I grew up in Greenville, Florida. It is a small town that you could easily miss if you blink as driving through. It has my roots. It holds my memories of childhood.
I can’t imagine growing up anywhere else. And as I remember, I remember the people I really wanted to be friends with and those that never treated me as an outcast. I remember hurt from the ones that I really wanted to be friends with. I remember isolation and ugly attitudes. Bad memories for a childhood, huh?
But those that never treated me as an outcast. They always treated me the same. I don’t remember pain from them. I remember a camaraderie that I didn’t ever seem to quite have with my “friends.” Strange statement, I know. But let me explain.
Growing up in the 1970s in North Florida kept me from really experiencing what it was for those that had to live in a time of segregation. Everyone attended the same schools. Used the same restrooms. No one had some predetermined preferential treatment. Or at least in my eyes they didn’t. Everyone had the same opportunity as me. Or so I thought.
I certainly felt no special entitlement. As a matter of fact, I never felt quite good enough. Something was missing in me and I couldn’t put my finger on it. A longing in my heart for inclusion. To belong. To have unconditional friends.
Fast-forward 40 years. (Man, time flies!) There is a little church building in the middle of nowhere. Yes, isolation is still something I am drawn to. I call this little building my “church home.” And it isn’t the building as much as it is the people.
There have been those in the last 20 years of membership that have reminded me of my “friends” from childhood. They leave something to be desired from a friend. I honestly shouldn’t call them friends; let’s say acquaintances. Then there are those that I know I could call at 2:00 am and they would come running. There is a difference. This is segregation. And it has nothing to do with the color of our skin!
It has everything to do with attitudes and opinions. And it has everything to do with belonging.
My church home started a ministry outreach 4 years ago. Spiritual and physical nutrition. Spiritual first!
But He answered and said, “It is written, “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God.” Matthew 4:4 (NASB)
Physical nutrition will only take you to the grave eventually. But spiritual nutrition prepares you for eternal life!
This week may be the final week of that ministry. But as I look back to the time, I remember my childhood. And the friendships that have been forged in 4 years remind me of those that never treated me as an outcast. No segregation in this ministry.
So, I am here asking you to pray. Sincerely, earnestly pray over the next few days. Pray for God’s guidance as decisions are made. Pray God’s will be done. Pray that the compassion poured out will be from Him and not from people that feel too busy to reach out and love.
I welcome your thoughts!
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