Here and now

A few weeks ago my world was rocked professionally. A parent got arrested on a murder charge. I have been working with this particular family for over 6 months. They weren’t necessarily excelling with services, but they also weren’t failing. At first my mind could not take the news in. It wasn’t until I visited the children and the family members now caring for them that the reality of the situation started to set in. I felt useless as I tried to comfort them. Of course there are no words that can be said that will do much of anything. Then my caseworker fear set in.

Working in child welfare comes with immense responsibility. And as a caseworker you carry around an unwavering fear that something terrible will occur and it will be your fault. I started thinking about how at any moment this case could be audited. And worried that someone reviewing it could somehow perceive that I dropped the ball somewhere. Ultimately determining that I had failed the family I was responsible for helping. And then I was sad. Sad thinking about how not only the family I know had been shattered, but another family had been as well. And then my sadness grew as I learned that the other parent on the same case was most likely involved in the crime as well.

It took me over a week to work through the thoughts and emotions that kept cycling through. And then it was time to go visit the parents in jail. Since my conversations fall under confidential, I go into a tiny meeting room where there is a metal table about the size of a night stand with three metal stools. There are 3 sets of doors between where I am and the closest officer is. I have done enough jail visits in my 7 years that the setup stopped phasing me after about my second time. And the reality is the people I am seeing are getting somewhat of a perk by my presence. It changes up their mundane day. And there is no time limit on how long we can meet. So they are always on their best behavior.

I felt angry the first time I met with them. Especially as I sat in such close proximity. Angry that they would choose to be involved in something like this. Angry that their children are now forced to be connected simply because of who their parents are. And how they will have to carry around the weight of this for the rest of their lives. Angry that the youngest child will only have memories of their parents being incarcerated. As a caseworker I was angry that I had “that case.” The case that instantly becomes overwhelming as you are thrust into uncharted territory. I kept my time with them very short only discussing the topic of consenting to temporary custody and a power of attorney. My second visit was solely to fill out those forms. So again I wasn’t looking to display an ounce of compassion.

It wasn’t long after my second visit that I started feeling the Holy Spirit moving within my thoughts. He reminded me that my job is very much my current mission field. That He has allowed me to have the capacity to work with a specific population. And how He keeps me from falling to pieces while doing so. I can’t even try to explain how He manages to keep me sane while hearing and seeing the things I have. Isn’t that just like Him? To do things beyond our comprehension. Things that we wouldn’t even be able to formulate into a request.

I am required to visit these parents despite the current situation. However, I am not required to visit them at the same frequency I was before their incarceration. And as I was leaning towards doing what was most comfortable for me I felt like He was asking me to take the more uncomfortable route. To not do what most in my position would do. Which would be to write them off and not give them a second thought. He reminded me of the things I already knew about them through previous conversations. The horrors of their childhood experiences. And how many people didn’t give them a second thought. My toes were really stepped on when He humbled me to the point of reminding me how easily I could have been dealt the same circumstances in life if I was born to different parents. Please understand I am not saying their circumstances justifies their decision. However, it most certainly sheds light on how they would even get to such a place to travel down that path. And once He had my attention I felt like what He wanted was for me to simply be compassionate.

So I took a notepad and pen and told them I would continue to visit every week or two so they could write letters to their children. Why? Well first, I believe their children deserve something tangible. Even if all it said was that they loved them. Something they can read at their choosing as they try to process the separation that will most likely be forever. Second, would be because the jail charges for every single item. And as I’m sure you have already guessed no one is rushing to put tons of money in their commissary.

The truth is that if left to my own devices I would not be inclined to do the above. On my own I would do like nearly everyone else in my field and not consider the feelings of the parents, or even the children. I would simply focus on my own. I would do the bare minimum and stay where it feels most comfortable. I would allow my emotions to cloud my decision making and not care if the family picked up on it. Which just makes the reality of the Holy Spirit all the more beautiful. For when He works through us our selfishness is not what is being displayed.

It’s very rare that I get thanked for doing my job. Especially by a parent. However, that is exactly what happened. I watched a grown man overcome with emotions as I offered him the opportunity to take his time and write to his children. And his emotions intensified as he put words on the paper. He proceeded to tell me that he appreciates how I never appear judgmental. And that by allowing him to write letters he believes I am going above and beyond with my responsibilities. And in those moments I had a split second to choose. I could choose to let my ego swell and praise myself. Or, I could choose to see the privilege I was being given.

How easily I forget the compassion of God. How He always thinks of my feelings. How He never turns His back on me because of the decisions I make. How He could have allowed my life to be vastly different than it is. How He could have chosen that I be born to parents that wouldn’t protect me from anything. Yet, instead He has spared me of so many things. And how hopeless life would be without the sacrifice of Christ.

He allows me to do a job that constantly reminds me how necessary He is. A job that quickly humbles me when I forget to rely on Him. A job that at the very least allows me the opportunity to show others a tiny fraction of the compassion He gives me every moment of every day.

I think Christians get so wrapped up in missions being in a distant land that we fail to see what is right in front of us. We forget that everyone’s mission field isn’t identical. How our families, friends, neighborhoods, jobs and church are our mission fields. That they are just as crucial as going away to a different country. And how God uses what we see as small or insignificant to prepare us for the next thing. The reality is every person we encounter was predestined. And that when we are caught up in our small thinking, or, closed off to what He is telling us we are squandering opportunities. We underestimate the power of simply being kind to others in a world that is full of hate. We are often more focused on trying to do something large. And should remember that the “little things” feel large to the people we encounter. Although He doesn’t need us, He allows us the opportunity to be part of His work. He allows it to change us as it changes others.

Psalm 116:5 ESV

Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; yes, our God is compassionate.

Psalm 145:8-9ESV

The lord is gracious and merciful; slow to anger and great in loving kindness. The Lord is good to all, and His mercies are over all His works.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4 ESV

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort which we ourselves are comforted by God.

Colossians 3:12 ESV

So, as those who have been chosen of God, Holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.