a glimpse towards Sunday 10.4.13

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I was in court this morning for a relative.   This hard-but-childish young man will turn eighteen in eleven days.  He has taken the juvenile system to the brink.  As family lined the observer seats and the black-robed judged walked in, I began wondering how things got so broken.  How did we get here?

A young man not yet eighteen was sitting in ankle and wrist shackles.  This didn’t feel so juvenile.  The judge’s poignant words were certainly not juvenile-esque.  The warning issued for the potential look of life after an eighteenth birthday was sobering.  How did things get to this point, and what was needed to deal with such deep levels of brokenness?

Sherry and I walked down the courthouse steps and began the natural process of placing blame.  The main focal point had lived almost eighteen years under the curse of fetal alcohol syndrome.  Naturally, this kind of brokenness can be placed squarely on the shoulders of the mother.  She walked away from this hardship early on just like her parents had done to her.  The biological father has never been in the picture.  A courageous step-dad accomplished adoption years ago, but needed the help of exhausted grandparents just to hang on for the wild ensuing ride.

The brokenness we saw culminating in a cold courtroom this morning had been passed down through so many.  It was eventually hard for Sherry and I to place the core of blame and responsibility.  We shifted our efforts to potential solutions.

I believe a life pursued in the military may be the kind of discipline and structure needed.  Sherry believes a family member with a bit of geographical distance could create a good effort.  Regardless, somewhere along the line, love will be needed.

Biblical, agape, enduring, tireless love will be the only hope for such a messed up situation.  A Jesus kind of love will be the only path to gospel redemption and restoration when the curse of our broken world has been so enflamed in a young life.  It’s a love of another kind… as Amy Grant once sang.

For fourteen plus years, this messy kid has been loved at great risk and peril of a family’s comfortable life.  This scenario, however, now cannot continue.  Who will pick up the discarded ball?  Who will decide to go beyond loving who they like and get along with, and rescue someone legally labeled as unlovable?  Love IS the answer.

On Sunday, we’ll be talking about love.  As I sit reflecting on this broken day, the topic doesn’t seem as ethereal as some might fear.  Love.  Who will be willing to love?  Who will do as Jesus did and love… really love?

Let’s talk on Sunday. All YOU need is love. Got some? Need Some?

Blessings!

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