July 3rd marks the beginning of the most painful, sad, and destructive season of my life. It’s the day, when I was 14 and my little brother was 10, that my mom “decided” (persuaded by some people in her new church) to come take us from our dad without telling him. The season began the day before one of my favorite holidays, and ended 3 years, 5 months, and 3 weeks later (interestingly) on the eve of another of my favorite holidays.
At the time, I recognized the feelings of sadness, anger, and loneliness, but I didn’t realize until much later that those emotions were the result of imprisonment. See, the decisions that were made “for my better good” were raltionalized by the motivation of love, but were carried out with a system of control.
It makes me wonder how often we rely on our own opinions, experiences, and theology to determine what other people “should” do, and the level of our own involvement in “making” that happen. Did those above me act as they did because they loved me? I’m sure they did. Would my adolescent years have been more filled with peace and safety if they had relied on Holy Spirit’s guidance? Of that I have no doubt.
1 John 2:27
As for you, the anointing you received from him remains in you, and you do not need anyone to teach you. But as his anointing teaches you about all things and as that anointing is real, not counterfeit—just as it has taught you, remain in him.