A certain young man was on the road from childhood to adolescence when the enemy of his soul confused his thinking, having corrupted a mind though it had been fearfully and wonderfully made. He fell behind his peers along their way and was left to languish in isolation and boredom, discouraged in both heart and soul.
Now it came to pass, some members of the academy took notice of the young man, shrugged their shoulders and crossed over to the other side of the road. These had, after all, grade point averages and reputations to protect within institutions doing business in the Name above all names. Besides, there was simply no room to accommodate the young man’s particular wounds within the framework of their pre-existing goals and objectives.
Others, too, took note of the young man and his condition but likewise crossed over to the other side of the road. Surely, they judged, he must have landed there due to his own moral weakness or rebellious nature. Perhaps his parents were to blame.
But others came across the young man in their journeys and felt compassion toward him. They bent low to see and try to understand the nature of his wounds. A kind-hearted teacher thwarted the rules of her institution, offering her time and assistance to help her student learn in a way which made sense to him.
A noble pastor visited him weekly, offering him rides upon his own donkey; refreshing the young man’s spirits with visits to the local Starbucks and feeding his soul with morsels of the Living Bread. Another offered the gift of weekly companionship, coaxing the young man out-of-doors where his body could move and his soul could breathe. Yet another encouraged him to fan into flame the gift of music which resided within him and offer it as healing balm to other weary travelers along the way.
For these good neighbors, the young man’s mother gives abundant thanks.
Re-telling a familiar story in community with these folks: