Tag Archive | safe

When Grace Begins to Fill the Cracks

Oct24

Note: the names have been changed to protect the innocent guilty ones needing to go unidentified.

I don’t know about you, but when the phone rings in the middle of the night—I automatically assume that something is terribly wrong; even when I was a kid.  My first question was always “who died?” when anyone would call our house after 9:00.  So, when my phone rang about 8:15pm—I just assumed it was someone looking to make a Cook-Out run or something.  I wasn’t ready for the news on the other end of the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”  I could hear the fear in the quiver of his voice.  “You need to come to the hospital.  It’s bad.  I don’t know if he’s gonna make it this time.”

“What? If who is going to make it?”  I was grabbing my keys and trying to make sense of the broken details.  It didn’t really matter who.  I heard it in his voice that I needed to come and come right now.

“Joseph.”  I almost dropped the phone.  “His little body.  I just,”

“I’m on the way.”

Joseph.  A competitor who rarely lost, but this was a battle he could have never trained for.  Yet, it looks like his opponent never stops practicing on his face.

I was in the ER sooner than I probably should have been able to arrive, but when that name shows up on my phone—I drop what I’m doing and go as fast as my car allows.

“Can we see him?”  I asked while he hugged me like, if he let go, it would only mean that this was all really happening.

“Two at a time.  It’s bad.”

“Go with me?”

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and my heart sank as I considered what all of this could mean.  How on earth would we talk about God’s love and healing when the person who first taught this little man about God and the person who put him in this hospital bed are the same?

Black.  Blue.  Bruised.  Bleeding.  Bad.  Yes, it was really bad.  The foundation of his whole world was cracking.  His safety, his home life, his faith.  Our champ looked frail.  And small.  And my friend was right.  This was bad.  I didn’t have to find the right words to say to this little guy; he never woke up while we were there.  We stood there crying and praying and knowing.  Knowing that we felt certain how Joseph really got to this bed in the Emergency Room, despite the story being shared.

“There’s gotta be a special place in you know where for a parent who does this to their own kid.”

“Nope.  There’s room at the cross for them too, if they want it.  Jesus loves that parent and you the same.”

“Yeah, really good thing God loves us in ways we don’t deserve.  And that he doesn’t ask my opinion when it comes to how to handle people like those parents.”

What on earth were we gonna do?  How would he sit next to them in Sunday School next week?  How would I help him to teach this kid about forgiveness and a Heavenly Father when the word father probably made him scared for his life?  The foundation of his entire world is crumbling beneath him.  Lord, show us how to be there when Grace begins to fill the cracks…

A Boy Called Rusty

Oct9
I used to curl up in the living room in front of our television with the rest of the family for The Closer every Monday night.  Mainly because of the fact that the main character was Chief Brenda Lee Johnson, played by Kyra Sedgwick.  I have a high respect for the lady who would not only close most every single case but win and allowed chocolate to be her side kick.  As the TNT series was coming to an end, we were introduced to a boy called Rusty.
Rusty is a teenage boy who was found in downtown Los Angeles by the Major Crimes division of the LAPD when it was determined he was the key witness to a murder.  By the series finale, Rusty was needing to be kept in protective custody.  Therefore, he went home to stay with Captain Sharon Rayder.  Cue the opening music to the spin-off show Major Crimes.  That tradition of settling in and turning the tv to TNT has continued with Major Crimes.  For the most part the cast is the same, but Rusty’s story is now the common thread that ties each week together.  Rusty is the reason that I tune in!
Over the past couple of weeks, we have learned that Rusty was abandoned by his mom when she left him for her boyfriend.  The same boyfriend who used to pound Rusty’s face until the day that Rusty beat the crap out of him.  The very next day is when mom and said boyfriend took him to the zoo and never came back for him.  My blood is boiling even while I type this!  I cannot fathom a mom choosing her abusive boyfriend over her son.  Since the night we learned Rusty’s mom wasn’t coming back, Captain Rayder has had folks on the search for Rusty’s dad (whom Rusty had never met).  Last night, after only two episodes of Rusty’s dad being in the picture, Sharon came home to find Rusty with black eyes and a busted lip.  When she asked him what happened, we learned his dad had done this to him.  WHAT IN THE WORLD?!?!  Again, I cannot fathom what it must feel like to be Rusty.
There I sat, curled up on the opposite end of the couch of my own dad.  My dad who has been the spiritual leader of our house my entire life, Jesus in the flesh.  My dad who loves my mom and all three of us crazy girls.  My dad who has empowered me to think for myself and supported my decisions, even the ones he did not necessarily understand at the time.  How is it fair that I hit the jackpot when it comes to dads and there are kids like Rusty all over the place?  I come home to sober parents, who have created a safe home for, not just the three girls born to them but, all of our friends too.  It’s not unusual to walk in and find our friends visiting with our parents when we weren’t even there, but there are other kids who have never heard the words “I love you” or “I’m proud of you” come from their parents’ mouths.  That’s not okay with me!
I know God is stirring up something in my heart, something that’s going to allow me to stand in the gaps for kids like Rusty.  I’m not gonna lie, it freaks me out a little because I know it’s probably not going to make sense to a lot of people.  It’s not going to allow me to be safe and I like to feel safe.  Like, a LOT.  Parts of it are a little scary and I can’t stand to be scared.  I love Christmas, not Halloween.
The thing is though, I’m also being reminded that the heart of God is not always a safe place to be.  In fact, it’s usually pretty unsafe.  If I want to go with God, I have to be willing to build an ark and ride it for forty days and forty nights with snakes, spiders, and mosquitoes.  If I want to go with God, I have to be willing to lay my son on the altar knowing God will provide the ram.  It’s not all adding up to me, but faith usually doesn’t…
Right?
RIGHT?!?