I recently completed chaplaincy training for my church, making me a “certified” Lay Chaplain – yeah, me! My long-held desire to work with kids in Juvenile Detention will soon be realized.
During this celebratory moment, I had an encounter with someone that I did not see coming. When I excitedly told him about my graduation and plans to work with the kids, he said, “Oh, the bad kids”. Alrighty then – a remark from a “Christian” kid who wants for nothing.
That was the conversation that prompted this post. My immediate response to him was that there are no “bad” kids, just kids who have made bad choices, often in the midst of circumstances likely out of their control. I know those kids well, having been one myself. No, I was never in jail, but there were times I came close.
Over many years, I have worked with kids in varied ministries and jobs and have shared those stories in past posts. I’ll tell you about two that profoundly impacted my life:
It all started about forty years ago when I decided it would be fun to put together a youth group at our church. I wasn’t really “qualified” to lead a youth program, so I embarked on a three-year Youth Ministry Studies Program.
I came out on the other side, brought together some amazing young adults to help lead it, and it took off. It didn’t seem too intimidating. You know, “good” kids just having fun together and learning a bit about God at the same time.
I recall one incident during that time that deeply impacted me! Two brothers came. One of them, I’ll call him John, always seemed to be bored to death. I often witnessed his brother’s cruel remarks toward him in front of everyone, but this kid kept coming every week.
One time, we put our chairs in a circle for a discussion. John pulled his chair up outside the circle, slumped back, and folded his arms, signaling total indifference. Subtle but noticeable. So, I asked a question. A few of the kids responded, and then John responded. I said to him, “That’s a great answer, John. I would not have thought of that!” Then, he looked at his brother, smiled smugly, and pulled his chair into the circle. Subtle again, right? Until you know his story. Then you realize how profound that gesture was.
John’s family was a mess. His brother excelled in everything he did, and their parents often reminded him of his failings and how he should be more like his brother. His brother also jumped on that ridicule train and criticized him every chance he got. So, his seemingly understated act of pulling his chair into the circle was huge!
A few years later, I went to work for Youth-In-Need and met a kid who challenged my authority – which I wore as a badge of honor. – “Don’t mess with me, I’m in control here, kid!” I’ll call him Justin. God called him my teacher.
I don’t think Justin ever knew his real identity as a “beloved child of God”. It’s likely that no one ever told him that in his short twelve years of life. I lived that story for years myself, and I sometimes still fall back into a false belief that I’m not worthy.
Anyway, here he was at Youth-In-Need, where I worked as a glorified house-mom. Troubled kids came there just before they ended up in Juvenile Detention if our therapists couldn’t help them get their lives together.
Justin was always angry and pounding his fist on anything that didn’t pound back. On his worst night, we felt we had to contact the on-call therapist. I went downstairs to the office, called her, and explained the situation. She asked if I felt threatened. If I said “yes,” they would have sent the police to take him away.
At that moment, God reached into my exhausted and hardened heart and broke through my stubborn will to control. I told her “no,” I did not feel threatened and that it would be fine.
As soon as I hung up, Justin, who was listening at the door, burst into the office, still angry, “You gonna call the police?! Go ahead, I don’t care! I’m not afraid of you!” I told him that I was not going to call the police and to just go upstairs, get his shower, and go to bed.
Out of somewhere came the words, “And, Justin, if you want a hug, I’ve got one for you.” To which he quickly replied, “Yeah, right!” and slammed the door when he left. While filling out the incident report, I thought, “Yeah, right. What was I thinking?”
When I walked upstairs, he came out of the bathroom, clearly not angry anymore. He looked at me and asked, “Can I have that hug now?” I hugged that kid so hard, wondering if he had ever been hugged. Had anyone ever made him feel worthy of love?
Here is a beautiful quote from Father Gregory Boyle. Working with gang members in L.A. he founded and directs Homeboy Industries. “You stand with the least likely to succeed until success is succeeded by something more valuable: kinship. You stand with the belligerent, the surly, and the badly behaved until bad behavior is recognized for the language it is: the vocabulary of the deeply wounded and of those whose burdens are more than they can bear.”
Do you know how many Saints could also have been defined as “bad” kids? A lot! Here are just two that come to mind for me:
St. Moses the Black
Saint Moses was an enslaved Ethiopian in Egypt in the fourth century. He murdered someone, got kicked out of his master’s house, and became the leader of a band of murderers and robbers. After an AHA moment, determined to change his ways and repent of his sins, he attempted to enter a monastery and become a monk but wasn’t well received because the monks didn’t trust his sincerity. It took a long time to convince them that he had changed. They eventually accepted him, and he also was instrumental in the conversion of some in his former band of robbers.
St. Augustine
He was also a piece of work. Augustine described himself as a “very bad little boy.” He admitted to being full of anger, a liar, a thief, and a cheat!
We hear about his mother’s fervent praying for his lost soul, but they also had a terrible relationship. He was mean to her, and there was a two-year period when they didn’t speak to each other.
Augustine continued to struggle with his sins and passions even after his conversion.
So, there you go. We should never assume that any kid is innately “bad”, no matter their actions. Kathy Escobar reminds us to “look the outcast in the eye and remind them of their worth” because it is likely that no one has ever done that.”
I plan to take all of the God moments and lessons I’ve learned into the Detention Center every time I have the opportunity to love on the kids! Deep down, I want them to know that God will not punish them until they cry “uncle”. He won’t try to scare them into submission like so many of their parents or guardians likely did.
I want to say to all of them, “God wants to love you so fiercely that you will cry – with the joy of knowing you are his beloved, and there’s nothing you can do about it!” I want to help them sort through the kurfuffle they have likely dealt with all their lives. And, yes, I will use the word “kurfuffle” because they’ll love it! I’m going to laugh and cry with them. Then I’ll go home, thank God for another opportunity to love as Jesus loves, take a nap, and do it all over again and again – for as long as I can!
Who knows? Maybe I’ll be known as the kurfuffle-busting granny. They may invite me to their graduations, weddings, and baby baptisms!
And, finally – hopefully – when God’s plan for me has been fulfilled, and I stand before him, I will hear those magical words, “Well, Linda, what a ride, huh?! I will say you got on my last nerve at times, but kudos and well done my good and faithful servant! Oh yeah, and bonus, you can stop counting calories now!”
PASSION, PURPOSE & POOPYHEADS 