One perk of this cancer recovery has been the relief it is to lose myself in a engaging book. Works even better than a romantic romp on the Hallmark Channel! Distracts me from the physiological warfare going on in my body. I am presently reading “White Oleander” by Janet Fitch, and am aghast at the brokenness of the foster “care” system that the young girl, Astrid, must navigate. Makes my chemo journey seem like a stroll down Rodeo Drive. So many times I see Goth-looking teenagers looking half dead at their smoky, gathering stations and feel a judgmentalism seep in. WHAT is WRONG with them? WHY those DESTRUCTIVE choices? Life is better than that. But reading behind the scenes of a book like this expands that little swatch of “what I know about their life,” blasting open the door for compassion. Sometimes those dark life choices are born of such internal pain that the person comes to believe that misery is all they deserve. Thus the self-destructive decisions. Breaks my heart. Especially when I know how much God loves and cherishes them. Sooo God, I can’t fix every broken system in the world, or even convince someone that they are worthwhile and precious in Your sight (and mine), but I CAN conjure up compassion with gentleness… remembering that I have only one small sliver of their story, that is vastly more complex than I will ever know. Gentle Jesus, find them and embrace them, horror story and all.