Caught Up

In the last month or so, four young men that I have come to love have found themselves incarcerated.   They didn’t actually wake up and just “find themselves” there.  As we say in the neighborhood, they got ‘caught up.’  They gave up on the delayed gratification thing.  It is clear that my friends are delayed in their mastery of impulse control. That is a nice way of saying it. 

In the moment, these boys forgot who God made them to be.  Or maybe they just haven’t ever known the dreams God has for them.   It’s my job to help them see this.

Ever since I learned of these situations, I haven’t been able to shake it.   I can’t stop thinking about it.   Part of it is, I am coming to love these guys like sons.   And any parent, even if they are disappointed in their kids, worries about them.  I wonder how they are standing up to life on the inside.  I wonder if they will have to fight to get “cred” in there.   I wonder what they’ll eat and if they’ll sleep well.  I wonder when they will get out and if their hearts will be harder as a result of their stay.

Another reason I can’t shake it, is the volume.  Too many of our boys are being incarcerated.   It’s markedly disproportional. The United States has the highest incarceration rate in the world (1.6 million in 2010).  African Americans are incarcerated about 4 times as much as their White and Latino peers.   And men are locked up nearly 7 times as much as women.   The anecdotal evidence of my four boys bolsters this 2010 US Department of Justice Report.

These guys do not set out to end up here.  Melissa can tell you.  One of the particular boys I am writing about, was an eager learner in her 5^th grade elementary classroom about six years ago.  She worried about him then.  But she was also hopeful.  She worked with both mom and dad (who lived separately) to keep him on track.  “He is not a bad kid,” she reminds me even today.  Perhaps he just isn’t hearing that enough, from people that really matter to him.

In light of the disturbing news in my neighborhood, I am moved by Jesus’ exhortation to peruse and love boys like this.   He uses the example of shepherd, responsible for a flock of 100 sheep.   “If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off?” (Matthew 18:12).  

I am also reminded that finding a way to love these boys matters.   One day coming, many will ask, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

The reply will come, Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Mathew 25).

You see, we can’t get out of it.   If we call ourselves by His name, we must go to these lengths and to these far out places.   In my context, and with these particular boys on my heart, I intend to venture into the San Diego Juvenile Detention Center.   I don’t want to go.   But I must.

My appointment with the head chaplain is about a week away.

Pray with me for our boys.  Pray that they might grow to see themselves as God does.  Pray that they then live into that.