When They Push Back

When They Push Back

Doing what I do, I find that when walking a path, when working out a plan, when desperately seeking out a vision of caring for someone other than yourself, intentionally, wholly, deeply, sometimes it is no longer wanted.  And that might possibly be the point at which fruit starts to grow.

At least, that’s what I hope happens.

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I’ve experienced this several times in establishing relationships with kids in children’s homes.  As you grow in relationship, conversations transition from basic interests, school activities, character, and playing table games to much more serious conversations about family history, goals, visions, dreams, and plans.

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You begin to pour and pour and pour into them.

You tell them they are of value

They are beautiful, created with a purpose, and they have a big and bright future.

And, that it all depends on the decisions they make.

You talk about what it takes to make good and healthy decisions.

That it’s more difficult to make a good decision than to make an unhealthy one.

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Your words are constantly competing with things that have been spoken over them, like:

I have to hurt before I get hurt

I can’t afford to dream of a future because of the past I’ve lived

I am useless.

And some think, I won’t live past 30, so what’s the point?

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For some kids, the reality of the world they were born into gets to be too much for them and they start to think:

I don’t need you.

I don’t need what you offer.

I will never be the kid you have a plan and vision for.

I’m not good enough.

I am a failure and I’m not worth it.

You should just go.

You should stop.

I will continue to disappoint you and you will continue to disappoint me.

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Yesterday I was told that by a kid I’ve known for many years that he no longer needed me.  That what I had to offer was not wanted.  That what was needed, I couldn’t give.  Those words left his mouth like bullets.  Ones with serrated edges shredding through every fiber of my heart.   Like buckets of ice water that washed over my hot skin soaking up all of the 118 degrees that the sun had to offer that day.  And, he said it with a smile.  There was probably a fair amount of teenage angst in there somewhere, but still, ouch.

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Children that have been denied love over and over again are most resistant to receiving love, over and over again.  Sometimes, the more you love the harder they push back.  And yesterday, I got pushed hard.  How are they supposed to know the love of Jesus, the love of God the Father, the Creator, the Savior, when the love that has been show to them was very much based on conditions?  They have been conditioned to not expect much and to earn everything.  That nothing is free.  Love is for the weak.

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My flesh wants to walk away from where I’m not welcomed.  My mind wants to appease his request to just stop, leave, and never look back.  I want to throw in the towel and say, “You got the wrong girl, Jesus” and admit that the devil got me good this time.   But I can’t.  I won’t.  Because that would be proof that it is all for nothing.  That the great war that was raged years ago between good and evil was for nothing.  That the cross was for nothing.  The blood that was shed, and the lamb that was slain was for…nothing.

There is no quick fix.  There is no clearly, drawn-out path for next steps.  There’s just time.  Patience.  And lots of love.  The unconditional kind.  In between the failed attempts, the false truths, and the unrest is Jesus and his grace, and mercy, and forgiveness.  There’s also hope that this and all children will see that it was not for nothing.  That no part is wasted.

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