Dear Hopkinsville

Dear Hopkinsville,

The week of October 12, our city was presented with an opportunity.  It was a chance to rally behind a young victim who was brutally attacked while unconscious at a house party.  In the aftermath, this town came together and raised support and money for the young victim to help with his medical expenses.  We prayed for him and his family and worked to make sense of it and to bring comfort to the family.  It was a moment to be proud of our town as dollar for dollar, we attempted to take the sting out of the horrible wrong that was done; not to erase it, but to announce that we were not going to stand by and allow this kind of thing to define us!  “We care about our kids,” we declared, “When they hurt, we hurt.”

In all of our rallying to support the victim--and rightly so, we hollered a battle cry against the rest of the young people involved in the incident—arguably still just kids themselves. From the same mouths that rallied to support the victim, spewed verbal vitriol that demanded the perpetrators pay. Not only did we want them to pay, but in the worst possible way.  I watched my newsfeed as graphics of gallows and snickered comments about what happens to “guys like that in jail” assaulted my eyes and all I could think was that if the first victim didn’t deserve it, then how can we justify the same treatment for the suspects?  There is no comfort for anyone from the victim to his family to the suspects to their families who believes similar treatment will in any way make things right, and yet few people have stepped up to say that this is just plain wrong.  So let me be the first to point it out; this is wrong! Fully supporting the victim and his loved ones while supporting the suspects and their loved ones are NOT mutually exclusive and we need to quit perpetuating the lie that we can't do both!

It’s nothing unusual, though.  This kind of reaction is typical and exactly what is to be expected, but that is the point of this letter. We rose to the challenge to help one child in need; but are perfectly willing to throw four [at present count] “children” away to rot in prison in order to pay for their crime.  It’s totally to be expected; this kind of reaction.  I’m not picking on you, Hopkinsville, because it happens in every town following this kind of shocking event.  But this is why I’m writing you.  I wanted you to consider another opportunity.

What if we rallied behind all the people involved in this incident?  What if we quit the usual diatribe and libelous remarks against young people like the suspects in our community?  What if we declared that we weren’t okay with the likely treatment they may receive in prison?  What if we promised that we would be there for them while they pay their debt to society and prepare to receive them again when the time comes?  What if we supported them as they prepare to face the music; a burden that is likely too heavy for any of them to carry alone? Any one of our kids could have found themselves in the same situation.  I'd like to think that mine would know and behave better--but I just can't look you in the eye and promise you that!

Who could blame you for saying no?  I wouldn’t.  It would make you no different than any other community that’s been faced with a similar shock.  But that’s the other thing about which I’m writing this letter.  What would it cost us to rally behind ALL of our young people?  Not just the good ones who always follow the rules, but the lost ones too?  It might cost us our pride because nobody wants to go to bat for anyone who doesn’t deserve it.  We want to look intelligent and at least a little careful—not foolish and naïve.  It might cost us our opportunity to see the bad guy get what’s coming to him.  It’s the ending to every good movie we’ve ever seen—the bad guy always gets his comeuppance.  We might experience a huge loss of satisfaction if we don’t get to take part in the fullness of the derelicts' deserved penalty.  It might cost us some friends, because let’s face it, only a fraction of people are capable of reconciling the awful thing that was done and showing compassion upon those who caused it to happen.  You’d be outnumbered if you chose love over “the usual.”  It’s a concept that works much better in theory than in practice. 

But what would it look like to be known as the town that chose love over libel? The town that chose redemption over retribution?  The town that determined not to throw away any of its children? The town that said, “Justice must be served and we accept that, but while justice is having her way, WE will rally together on behalf of all those involved and provide the support necessary to ensure the rehabilitative portion of the penalty.”

This calling is not for the cowardly: those who prefer to stay silent when words need to be said or action needs to be taken, can’t help but declare loudly their opinions before knowing the facts, or spew hatred from behind the safety of a computer screen things they’d never be brave enough to say in public.  Only those who understand the nature of redemption and how it applies in this situation can fully get behind an audacious move as this one. Is there anyone in this town who has experienced redemption?  

As a community, only a handful of people are cognizant of the events that took place on October 12 and they are not at liberty to divulge until called upon to do so in court.  So let’s make a new commitment. Let’s allow the suspects the most fundamental tenet of the law—the one that states that they are in fact innocent until proven guilty (regardless of what you heard was distributed on social media).  Let’s speak up when outsiders, or insiders, speak hatefully about these young people and the things they hope or think should happen to them and at least get the message across that Hopkinsville citizens are not okay with the violence—any of it.  Let’s try something different and new and unique and come together to support the victim, his family and friends, the suspects and their families and to educate each other to prevent anything like this happening again. 

