A friend of mine suffers from PTSD, a leftover terror from having been a victim of human trafficking as a young girl—repeatedly gang raped and beaten. I can't even imagine what her life has been like, especially when I see the loving, giving person she is now, and the healing that she offers to others simply by being in their lives.
Recently, she posted on Facebook about how important it is for parents to let their kids come home, no matter how much they've messed up. When the waking terrors come—re-living the moments of being trapped, of crouching in a corner while being kicked and beaten—the most mournful feeling of all for her is the desire to "go home," and knowing that she can't.
Deep down, we all have that desire to "go home," and the overwhelming feeling that we are trapped in this lost, foreign place. In our spirits, we know that we don't belong here, or else we wouldn't have such a longing.
Because the enemy is so entrenched in this world, many people live in the heavy fog of oppression. That fog makes it difficult for them to envision a loving Father running down the road with open arms to embrace them, put the ring of inheritance on their finger, and throw them a big party.
But we are called to clear the fog, to be a light in the darkness that will help them see the Father's face. We are called to proclaim the Good News about the loving embrace and the "welcome home." They may not believe us, but we must tell them anyway. Tell them they can come home.
Comments