In the human service/mental health profession there are two types of workers. There are those who work to quench the ever burning desire to help others; and then, oddly, there are those who work in this field to get paid. Usually, it's the ultra-educated ones that are in it for the paper. And who are the types who are most likely to do it for the help? It's the ex-cons.
Yep, the ladies and gents who pulled a little time are the main ones to step in my office with just enough education but a ton of heart. Most of them are so convinced that they're the right pick for the job that they interview like they're watching their favorite movie. Their eyes are packed with passion. Their responses are pleas of desperation; begging for a chance to help someone not walk down the path they did. Their gestures are compassionate, sincere, and grateful. And in an arena where it might not be safe to discuss the The Lord God, they are not ashamed. But most significant to me is that most of them don't appear to carry that felony with them. On the way to rehabilitation they've nearly lost it. And many times, if we didn't require disclosure or a background check, I doubt they would only tell me in attempt to verify their ability to relate to the broken. And while it's unfortunate that because of the Code of Virginia that I can't hire many of them, it's fascinating that they will not let a past conviction stop them from the chance to serve.
Meanwhile, I've seen many who allow failed relationships, short finances, and a myriad of mental errors and poor decisions hold them back from achievement. All of us have at one time or another has reviewed our personal statistical data and have taken ourselves out of the race; determining we are disqualified...labeling ourselves disapproved. The easy culprit of all of this would be Satan; and for some of us this could be a slight truth. But for the Believer, who is new in Christ and free from Satanic chains, to blame the devil is really a cry for sympathy....and the fault lies with our own perception of what we did back in the day. It's not the devil that cries on strangers' shoulders in support groups, or blurts memes that match our 5-years-ago feelings on social media. Nope, that's us. We are the one's who willingly carry around failure, embarrassment, and sorrow; proclaiming to the world and the mirror how broken we are.
Along with "saints" who keep talking about how "gansta" they were back in the day, the reason I am growing to detest Gospel music (labeled Inspiration on your lukewarm radio station) is because the art calls for whining about "coming up the rough side of the mountain." I mean, contrary to popular radio spins, I don't need a little more Jesus. Because the Jesus that gave His life for me is more than enough; and that's the one I accepted and follow. Knowing this, I, with all of my scandalous, evil, gross, and heartless past ways....I choose to accept that that Terrance is no longer me. Jesus destroyed all of that at the grave; and He destroyed the grave, too. So I would be dumb and I would insult Jesus' sacrifice if I keep bringing it up. Yeah, every now and then a reminder attempts to approach me, but I reflect on being more than a conqueror in Christ in all things (Romans 8:37). And that includes my past and my memories about it. And maybe if you declare that over yourself instead of focusing on your yester-years', you might see the beauty of today.
Let the bags go, please...
Peace
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