#WeCareAboutOurKids

#RedemptionIsGreaterThanRetribution

#SolidarityInHoptown

#RiseAboveItHoptown

Am I alone here?

Sincerely,

C. Arnold

Paybacks are a Bear Market

What does it look like to really invest in a person?  I mean to forsake all common sense, ignore whispers and disdainful looks, keep a smile on your face when those well-meaning people shake their head any say, “bless your heart,” risk jealousy, disappointment, and rejection, knowing that there will be no guarantee that your investment will pay off?  What does that look like?  Many will never know because there is an invisible line that they simply won’t cross.  That line looks different for everyone, but there is a line.  I have one too.

The truth is, we juggle a lot of mixed messages and one of those messages teeters between full investment in a human being and calling it quits while your dignity stays intact.  We listen with both ears to the messages spewing out of both sides of the mouthpiece.  But investment in people is risky, disappointing, and messy.

If you’re reading this, I hope you have had someone invest fully in you.  For most of us, that role belongs to our parents.  The invisible line for parents is far more generous than it will be for teachers, coaches, youth ministers, or peers.  Parents will trip over, stomp on, and physically relocate that invisible line to the detriment of their own health and sanity; it takes a lot to dissuade a parent.  But what about those who do not have such a luxury as parents?  What about those whose only investors have steered clear of the invisible line for fear of stepping in where they’re not welcome, unraveling a mess as a result of innocently getting involved, bowed to the peer pressure not to cast their pearls before swine, uncovered information that they don’t want to touch with a ninety-nine and a half foot pole? 

Sometimes, it doesn’t take a village to raise a child.  Sometimes, it just takes one investor willing to kick the invisible line a little farther out than it was; willing to endure whispers of disapproval and “bless your hearts” from peers; willing to look foolish and pour far more into a person than he’s going to get out of him.  Our system is broken, but it’s not because the state has ruined anyone.  It’s because the state is not capable of compassion and yet the investment of children who lack the most important resource—parents/investors—is placed in its care.  It’s an oxymoron.  While the state is staffed with people who care, the system itself simply is not capable, therefore the investors must choose to invest in a risky fund or steer entirely clear. 

A risky investment is one in which the yield results in a higher than average return, but there is a high probability of loss.  It’s not hard to see how this relates to children. 

As a resource, parents are a hot commodity.  Their role is to invest and it takes the form of time, energy, patience, love, coaching, pain, tears, sweat, ego, restlessness, wisdom, just to name a few.  The currency that is invested is as vast as the problems any given child can face.  For many investors, the invisible line is where their own ego is tested.  Once it looks like the investment won’t pay off in terms of appreciation, humility, or at least a happy ending, that is when they’ll most likely pull out.

But here’s the clincher: they pull out not because they’re tired or hurt.  They pull out because they’ve honestly bought the lie—hook, line, and sinker—that they are practicing tough love.  As there’s no official definition of tough love, let’s just say it looks like people giving up.  Of course, there’s no judgment from me!  We can only do so much.  We’ve got our own lives and families to look out for and some people just will never get their acts together.  It’s completely understandable and even acceptable. But I can’t help wonder what would happen if more often investors didn’t pull out but continued pouring the resources into a child no matter what.  So the kids fails a class at school, do you pull out or keep pushing?  So he doesn’t graduate, do you pull out or keep pushing?  So he ignores every piece of great advice you’ve ever given him, do you pull out or keep pushing?  So he ignores every act of kindness you offer, do you pull out or keep pushing?  So he lands in jail . . . maybe that’s when you should pull out, but what if you didn’t?  What if you kept pushing?  What would that look like? 

The story doesn’t end with a failed class or prison sentence.  Do you want a chance at seeing the end of the story?  Then don’t give up!  Don’t pull out, because THIS is what it sounds like, “My God, my God! Why have you abandoned me? … It is finished (Mark 15:33 & Luke 19:30).” This is what the full investment looks like. It’s not pretty.  You won’t get a pat on the back. You’re far more likely to be criticized than applauded.  Your peers will tell you it’s not worth it—that he’s not worth it. His peers will shake their heads and wonder why you invested in him and not them.  And when you ask yourself if you’ve done the right thing, take inventory of the advocates, defenders, protectors, and parents and ask who needed it most?  The story is not over until God says it is, so don’t be afraid to move that invisible line a little farther toward that troubled kid.  Be willing to make risky investments in him even if you don’t get the payoff you had hoped to get. 

When I sit by my foster kids’ beds at night and tuck them in, I can’t help but review all the battles of the day in my head and wearily perform this last task so I can sign off for my shift. I think of all the outbursts, ugly words, sibling competition for my attention, and the never ending list of needs that I quite frankly just don’t want to provide for them and I ask myself—do they have someone else who will invest in them?  And as I shuffle out their bedroom door at night, I kick that invisible line a little farther toward the front door and make a commitment not to give up on them. For at least one more day. 

