When we set out to intentionally build relationships with other people—especially non-family members—expect pain.
I tugged the sheet over the corner of the guestroom bed and thought for the thirtieth time about the odd-sized mattress. None of my sheets fit its contours correctly. A tear dripped off my nose onto the clean sheet.
“Dumb kids,” I thought, as I held the sheet in place with one hand and reached for tissue with the other. I knew I didn’t mean it. The circumstances of changing the sheets and cleaning up the room after a long-term guest brought back memories of another kid who had done dumb things. My own.
This time, the kid didn’t belong to me. But, for five months he had lived in our home, gone on vacation with us, played Catan, and shared life with us. I thought we had built a solid relationship. A relationship that would give him stability in his life so he could make better choices.
Evidently not. He broke his contract and tough love required that he return home. Boy, did it hurt. Not because I felt betrayed, but because the dreams I’d built for him vanished like a cloud castle in a windstorm.
Stretching the sheets over an odd-sized mattress reminded me of our daughter and the troubles she experienced as an adolescent. I methodically picked up the detritus left behind by an adolescent boy and thought of what our daughter left behind. Fried pigs’ ears under the bed (and she’d never eaten pork before). Paintings, journals, and sketches showed her inner agony. Each item a clue. But I’d known her for 20 years.
I’d only known the boy for a year and a half. The boy left his textbook and library book (evidence of responsibility?), his tie and belt, but he remembered his dress shoes. He took the game of Risk we gave him for Christmas (does that mean he doesn’t hate us?). I set aside my analysis, it tortures rather than comforts.
I pushed the vacuum back and forth over the carpet, my mind bouncing questions in rhythm to the hum of the motor. Why build relationships with others? Do the rewards of relationships outweigh the risk? We took the young man in because we felt God’s call to open our home. Had God forgotten? Or had we failed God?
Questions and Answers
The room set to rights again, I sought comfort in my office and my Bible. Somewhere, someone said something about weariness. I used my Bible app to find the verse.
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.Galatians 6:9
That answers the question about taking time to build relationships. Even though I felt weary and discouraged, God doesn’t want me to stop. I can’t write off relationships or give up on building meaningful ones. Most importantly, my ‘proper time’ is probably not God’s ‘proper time.’
That verse about God being slow came to mind, and I angrily typed in “God is slow.”
Second Peter 3:9 pops up. I realized I got it wrong.
“The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.”2 Peter 39
I sighed. Once again, I realized I can’t rush God. I have to trust that he is building something in the boy. I only played a small part. When we build God-led relationships, we can’t hurry the process.I have to trust God will all of my relationships–even the ones that seem risky and don't turn out the way I expect. #mentorship #fmfparty Click To Tweet
I do the only thing available to me. I pray. God will work things out in his time. After all, it happened with our daughter.