She looked at the calendar and stared at the date circled with red marker. She was obsessed with it. It was not healthy for her to keep looking at it over and over again. But, how could she not? It was the date when everything was going to change. The date circled was her 18th birthday, and it was the day that she would leave foster care and have to figure out the world on her own, without a family.
She would have to move out of her foster parent’s home, and they would no longer be her parents. That is the thing with foster parents, they include you in everything. They include you in trips. They include you in Christmas present exchanges. They work very hard for you to feel loved and included, but no matter how hard they try, you are nothing more than a temporary child. No one sacrifices themselves for you when you are a foster child. Her foster parents were literally hired hands who cared for a price. They were great, but she was not one of their own. You might as well be sitting on the side of the road, asking for handouts, because that is all she would become the day of her 18th birthday.
Across the world from the young woman, and many years previous, there sat a man on the side of the road. He felt the familiar handle of the wooden cup, and lifted it up when he heard someone approach. Sometimes he would feel lucky as he heard the sound of a coin plunk the bottom of the cup. Sometimes he would feel just as forgotten as always when he heard the feet walk past without recognition. He used to call out to people as they passed by, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. Now, he just sat silent with the cup, trapped by his own thoughts.
As the random thoughts swam through his head, a conversation nearby broke his mild-mannered concentration.
“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”
Then the man heard the sound of spitting and rubbing. Soon he felt the cool feel of mud on his eyes.
“Go, wash in the pool of Siloem,” the one who touched his face ordered.
As soon as the waters splashed his face, a bright…something, pierced through his eye lids. Light? Was that what light looks like? He looked around and saw the world. He had never seen the world before: flowers, trees, people, birds, shovels, dirt, and that gooey, smelling stuff on the side of the road. Just what is…oh, never mind, we know what that is.
The man that had healed him was like a shepherd that he never realized he had. This surprise shepherd came, searching for him, and sacrificed some time to care for him and heal him. He now belonged to the one who declared, “I know my own and my own know me.” Even after the religious leaders questioned the man about his healing and drove him out of town, unsatisfied with his answers, Jesus still came back and found him once again, making the man a part of his sheepfold. “I know my own and my own know me.” Even he, the poor, blind beggar, was given the gift of a family from God; Jesus himself was the man’s family now.
"I am the good shepherd.” Jesus explained. “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them.”
As Jesus continued talking, the man considered how shepherds would face wolves with staff in hand. Hired men did not care about the sheep in a similar way. They just cared about their paycheck, and would stand by watching as some of the sheep were slaughtered by sharp fangs. But, Jesus was not one of those who just stood by, or walked on by in his case. Jesus was like a shepherd who actually took the time to care.
“I have other sheep,” Jesus continued, “that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”
“Other sheep” the man thought. Of course, he realized, he was not the only one lost in the world. There are other sheep who need to know that someone would be willing to lay down their lives for them. “I have other sheep.” Of course, there are. But, that in no way diminished his adoption into Jesus’ family. In fact, it made him proud that he and all those others were not just included, but were adopted into Jesus’ family.
From that day on, he sought to lay down his life for others, as Jesus had done for him. He sought to be a lot like the good shepherd who sacrificed himself out of love for others. The man sought to share with others the story of how Jesus had taken the time to save him.
“I have other sheep.” The phrase echoes through time and around the world. “I have other sheep.” It falls upon the heart of a young woman who looks over at the calendar and sees that the circled day has come. The day has arrived when she will be sent out on her own, her temporary family lost to her for good; alone.
She walked down the steps that led to her room one last time, carrying a large duffel stuffed full of clothes. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her foster parents were there, waiting to say “Goodbye.” But, instead of saying “Goodbye,” they handed the young woman a large, sealed envelope.
“Open it,” they encouraged. And so she did.
As she pulled out the page, she read the first words printed on the top of the page. “Petition to adopt,” it read, and as she scanned down the page, she saw her name printed nicely in permanent ink.
“We just wanted you to know that we would do anything for you. We love you. You are going to be ours forever. Now, put that bag back upstairs in your bedroom.”
There is nothing as powerful as being adopted into the family, forever. There is nothing as powerful as being known, and being loved no matter what. Jesus says to us, “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.” We are not just foster children in Jesus’ family. We are known. We are fully known, and we know the one who loves us no matter what: Jesus Christ. Into his family we are adopted and made one of his permanent children forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment