I was a newly married 19 year old girl
when we adopted my oldest son. He was a gift from heaven for me.
You see, a little over a year earlier,
I had surgery to remove a softball sized fibroid tumor where half my
uterus should have been. I had only one fallopian tube which was
adhered to my intestines, endometriosis, and ovarian cysts that
ruptured frequently. My reproductive system was a mess. My surgeon
gave me the news at the tender age of 18 that I would not be able to
have children. I was crushed as I watched my dream of being a mom
slip away.
One year later, less than 6 months
after getting married, I held my son in my arms. He was six and a
half months old and perfect.
I have often said that my son was
difficult to raise, but the truth is, it wasn't his fault. He was
extremely intelligent and his personality required strict boundaries
and rules that came with consequences when broken. At my young age, I
did my best to provide the structure he needed, but I failed often.
Each morning he would wake and test the boundaries of that day
because I was not consistent in providing them. I went on to have 3
miracle babies after him, and by the time I was 25, I had four
children and a struggling marriage. I was exhausted, and this smart
young boy took full advantage of my exhaustion. And yet, even through
his temper tantrums and disobedience, there was inside him a
sweetness and tenderness. His ability to love and his giant heart
were incomparable. He was a good boy.
At 12 years of age, he discovered the
world of pornography on the world wide web. He used his intelligence
to hide it from me by clearing the computer of all traces of his new
habit. Then one day, I caught him. He was now 13, and as a single
mom, I had the job of talking to him about pornography and why it is
wrong. This was a tough conversation and both he and I squirmed as
we trudged through it.
Fast forward to the year 2012. My other
son revealed to me that his brother had molested him for years. It
began when he was 8, and my oldest son was 12. That's right, the same
year he discovered porn on the internet. I jumped into action as best
I could getting both my boys counseling. My oldest was now 20 and
living on his own. I sent him money for his first counseling
appointment. He never went back.
A few months later, this sweet,
intelligent, kind, big-hearted boy of mine, was arrested and put into
jail on felony charges. He was facing the possibility of life in
prison. He later took a plea deal that gave him 7 years, plus 15
years probation, and a lifetime on the sexual offenders registry. He
is serving his prison sentence as I write this.
I made the mistake of reading the
comments on the articles about him online. Calls for castration and
the death penalty filled the comments section. Names like “worthless
piece of #&%!” and “monster” were used to describe him. I
understand why people say these things. I used to say them, too, when
I saw sex offenders on the news. I used to share the outcry and
disgust and I believed “those people” were somehow less human.
Until the day came when that “monster” was my son.
In one moment, my perspective shifted.
I thought of all the mothers out there with children in prison. These
women who love the “unloveables” of our society. The heart ache
they feel was all too real to me now. They had raised these children,
loved them, nurtured them and given their hearts to them. Yet, these
children grew up and made choices of their own. Sometimes these
choices were made at an early age, like my son, and some later in
life. Whatever the situation, I no longer believe that those in
prison are beyond help. They are human beings, just like you and I,
and they deserve to be shown love and compassion.
I am not saying they shouldn't pay
their debt to society for their crimes. I am not saying they should
be given a free pass. They made their choices and with those choices
come real consequences.
I am simply saying this: they are not
worthless, and they deserve to be loved. They are no less a child of
God than you or I. When Jesus spoke of the shepherd who left his
flock of 99 behind to retrieve the one that was lost, he didn't add
an addendum that said only if the one was deserving. Jesus died for
all of us, not just some of us.
Through this situation, I have learned
to love not just those that I deem “worthy” in my human mind, but
to love ALL. This is what Jesus did when He walked this earth and it
is what He still does today. I still struggle at times with the
man-made cast system that has been ingrained in me, but I am quickly
reminded that Jesus wiped away that system with His sacrifice on the
cross. The blood that He shed – the Atoning Blood of Jesus – was
shed for all regardless of race, gender, personality, or the size of
our sin. Through the Blood of Jesus we are all the same.
John 13:34-35 A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
Romans 5:8 but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Be Blessed, my friends.
