Mentor Monday

Today I'm going to tell you about two very special people: my parents.
My parents aren't the type who would cause you to immediately conjur up trendy social justice pictures. They're more covert in their care for the least of these.
They like to take care of people. Particularly people in the fringes of society.
Exhibit one: a teenage boy showed up at a local homeless shelter. I don't remember how, although my parents could tell you. Filled with Christ-like compassion, they took him into their home and treated him like their own son. There were frustrations, of course--there always are in these situations--but my parents loved him through it until it was time for him to move on.
You know, I debated telling you the end of that story. I'd like to tell you that he is now an upstanding member of society, on his way to being a pastor or congressman or something of the like. After all, these are "Mentor" Mondays. They're supposed to encourage you to follow the examples of these people in caring for the hurt, and wouldn't it be easier to care for the hurt if you knew, I mean absolutely knew that your efforts wouldn't be in vain? But life isn't always Hollywood. Sometimes we labor in what feels like futile effort. I'll tell you what I know: God works your efforts for good in your life, and we don't always know the end of the story. In this case, though my parents fought the ish in this boy's life, he returned to some yuckiness. Today, his life doesn't look pretty. But it's not the end of his life, now is it? We don't know how God'll use my parents demonstration of love someday.
Okay, enough of that. Moving on.
Exhibit two: a young, single, pregnant woman showed up at their church. This woman--a girl, really--has little, but has a desire to know God. My parents show her God every week. She doesn't have a car, so my mom picks her up for church, though it's out of the way, and drives her to other places. They've helped get her situated. They've welcomed this woman's family.
I could share other exhibits, about how their church has reached out through the youth group to the outcast teenagers. My parents have been there for that. About how they're involved with the local homeless shelter. About the hospital visits they've made time after time after time. About the times they brought home someone to share our Thanksgiving meal so that no one would be alone.
Caring for the hurt, for the orphans and widows and homeless starts in your own community. It often means setting aside your own preferences. It often doesn't have some big pay-off, for our reward is in heaven. It's often messy, bringing people into your life. Sometimes you won't like it.
Enough preaching now. I'm convicting myself.