Our local newspaper recently ran a very long article about
at-risk children in our area, reporting that nearly 70 percent fall into that
category. Criteria for being at-risk
included not just poverty, but lack of parental involvement in their lives,
exposure to substance abuse, crime, physical abuse, homelessness, little or no
access to medical care, and lack of education.
Physical and mental disabilities were not considered, but I think they
should have been. Most of us know from
our own experience that disabling conditions can limit our possibilities.
As I read the article I realized that I was one of the at-risk
children, although we weren’t recognized or called that when I was a
child. I heard the whispers of
relatives. I knew that I was unwanted, and
was able to laugh when my father finally confirmed it when I was 18. I grew up in an angry, alcoholic household
and was actually relieved when my father left.
I was tired of the drunkenness and the cruelty, both physical and
emotional. In those days you didn’t talk
about such things; you kept them secret.
But God gave me a happy heart.
I’m convinced that is what saved me, and what keeps me going now as I
struggle with some depression over my physical struggles. God and I have always had a special
relationship. I remember when I was
baptized. I was five years old, and I
had a dress the color of the sky. When
the pastor told me I had a Father in Heaven who loved me forever, no matter
what, I was overjoyed. After the
ceremony I went outside and looked up at the sky, and down at my dress, and it
was if it were a sign - the color of my dress and the sky were a symbol that
God would always be there for me, no matter how bad things were at home.
And I had two people who loved me, a great-grandfather and a
great-aunt. They thought I was special
and encouraged my talents. I only saw
them a few times a year, but that time was precious. My great-grandfather listened patiently to
all my stories, and saved every letter and picture I ever sent him. My great-aunt taught me to sew, and shared
her love of genealogy and antiques and cooking with me.
And so I think of the children today. And not just the children, but all those in
need of love and support - all the “least of these.” Everyone needs someone who will listen to
them, who thinks they are special, who will encourage their gifts. As the family of Christ I challenge each of
us to reach out to the least of these, to love the unlovable, to listen to
their stories and encourage their gifts.
Some of the best hugs I ever received came from a homeless woman at a
former church. Her hair was scraggly,
her coat was dirty, but her eyes and heart were filled with the love of
Jesus.
One of my favorite passages is Matthew 25:31-46, where Jesus
separates the sheep from the goats, praising those who fed Him when He was
hungry, clothed Him when He was naked, visited Him when He was sick and
imprisoned, welcomed Him when He was a stranger, and gave him a drink when He
was thirsty. When asked how they did these
to Jesus when they did not see Him, Jesus replies, “Truly I tell you, just as
you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”
Who knows what joy we will provide when we too reach out to the
least of these? And what joy we will
find? It is certain we will make changes
for the better, and this is good.
Dear Lord, We are
reminded that although we are made in your image, we are all broken in some
manner. Help us to reach out to others
and extend your healing and loving touch.
Help them see their beauty and potential as we invite them into our
fellowship. Bless our friends who are
working to include all your children in the church and in the world, Help us all to strengthen ourselves to be
effective witnesses and workers. In
Christ’s name we pray. Amen.
