Pockets

The mid-twenties something man stood next to his dad in the lobby of our church. He looked sparkling,  clean-cut and just a bit self-conscious. If I hadn’t known better, I might have thought he was a soldier home on leave; but that was not the case. His presence there, at that moment in time, was a visible testament to his dad’s unfaltering and unconditional love, commitment and determination to get his son back. The truth of the matter is that he had just returned home after serving almost two and a half years in a Federal facility on a drug charge. As we chatted he remarked to me, “My dad warned me that I was messing up. I didn’t pay any attention to my dad and it got me 29 months in jail”.

I could tell he was becoming emotional. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down and he began to sob. Then he said the strangest thing. These pockets sure feel good! You know in jail you don’t have pockets; it’s amazing what you don’t think about until you don’t have it.”  The young man then removed his glasses and the tears overflowed from his crystal-clear eyes. I hugged him and told him that we all loved him. I don’t think I’ll ever take pockets for granted again.

Something to Think About

John

© 2017 John Gouldener All Rights Reserved

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