When we committed to Safe Families, my in-laws quietly expressed concern. Not so much that we were opening our home to a child in crisis, but that my wife might trigger an Amber Alert when it was time to give him back.
Mandy has always been a rescuer. Birds with broken wings. Baby rabbits that wandered from their burrows. There’s even a rumor she helped a skunk that had been clipped by a passing automobile (OK, I just started that one).
How in the world will she handle a beautiful, little three year old boy?
Our temporary miniature house guest has been a handful (a 24-7 handful for my wife). Having a toddler back in the mix after a few years of offspring self-sufficiency has messed with our normal. But the thought of dropping him off tomorrow has given us pause.
We’ve gotten attached.
As I think about sending this little guy back into the terrifying unknown, I’m challenged to look honestly at my core motive. Over the past two weeks, we’ve been able to provide new shoes, new clothes, new experiences, and a bed of his own. But his greatest need isn’t to become saved into the middle class (our access to tangible resources can deceive us).
It’s to be loved. Cherished. Filled with hope for the future, and the knowledge there’s a Savior who knows his name, regardless of his circumstances. Our greatest asset isn’t our way of life, it’s our Source of it.
Above all else, I pray that’s what he takes from his short encounter with us.
And what we remember is most important from our short encounter with him.