I got to thinking tonight. I miss blogging. I was going to sit down and put in a couple hours of work to get a head start on my twenty, but this seemed like much more fun, so here we are. You and me. Spending a little time together.
While I have you. Go check out Klin at Monkeying Around The Jungle. This lady is a therapist, and let me tell you. She's pretty freaking awesome. In the little time I've known her through blogging, she has shared some AMAZING insights with me. She's changed my life, and I bet she doesn't even know it. I love her. She's a gift to me. Go tell her how amazing she is, because she deserves to hear those words. She totally does.
She has a recent post about becoming a "proctor parent", which she explains is similar to foster parenting, but only now to those that have been in trouble with the law. She writes, and read this closely: "As a society, too many children are being thrown away. I am very opposed to this. How do we expect people to make good choices when they have only been shown poor choices? They haven't had a safe place to grow up. They haven't had their needs met. They have been physically and sexually abused. They have been told they are worthless and have been shown that when an adult gets upset they become the punching bag. I want to show them that they are a person of worth. They can succeed by making right choices. They are not for hurting. There are different ways to live. I want them to know that God has answered their prayer to be safe and to be loved."
My heart felt two things when I read those words. Joy and sorrow. I was that kid. My brother, sister, and I were those kids. Days, weeks, months passed and how my heart ached that some one would notice. Some one would hear. Some one would see the bruises. Some one would realize the extreme oddities in my home. It would have only taken one adult.
I've decided to be that one person. We have a family in my neighborhood that needs extreme aide. The family is made of a single mom and three boys. The mom is timid and seemingly a ditz. The boys are "good" kids, under the correct circumstances. The two older boys are friends with my two oldest children, and under close watch, and countless explanation of our house rules, we fare well together. We've chosen to be a safe place for those kids. I did a lot for that family last year: clothes, food, shoes, Christmas. I finally felt like they'd gotten over the hump, but 'twas not so. The boys were here just a couple weeks ago, were asking for many meals, and it finally dawned on me that they weren't eating at home. The boys had not eaten in THREE days. The more I thought about it, the more I became angry. I excused myself, gathered what extra food I had in the house, and sent it home with the oldest neighbor boy, and invited him back for a pancake lunch. I thought for the rest of the day and I decided to call the mother. I called her and I told her to not speak. I told her I had been watching her home closely, her boys closely. I told her I knew about the drugs done at her house, I told her about her boy that was getting hit by one of her "friends". I told her I knew they had no food. I told her if she didn't make some sudden drastic changes, that I would call the authorities. We had that conversation, and I didn't see or hear from that family for about 2 weeks. Didn't hear from her, but saw that the flocks of men we no longer at her house. Gone were the drugs, gone were the parties. I was thankful, but I was saddened, because I missed the boys. I decided to call her. I told her I was able to get her some aide through my church, so they could have some extra food, that she should come meet with me and couple church women today so we could get her some help. I told her I missed the boys, that they were welcome in my home any time. About an hour before our meeting today, her boys came to play. The meeting came and went, we chatted, good feelings were felt. She turned to leave and she said "Misty, you are the best". Phew. There is a God and He loves me. He loves me, her, and those boys.
I sighed and shooed the last of her kids out the door so I could make dinner, and said a quiet prayer. I'm glad I have those boys. I'm glad those boys have me.
One person can make a difference. One person can change a life. One person can provide safety and love.
I needed that one person, and I didn't get that. I challenge us all to be that one person in some other child's life. It will stir with in that child a life time of change. Do it. Look for the opportunity.
I dare you.