A child walks out of his kitchen door at night, walks over to the neighbours house, sees candy on the dinning room table, and goes to get it. – The same child walks across the road moments later, without looking left or right. This child picks up a rusty nail from the ground and swallows it.
Babies, are ignorant.
That’s why parents hold their hands to cross the road,
we teach babies not to get candy from strangers,
or leave the house at night.
Because these things teach babies certain truths about the world.
– cars can kill,
– strangers can do things to you that aren’t nice,
– night time is easy to get lost in,
– some things shouldn’t be eaten.
But what happens if you teach children these things on purpose.
“Ignorance is bliss”
is only true until a car runs your toddler over. Or until your gran dies from a cancer brought on by a life time of cigarette smoke, or your brother gets shot in the midst of stealing a television.
The last two days there have been a myriad of times my 1st world brain has compared my life to someone elses and thought…. ‘if only they had been taught….’ Theres been comments made ‘we are lucky because our lives are…..’ But the conclusion in my brain is most definitely, ‘What is it about my life, that i think makes it better?’.
The things that i want to multiply around the world…. and it is connected to knowing who I am, and whose I am?
Playing basketball the last few days and trips, there’s times and places where everyone is happy and friendly. Every one is loving the good natured competition, the company of other people. But then, like a piano, the wrong note is touched, and an explosion happens. F words, C bombs, violent lashing out, yelling, sometimes punches are all thrown because a soft spot is accidently or purposely hit. These soft spots can be anything, from inadequacy about size, strength, family heritage, misunderstanding, offense and injustice to year long inter sibling rivalry, bullying etc etc etc.
and in the midst of passionate competition, where blood is already running quite hot, even a stray elbow or chest bump can end in manly defensive aggression at the end of a fist. If you back down you are weak. If you run away thats even worse… so the only way is forward, into a fight that you most probably will lose. But to save face you much engage.
I know who I am. I am a child of the king. God is my father, and my other father is Stephen Randall and both my fathers – earthly and heavenly, have spoken life and love over me my entire life. There hasn’t been a moment in the last 28 years that i didn’t know my Dad was head over heels for me, supportive of me, available to be around me. My Dad loves me a lot. Even when I was in trouble, I still knew to the depths of me that i was loved and i belonged with him. Same with God, i am loved and I belong with and to God and I know that from experience, i know that from the bible. I have been told that and He has spoken that to me. So when violence comes my way, even if I lose, I know who i am. Even if i have to run, I know where I can run to.
These little boys trying to act like men have NO CLUE, who their Dad is. Sometimes not even their earthly Dads. They walk this earth as orphans, having to father themselves, having to comfort themselves, having to defend themselves. And usually, orphan boys don’t know how to stitch their wounds up well. They stitch themselves practically, and for emergencies and then hope that their body takes care of the rest. Usually leaving wounds inside, deep scaring – soft spots.
I hate seeing these deeply wounded orphans, walk around not knowing how much they are loved, and how much awesome stuff they could do with their heavenly father.