Let me tell you some things I know about my friend, Kellen.
In many ways, he's a decent and fairly ordinary guy.
He loves:
watching professional sports,
listening to music,
swimming, fishing, hanging out on his cousin's boat,
playing tennis, working out, riding bikes with his uncle,
throwing around a football or a baseball, or kicking around a soccer ball,
eating,
cooking,
Jesus,
and spending time with the people he loves,
especially his nine-year-old son.
Kellen and I have known each other for a year and a half now, and I can tell you for a fact that he is a deep thinker and interesting conversationalist, open to examining his own life and willing to consider new possibilities.
He's also thoughtful, considerate, and devoted to being a good friend. I can always count on him to be honest with me, and to hear my blunt questions with positive intent. He says thank you a lot, and opens doors for me.
Kellen and I are friends. Good, solid, tried-and-true friends.
And while all those wonderful things about Kellen are 100% factual and true, there is something else you should know.
Kellen is a heroin addict.
For somewhere around fifteen years, he has battled many demons:
using pretty much every street drug he can get his hands on,
stealing from the people he loves,
committing felonies,
running from the police,
destroying relationships with his loved ones,
living a life of utter chaos.
He's gone to rehab, experienced horrible withdrawals, sobered up, relapsed, run back to the streets, more times than he can count or even remember.
He's been arrested, convicted of felonies, and served time in prison.
He's told a shocking number of lies, in order to save himself from even deeper trouble.
He's turned his life over to Jesus, then fallen away, over and over again.
And I will tell you the honest truth. Sometimes it is hard to be Kellen's friend. It's hard to see him want to do the right thing in his life, only to struggle and fall down, time and time again. It's hard to watch him make the mistakes that addicts make, and know that I cannot fix him. It's hard to remind myself, over and over again, that he has to figure this out for himself.
But of all the things I know about Kellen, this is the most true.
God loves him.
I have never in my life seen so many miracles fall into one person's life.
I have no words to describe the wild twists and turns that happen in Kellen's life every week or so, that allow him to keep walking on a path toward sobriety.
I have observed countless times that when Kellen makes even a tiny effort to do the right thing, God takes his step forward and multiplies it, many times over, to bring good into Kellen's life, right when he needs it most.
Lord knows Kellen hasn't yet reached his destination of sober living. But God seems utterly determined to remove the obstacles in his way and give him the second, third, fourth...Twentieth, thirtieth, fortieth chances that he needs to keep on walking in the right direction.
And so if there is any one thing I would like you to know about my friend, Kellen, it's this:
His painful, chaotic, off-the-rails life is living proof, right before my very eyes, that
no matter what we do wrong,
no matter how far we fall,
no matter how many times we screw up,
God loves us, far more than we can ever understand.
No comments:
Post a Comment