Its Not Fair

I have been thinking a lot recently about just how not fair life is, especially for these kids that I have come to know and love.

It’s not fair that they live in a group home without two parents that love and care for them.

It’s not fair that they have to “sign out” every time they leave home (I can’t imagine having to sign out at my house! I understand the reasoning here and realize how important it is here, but it’s definitely not natural)

It’s not fair that they have no one to support them financially, besides themselves, when they are only 17/18 years old.

It’s not fair that they have experienced abuse and neglect by their own mothers and fathers.

It’s not fair that a majority of the residents cannot think of one reference to put on job applications that they have known for more than a year.

It’s not fair that it is so hard for our kids to make positive influencing friends.

It’s not fair that they didn’t have someone taking them to McDonald’s after school for a special treat when they were little.

It’s not fair that fighting the urge to use drugs and alcohol with be a fight for the rest of their lives.

It’s not fair that every good influence in these kid’s lives is paid to be there.

It’s not fair that they don’t know how to accept love.

It’s not fair that they want to sleep with music each night so they are distracted from their own thoughts.

It’s not fair that they grew up in chaos.

 

I could go on and on with a list of things that are just not fair in these kids lives. However, I so often forget these things in my interactions with the kids and in my frustrations with the kids. I forget the pain and heartache they have experienced in their young lives. I get angry. I want them to be quiet, do what they need to do, just do right! Easy enough, right?

I struggle with the fact that I cannot change these kids or make them do the right things. I have seen numerous friends make bad decisions and go back to jail. I have seen them say “I want to do better…I will do better…BLAH BLAH BLAH” then end up back in jail. I get so angry with these decisions that seem so simple to me. I want to just scream at the kid and give up hope.

I was journaling the other day, confessing to Jesus my failures of spending time with him. I was writing that every time I begin a journal entry it is always the same: “it’s been way too long since I have written in here…I want to do better…I will do better…BLAH BLAH BLAH.”

As I was writing that, I was made aware that I am just like these kids!! I even say the same things and then fall right back onto my face!

I was then reminded of the oh-so-popular prodigal son. Jesus doesn’t want to change me.  He doesn’t want to scream at me. Jesus doesn’t care how often I write in my journal, he doesn’t care how many times I apologize, he doesn’t care that I say one thing and don’t do it.

All he cares about is that I know my home in him and am running towards it. Be it every day or once a month, He is eagerly awaiting with open, loving arms of forgiveness and grace.

That’s how I need to be with the kids—a person with open arms, accepting them back lovingly. They are going to make mistakes, just like me, but I need to show them the grace of Jesus when they do.

They have lived a life of unfairness. If I cannot show them the grace, love, forgiveness, and acceptance of Christ, then I am yet just another unfair part of their life.