Imagine you thought you could change the world. No. Not the whole frickin’ thing, just bits and pieces…
Imagine you thought you could do it by taking care of troubled children–oh, sure, it wouldn’t be fun…
There would be the loss, for instance.
People would treat you like you had the plague.
Your family would say you must be doing something wrong.
But you would plough through. Deeply imperfect but there. And, yes, better than the alternative.
You would do it because you believed. You believed in nurture. You believed in God.
Imagine if you did all that and then, well, it seemed like the little tikes turned out to be losers. Yep. Remarkably similar to their genetic roots. Real bonafide knuckleheads.
If you got discouraged I would tell you what I tell myself.
We are all losers without Jesus.
And…it ain’t over till it’s over, girl.
Can’t drown love. They tried once. He just rose again. My kind of Loser.