"John", courtesy adoption class

[Jay Temple]

We missed one session of our fostering/adoption class a couple weeks ago, and we made it up by going to the same session offered at night. The group who holds that session is a Christian organization who views adoptive and foster parenting as a Christian mission, and they teach the class accordingly. Sadly, it led to their opening our session with this ...

JOHN (author and source not identified on the copy they gave us)

You just can't stop love.
It crushes barriers.
It breaks and builds bridges.
It finds a way through.
It never gives up.
It's hard work.
It listens.
It walks ten extra miles.
It's something you do.
Jesus did it for me.
He died to set me free.
He lives to share my life with me
and I go to His
and my
people
and love wins.

One kid,
his name was John,
walked around with his head down all the time.
He never looked you in the eye,
and if you ever got close to him,
he shuddered.
One day John wasn't there,
and I said to the kids,
"Let's try an experiment.
Let's really love John.
I mean,
really love him.
As we've never loved anyone before.
Let's just see what love can do for John."
He was the most inhibited, insecure kid
I had ever seen in my life.
From that moment on
we asked Jesus to help us love John.
We sent him letters.
We wrote notes during the week.
We stopped by to buy him a Coke.
After six months of loving John,
the kids started to get tired.
"Gee, Ann,
you don't know what it's like to love John.
You call him at home
to see how his week is going
and he says 'M-m-m, OK.'
John, you say,
I really have been thinking of you
and I love you,
and he just grunts."

But I'll never forget the morning
we were all gathered together,
and suddenly--
John smiled.
We had never seen John smile.
He really smiled.
And two weeks later when he laughed out loud,
it nearly blew our minds.
No one wanted John to notice
but they were all trying to signal me--
"Had I noticed?
John laughed,
he really laughed."

Three weeks later
his mother, who was a non-Christian--
the whole family was a non-Christian--
called me and said,
"Ann,
last weekend we were in the mountains camping.
John is 16
and I haven't seen him cry since he was five.
But he started to cry and bawl and sob.
And after four hours
I was almost frantic
and I asked him why he was crying like this.
All he could say over and over was
'I'm such a fialure, Mom,
I'm such a flop.'
And finally I said,
'It's that church you're going to,
they're not treating you right.'
And he said as he shook his head,
'No, no.
It's my only hope, Mom.
They love me over there.'"
And she said,
"It seemed like the minute he said that,
the minute he came out and share that with me,
he began to dry his tears,
and he straightened his back
and held his head up.
And it's strange,
he's never been the same since.
[There's a quotation mark missing. I assume it belongs at the end of that last line.]

And in the group
he began to laugh alot (sic),
he began to share in conversational prayer when we prayed.
He began to bring a friend on Sunday,
and two friends the next Sunday;
and he became the best softball player we ever had.
For the first time in his life,
he had the courage to play ball.

Love changed John's life--
just love.

You can do one of two things in your world.
You can build a wall
or you can build a bridge
to every person you meet.
I'm out to build bridges,
are you?
Come and build bridges with me.
Sir,
can I take your hand?
Or yours ma'am?
Can I pick you up little boy
and hold you in my lap
and kiss your cold face
even if it's dirty?
Can I love you to Him?
Can I love you so much
through thick and thin
until you learn
that Jesus really cares for you?
Can I love you until you feel hope for your world
and your tomorrows?
that's my hope.

The whole thing makes me cringe, but the part about "pick you up, little boy" just raises all kinds of red flags.