The Fatherless

Dead end streets are supposed to be peaceful right?

You move to a dead end street to get away from the traffic, to have at least one side without neighbors. Living on a dead end street isn't a place for work. It's not a place for "ministry." It's a place to relax to recharge before going back to the emotionally draining life of ministry. Or is it?

There is a portable basketball hoop across the street from my house. My new house. My first house. Everyday there are a bunch of neighborhood kids who play hoops there all day long. But they don't just play in the street, they play in our driveway. Their bikes are always in my yard. That's an insurance liability isn't it? There is barely enough space for me to back out of my driveway as it is, without a portable basketball hoop, with dozens of bricks piled on the back of it, just sitting in the middle of the street.

Sometimes I feel like taking out my paintball gun. Maybe even putting on my camouflage face paint that makes me look like a crazy army ranger dude. I wouldn't shoot anyone. I would just walk around my yard with my paintball gun. Or maybe set up practice targets in the front lawn. I would turn up the speed as high as it goes and cuss under my breath, but loud enough for anyone out in the street could hear me, as the paintballs clang against my trash can lid target.

This would drive the street kids away. The kids who think they are PDiddy. The kids who think they are Alan Iverson. The kids who talk trash and swear at each other. The kids who rest their basketballs on my car.

Maybe if I play Wilco all the time and loud enough, they would get sick of hearing alternative-country and leave. It would have been the equivalent of me watching TNN with my grandma as a kid. She knew how to get me outside. Turn on Randy Travis and the Grand Ole' Oprey and I'm outta there.

So what do I do? The exact opposite of what I really wanted to do. I play some 2 on 1 with them. I'm dunking (seven foot hoop), blocking shots (4 foot kids), and actually enjoying my time with them. I let them cheat and win (because I'm nice), but not without letting them know who's got skills.

And the next day as I'm trying to put my new grill together with incoherent instructions. They beg me to play some more. I told them "some other time." But I was amazed at how much they really wanted me to play. And I got to thinking. Most of these kids probably don't have fathers. The kid across the street lives with his mom and sisters. The other kids are down here everyday. There's nothing better at home. I wonder how many of them are escaping from conflict. Escaping to a world where their family isn't yelling at them. Where there's an adult who actually plays basketball with them.

I'm not saying I want to be a father figure to these kids by any means. In fact I don't want them to get too comfortable in my driveway. But I know that there is some healing that needs to be done in the kids lives. They need some kind of acceptance from me. They will eventually find it somewhere, I just hope it's in the right place. And maybe in the meantime I can help.

My father died when I was four, so God used people to fill in the gaps ever since. I went to "Father/Son" campouts and fishing trips with charitable men in our church. Then, my mother remarried when I was about 8. My step-dad has become a beacon of wisdom in my life. And in between there were times when I cried, but I knew that my times were in my heavenly father's hands.

Shortly after my dad died, I asked my mom "so who is my dad now?"
Fighting back tears she answered "God has promised to be your father." And he was.

So maybe I am supposed to be ministering to these kids. Maybe just a little sacrifice of comfort and time will pay off. Who knows? There's always the chance that they won't even remember me when the grow up. But maybe they will. Maybe I can leave a good taste in their mouths about God.

Maybe these kids are the modern fatherless.

Ps 68:5 "A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling."
Ps 82:3 "Vindicate the weak and fatherless; Do justice to the afflicted and destitute.
Ps 146:9 "The Lord protects the strangers; He supports the fatherless and the widow..."