I was walking with a young man a few weeks ago as we talked about where he was at.  Our family has known him for a while and we have been through some highs and lows in the knowing.  His own family has had some hard experiences through the years (including divorce and the death of his dad) and now is pretty fragmented and disconnected.  They do not understand him nor do they necessarily appreciate him or his growing faith and the new priorities he is pursuing.  At times they have been less than kind toward him and that has left him feeling rather lost and wondering where he belongs if not with his own family.

As we talked I heard myself talking about the difference between being connected to us and being attached to us.  I was reaffirming our family’s commitment to him and his welcome in our home but I was also setting some boundaries for what that would look like.  I heard myself sharing a bit of my own journey of confusing the difference between being connected and being attached and the price that had been paid in that confusion.

We could be his “touchstone” – a place where he could come and remember that he mattered and was loved.  A place where he could be refreshed and encouraged.  A place where he could measure the things he has been hearing about himself and God and life and in the community of our home discern the truth or deception of those things.  A place he would leave to “go back out there”.

If he tried to make it more than that; if he tried to stay and become attached he would miss out on the best that we could give him. In the trying to take more from us than we could or even should give, he would hinder or even disable completely our capacity to be that connection he so needed.  He would also be missing out on what God had for him beyond us.  Finally, he would end up missing out on the only healthy attachment there is – getting immersed into the presence of God, being one with Christ, and we (he and us) would all suffer dearly for it.

I suggested that God was a jealous God who wanted to spend some intimate time with him in a space of undivided attention – that perhaps the fragmentation of his family was the piece God was using to draw him into his Fatherly embrace; a drawing he would have missed had his family had it all together.

At one point we grew quiet and we simply walked in the silence.  Within me an awakening had been stirred by my own words to him and I realized I had come to understand some things about myself; ways that I had related to others that had taken initial connection and turned it into attachment and in the end (and there were many “ends”) the suffering for all had been great.  Had this young man been able to see inside my heart in those quiet moments he would have seen the healing wound inflicted by God through my own words and the tears that were being shed as I realized what I had done to others and to myself.

I had no sense of deep guilt or wanting to rake myself over the coals.  It was just a deep, cleansing knowing that settled in and completed the alignment with God that he had been administering over the past few months concerning some matters and relationships now lost to me.  I had come full circle and I now understood healthier ways of being in relationship and I knew I could anticipate some good outcomes.

When the conversation picked up again there was a lightness to it bouyed by the gratitude that also began to overflow in each of us – he was thankful for being affirmed and welcomed and assured of his place; I was thankful that I had experienced some healing and growing and because of this, this young man would be spared some tougher days because he was learning the lessons sooner than I had.

Tender mercies at work yet again 🙂