I'll Whip Your A _ _

Last night Brenda and I stopped to get Turner some supper before going to his track meet. Subway did not have a drive through so Brenda went inside to order and I waited in the car. Through the glass door I could see a little boy being a little boy. Bounding with energy and smudging the door with his his fingers. His family was leaving. He was the first one to the door. He pushed, leaned his shoulder into it shoving with all his might to barely get the door to budge and then slowly open. Behind him his little brother bolted out the door with older brother leaving the door in hot pursuit. Far behind I saw a frazzled mother screaming for the tykes to stop. They giggled and kept running down the sidewalk. Then I heard it. She screamed, "I am going to whip your a _ _!"

I could hear the youngest boy repeating, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Then I heard the familiar sound of a swat on the bottom though my view was hidden. I waited for it. Next, came the crying and screaming.

I wondered about that family. A mother who used such colorful language around her sons. A frazzled mother who looked like she was barely keeping her head above water. I know the panic she felt as those two youngsters ran out the door. You envision your child running into a busy parking lot and getting hit by a vehicle. You imagine a stranger kidnapping them. It is a powerless feeling. Brenda and dealt with that scenario times four little boys.

I know Jesus can make a difference in that mother's life. I don't know if she is married, divorced or living with someone. I just know in that instance she was not in control and it made me wonder how many other areas of her life are out of control. Her choice of language led me to believe she probably talks that way often.

Then I thought about those two little boys. They reminded me of mine when they were little. Full of energy, giggling, happy, curious.  I wondered what kind of home they are growing up in. I do not doubt the mother loves those boys. That is why she panicked. I wonder if those boys have heard the story of Jesus. I wonder if they have ever heard about the cross and the empty tomb. I wonder if those boys have ever been to a Vacation Bible School, a Sunday school class, or any type of church gathering. I wonder if they have ever seen a Bible. So many children never have. That thought tears at my heart often.

How do you help children growing up in harsh environments with dysfunctional parents in horrible circumstances. One child once commented about being called names at home. That child said, "It's okay. I still love my parents." How many feel unloved and unwanted? How many are being introduced to vile sin at an early age? How many have no sure foundation for living because the foundational unit of the family is shattered? It is almost more than I can bear.

How do Christian teachers undo in a couple hours a week what some children get brainwashed in 166 other hours a week when they are at home or school. Hurt children often hurt other children. These same hurt children grow up to be hurt adults. They will in turn hurt their on children. UNLESS...

Unless they meet Jesus and are transformed by His grace. That is my hope. That is my prayer. That is the desire of my heart. To see Jesus transform little ones and big ones making them new creations. May Jesus use us to be a part of that transformation as we tell the good news.

2 Corinthians 5:17 (NASB)
17  Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.