to find him and meet him. And she wants me to help. My first dilemma is how her not-so-balanced mother will react. It won't be good, that I know. But as I sat with this crying, hurt child, I realized that this was a burden I could, and would, gladly accept. After all I was married before, I can handle a freaked out psycho woman. My next, and still nagging dilemma, is the fallout from all this. As N pointed out, most likely the outcome will not be a movie of the week sort. If her father rejects her, we will all surround her with love and help her deal with it. My fear is that this man is not a nice man, and could cause more pain in her life. What the Hell do I do then? Once again, press forward, pray for the best, and prepare for the worst.
So now, I have a piece of paper with a man's name on it. It is written in a child's handwriting. I can't imagine the emotions that went through her head and heart as she wrote his name on this scrap of paper. What hopes, fears, and concerns she had. And, oh-my-God, she has trusted me to help her and guide her through this. I have to be up for this, it's not my choice. I told God I would, and he took me up on it.
Fast forward to last week. I was in a meeting at the church. At the beginning we did a rather extended devotional that centered around God granting us strength and courage. One of the reflection questions was how we would use this strength and courage. My immediate thought was to not be afraid to be involved with these kids, their problems, and give of myself whatever they needed. I resolved to be involved when I strongly felt it was necessary. So far pretty easy, I mean, what could come up?
Last night out of the blue one the kids asked to speak to me in private. She has never known her father, and has always been told that nobody knows where he is or what he is doing. All this I knew, and we have discussed before. But in a casual conversation with another close family member, it slipped out to her where her father lives. It took her all of about one second to realize that her family had been not so honest with her all these years, since in fact they did know where he was and what he was doing. For good or ill, she wants to find him and meet him. And she wants me to help. My first dilemma is how her not-so-balanced mother will react. It won't be good, that I know. But as I sat with this crying, hurt child, I realized that this was a burden I could, and would, gladly accept. After all I was married before, I can handle a freaked out psycho woman. My next, and still nagging dilemma, is the fallout from all this. As N pointed out, most likely the outcome will not be a movie of the week sort. If her father rejects her, we will all surround her with love and help her deal with it. My fear is that this man is not a nice man, and could cause more pain in her life. What the Hell do I do then? Once again, press forward, pray for the best, and prepare for the worst.
So now, I have a piece of paper with a man's name on it. It is written in a child's handwriting. I can't imagine the emotions that went through her head and heart as she wrote his name on this scrap of paper. What hopes, fears, and concerns she had. And, oh-my-God, she has trusted me to help her and guide her through this. I have to be up for this, it's not my choice. I told God I would, and he took me up on it.
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1 comment:
So? what happened?? Don't leave us in suspense.
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