Marriage Observations of a 25-year Veteran

If you can't get over the idea of the author writing this post on her cellphone in the bathtub without the proper editing it likely deserves, then you're free to continue doing whatever it was you were doing before you stumbled upon this blog. I've written too many blog posts that will never see the light of cyberspace due to my fear of typos, disagreement, and general critique. If you're still with me, go ahead and get comfy; I won't judge.
This post is primarily directed at young people who are not yet married or who have recently gotten married.
1) Your spouse will let you down. If he --my spouse is a man, so I'll refer to spouses in the masculine-- doesn't let you down, you haven't been together long enough.
2) Great sex is cultivated; not magically assigned. If you aren't having some awkwardness in your bedroom, you're probably not making love enough. Ironically, the more you make love, the better the sex gets. It's a vicious cycle, I know but the more you trust someone, the better the sex will get! This is why I advocate that the healthiest sex is with one partner for life. Excuse me while I crouch behind the bathtub wall to avoid the killer looks I'm probably getting. If your sex life is flawless and awesome, then good for you. Really, I mean it :)
3) It's ok to be unhappily married. No, it should not stay that way, but if you're married to a human, your marriage will be unhappy at times. As a young wife, I was always afraid to acknowledge even to myself that marriage wasn't all I had hoped it would be. I feared that unhappiness signaled a failed relationship. If you find yourself unhappily married, don't let the red flags frighten you from fixing it. Seek help from a professional marriage counselor--one who will help you invest in your relationship rather than give you excuses to end it.
4) Your spouse probably doesn't know exactly how to romance you. The good news is: you're the most qualified person on the planet to teach him how! Watch this clip from Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage with Mark Gungor http://youtu.be/Adsx4BQHvUw Ladies, there's pretty much one way to romance your guy and the only requirement is that you show up. Quit scowling, it's true.
5) Abuse is NEVER OK!! Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do for another person is to remove yourself (and your children) in order to give your spouse the room and the help he or she needs to overcome such other-and self-destructing behavior. (I purposely switched to gender pronouns in order to emphasize that abuse is no respecter of sex). I'm not advocating for divorce; that is a personal choice each couple must make. But staying within arm's reach (or vocal reach) of an abuser is NOT loving them OR yourself. If you're not sure if you're in an abusive relationship, check here for some guidance http://biblicalcounselingcoalition.org/blogs/2013/10/01/responding-to-emotional-abuse-in-marriage/
6) Submission is always a decision and choice you make yourself. One cannot be forced to submit whether by actions or words from another person; It is then called coercion, domination or even abuse. If you aren't choosing to submit, then it's not happening; and if you're being forced, then you need to look at #5. This goes both ways, folks, wives AND husbands submit to each other but only when they trust each other.
7) You may find yourself strongly attracted to someone else. It may be so strong that you question whether you married the right person. First, rest assured attraction does not equal infidelity. Second, your marriage isn't built on attraction, it's built on trust. Seeking professional advice is the best course of action and I refer you again to #3 above.
Well, I'm getting pretty pruney by now so I best wrap this up. Please direct all insults, complaints, and fiery darts to my full-time, well-paid, professionally-dressed, and expertly-skilled assistant.

One Last Song

What if You're waiting for the last song on earth
If that were the key to revealing Your worth?
Would the orchestral score summon Your bride
With the longing refrain of that lullaby?

What if your patience was dependent upon
A measure of eighths that had yet to be sung?
With Your trumpeter anxious to join the applause
As he waits in the wings for the ultimate cause?

What if all symphonies paled in the din
Of the peal of the bells that would usher You in
That the greatest of songs from the depth of all time
Could not hold a candle to this final rhyme?

And then what if each combination of notes
Just brought You closer to bringing us home?
And what David had started in the courts of the king
That comforted Saul by playing the strings

Was scratching the surface of Your infinite plan
And with each new melody, moving Your hand?
Would poets be more inclined to submit
Their craft at a rate that could fully outfit

The melodies waiting for words to complete them
And harmonies longingly searching for freedom?
Would songwriters furiously notate their score
Faster and faster till Your final encore?

How many songs can eight notes compose
And how is it that a songwriter knows
That this one has never before been sung
By the angels or man in any known tongue?

What if this song was kept by a beat
Of a heart that was trapped and a mouth that couldn't speak
If the song You awaited was called by a name
The lyrics of which had been written with shame?

But somehow the writer has failed to take note
The potential of beauty that this song could hold?
And unknowing his error, he fails to compose
The symphony that so longs to unfold?

If You were waiting on that one final piece
That one perfect opus, Your power to unleash?
Would lyricists double their efforts at all
In order to answer and heed Your call?