Sustained by love

One thing that is fun about getting older (and there aren’t many things that are fun about getting old) is that you get to see how people turn out.

I saw a couple I didn’t recognize get out of a car at church. I got in the building before them and was talking to other people. The man I'd seen in the parking lot entered the building, walked up to me and thrust his hand out to me. When I recognized him, he threw his arms around me in a bear hug.

This man was a little boy when I first met him. As he grew, his life became increasingly troubled. I'm not surprised that I hadn't recognized him. I had seen him pierced, dyed, wild and restless. He was a changeling, trying to figure out who he was.

I hadn’t seen him for a few years. As he grew, he was loved. He was held accountable for his out-of-control behavior, but he was never rejected. I had a very small role in his life. My job was to love and accept him regardless of who he was becoming whenever I saw him. I did, and regardless of his circumstances he accepted that love hungrily.

Now here he was strutting down the hall with a girlfriend in tow. He looked like he had settled some scores with the world and was attempting to bring meaning to his life. He looked confident. I’m sure he still struggles with demons from his past, but he continues on, sustained by love.

It is tempting to believe that we are here because of ourselves. We are not. We are here because of people who loved us, who believed in us, and wanted the best for us. For most it is family, for some it is unrelated believers. And don't count out the incidental accomplices in our lives that gave us random words of encouragement. We are all sustained by love.