Monday, February 7, 2011

Thought He Found Religion

We sat in the living room, knee to knee, eye to eye.

"Remember how much we played together as kids?" I asked.

"We did? I don't remember ever playing with you?" he answered.

His parents had asked that I make copies of the pictures I had of the two of us over the years. Best friends playing together. He didn't remember. To him I was a total stranger.

What happens when children leave home and enter into a world that controls them? Would we be afraid to step in? Would we be afraid to get help in releasing them from a powerful church? Would we get them the help they needed for the brainwashing they had experienced? How far would we go?

We live in such a large country. I have often said to my foreign born friends that they cannot criticize a county in which their small country would fit several times over. Some of our states are as large as countries. We are a government of many. Are we flawless? No. Sometimes we are surprised at what is permitted within our boundaries.

Pods of destruction live in our country. Those who would control. Those who would take over. Those who would destroy.

So do we bury our heads? Do we justify ourselves? Do we turn a blind eye to the evil that waits for our children, for us?

He sat with me, a blank page stripped of his history and his family. I mourned the loss of this once boy I loved. Of the child who sat with me in a wagon of freshly-combined wheat and rode up in the air with me in the loader on the tractor. Of the boy who ran from a bee attack and who shared the family events with me. Of a boy who lost himself on the west coast. Where was that boy? Where had his memories been mislaid?

Vigilance. Involvement. Participation. Communication. Being brave adults, we can make a difference. Standing up to the unknown, we can make a change. Sometimes following our children into hell and dragging them back again is the only way to save them.

A little boy grew up and thought he found religion.

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