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.