There were few people in my youth who were willing, and maybe able, to be both firm and gentle, or loving. As a feeling person, that has not always been me. It takes a certain courage and boldness as well as love. This is something I still hope and strive for, not necessarily something that I’ve already achieved. I’ve always had huge respect for such people who would tell me the truth in love. Sometimes, just the truth would be nice.
There was a woman in one of the group homes I was in, Sherri, who was this to me. I was 16 years old, a very scared, messed up kid, and on my way to juvie. She didn’t shame me, but she didn’t gloss over my predicament and where I was in life. She also didn’t let me blame others for where I was and what was going on. She made me feel respected and cared for, but also held accountable.
Out of all the people who came and went in those places, she touched my heart in a way none of the others did, and I’m sure that she wasn’t even aware. She listened, offered wise counsel, and called me out when I slipped. I didn’t always like it, but knowing that she cared helped.
Sherri was the only adult I remember missing after leaving any of these places, and there were several. She’s one of only a few people that I even remember her name. Years later I returned to visit her, but she was gone. This wasn’t a complete surprise because the turn over is great in these placement facilities.
My life didn’t altogether change at that time. Like many who find themselves in a dilemma of their own making, I saw the trouble that I was in, and I asked God to help this sister out.
I had no relationship with God to speak of at that time. There had been more animosity towards him than anything. But like my dad had told me as a kid, there are no atheists in foxholes. I was in big trouble and I needed help.
My prayer was honest. The repentance was sincere. I asked God to help me, and forgive me. I promised that I would really try to do better. I didn’t promise him that I would be a nun or a missionary or anything dramatic like that. I just told him that I would do my best and that I would probably end of blowing it, but I would still try. I knew there was no sense in lying, because he could see that I wouldn’t be capable of anything else. He heard my prayer and he helped me out in ways I didn’t foresee.
In the time afterwards it indeed did look like God had intervened when the charges were dropped. This didn’t make sense to me. I wasn’t sure what to think. I just didn’t see how it would be possible that God could have listened to or answered me. There was no reason for him to. That perplexed me and I thought about coincidences and things like that. I just wasn’t sure what it all meant and I set it aside.
I continued working to do better for a while and was moved from that group home to another foster home. For a few months I stayed cleaned up and pressed forward. Then one bad choice led to another and I ended up worse than before…for a time.
Some might have thought that it was all for naught. After all, I did return to my previous ways. That is true, but something was birthed in me, or an opening of some kind was made. Maybe it was hope. It was tiny, so small that I often couldn’t see it in times of despair.
Something poked at me. An argument or acknowledgement formed inside that maybe God really was there and that he had heard my prayer at least once. Maybe he would hear it again. That maybe is a big word and there would be much more contending with it. Whatever it was, a door of some kind was opened.
Today, I am so thankful when God corrects me, when he tells me the truth even when it hurts. I know he is strong, never harsh, and always speaks the truth in love. I know that if he confronts me, it is for my good and he will help me deal with it.
Don’t give up on those who seem far from reach. No one is too far off. You do not know what is going on behind the scenes. Only God knows a man’s heart. No one is beyond his reach. You do not know the impact you can have on another person by being firm and gentle, and you do not know what your prayers are accomplishing. You could be touching lives and never know it.
Here’s another fair truth. I did not then, nor do I now, know much of anything about Sherri’s life outside of the scope I interacted with. I don’t know of her struggles or life in much of any way, but that she made a difference. She surely could have been dealing with her own issues. You don’t need to be perfect to make a difference. Love somebody and remember God loves you.
(The small drawing above is one I did of one of my plants.)
Melicia Evans 