Well, my family has recently grown.
And no, we didn’t have a baby.
We adopted a second dog.
This is Matilda Perkins. She’s a 2-year-old wheaten terrier and we love her.
Now, when we got her we really were not really ready for another dog. I mean, we already had Theodore, a 2-year-old miniature schnauzer.
But when we walked into the place where we found her, our hearts melted. It was as if we knew she was supposed to go home with us.
And after going home to talk it over with my wife we went back and got her.
Immediately she behaved as if she had known us for years.
She knew she was finally home.
She knew she was finally loved.
Now, this has caused me to think quite a bit. You see, for years, I was against adopting an animal. I thought that they had to come from a breeder and they had to be a puppy.
Because I did not want to deal with someone else’s problem.
I mean, dogs up for adoption must have something wrong with them, right?
Maybe the previous owner couldn’t house-train the dog?
Maybe the dog didn’t do well around people?
Maybe the dog had been beaten and as a result, had become deeply wounded emotionally.
I don’t know.
I just know I didn’t want to deal with someone else’s problems.
But you want to know what’s even more sad?
The fact that we do this in the church.
Think about it.
We say we want to reach people. We say we want to grow the Kingdom. We say we want to whatever it takes.
We want the people we reach need to be exactly like us.
We want the people we reach to come from the same upbringing.
We want the people we reach to come from the same socio-economic background.
They need to think just like we do.
And if we’re real honest, we’d much rather reach someone who attends another church, because, well, they already understand how church “works.”
It’s sad but true.
We are reluctant to minister to the homeless.
We are reluctant to minister to prostitutes.
We are reluctant to minister to drug addicts.
Because we don’t want to deal with other people’s problems.
It’s as if we’re afraid their brokenness or what we wrongfully consider dirtiness, will rub off on us somehow.
Can I be honest?
I think heaven is going to be full of people who were messed up.
And it’s our job to point those who need Jesus to Him by bringing them into our families. It’s our job to love them fiercely, despite their past.
Because when we do, when we willingly bring people in, they’ll know that they’re home.
They’ll know that they are loved.
And that’s what matters.
I’m ready to get messy.