Monsters and People

So, yesterday I adopted a new view of a person I thought I had pegged. You see, there's this parent who just seems . . . high. All time. High. She never really gives the impression of caring, or being fully awake, and often attends, (when she does attend, that is) family counseling sessions wearing T-shirts with drug paraphanalia air-brushed on them. Yeah! She really does! Promise!

Anyway, I am pretty disgusted with this woman. Her son has manged to sexually abuse well over 15 victims right under her nose, and has over 40 offenses. She displaces blame, so her son has never learned to take responsibility for what he's done, because "mommy" keeps telling him that it's not his fault.

Honestly, I've just seen this woman as . . . a monster. I mean, her child has hurt so many people, and her only concern is making sure that he receives no consequence for his behavior.

No concept of the pain her son's victims have endured.
No concept of community safety.
Just her baby. Her monstrous baby.
Born to a monstrous mother.

Terrible way to think, huh?
That's okay. I see the error in my thinking.
I'll admit it.

Any way, we were all at some meeting, right? And this monstrous mother starts to look a little more like a person to me.

She opened up, and, well, made me think a little.

She talked about how isolated she was. Alone.

Her son had been sexually abusive to every child in her family. Every single one. So her whole family is just done with her. Done. Brothers. Sisters. Aunts. Uncles. Parents. All just done.

Her son had been sexually abusive to all of her friends' children as well. Every single one. So all her friends are just done with her. Done.

And at this point, just watching her express this deep loneliness, this pain, I saw . . . a person.

I actually related to her. For one split second. And I thought, "Dear God, how could I have been so blind? She's a person too!"

I think it was the vulnerability.

Weakness.

This is in all of us. The inability to do it on our own. This is the one thing that connects everyone.

We all need God, we all need Grace. Just the same as anyone else.

Because we're all just people.

And so I sat across from this monster, and I watched her morph before me into a person. Not a good person. But a person.

And God gave me a glimpse into her heart. It was ugly. And it was wounded. But in these wounds, that's where the hope is. In her pain. Because there is only one way to truly heal. Her pain will lead her to God.

Eventually. I know it will.

Her loneliness will lead her to the one source of love that will never turn away.

And just in reflecting on this experience, just in writing this, I think that's why God put me where He has. Why he allows me to see into the hearts of others, and feel their pain. So I can help them. Help them so that they can see that they are people. Because sometimes they need reminded too. And when they realize they are people and not monsters, that this is not how they should feel, or who they should be . . . they will know they need to be healed. Changed somehow.

I've not proven myself to be good at leading people to Christ. I'm just not. Hopefully one day I will be. But God has used me to help people see that they shouldn't settle for being a monster. That they're people. And that healing needs to happen so they can be people.

And hopefully their realization will inspire a quest. And hopefully that quest will lead to salvation.

One day.

I know it's never as simple as it should be.

But then again, monsters who are really people realizing they're people and that they just feel or act like monsters and knowing they need help to not be monsters, to be the people God intended them to be . . .

(deep breath)

really doesn't sound too simple after all, does it? ;o)