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The Necklace

Cleaning out his attic
He found a necklace of old
Not a thing of beauty
But a story it did behold

He made it when he was nine
Gave it to his mum with pride
She gave it straight back
And it went into a draw to hide

Forty plus years later it surfaced
The story of a life of pain
Many the presents given
Many returned again and again

Nothing he did was good enough
No matter the lives he saved
Others good deeds were paraded
As an example of how he should have behaved

The presents were carefully chosen
They were not cheap and nasty crap
But it became a cycle of mean rejection
And he was caught in the giving trap

They wanted his mind and soul
Nothing else would do
So all else was just returned
Or dumped far from view

They never got his mind or soul
What they got was naught at all
For one day he walked away
Upright, free and tall

And the necklace hangs in the spare room
Where childhood dreams are now fulfilled
There is no more broken spirit of the child
But a future now brightly filled

So poignant ... a very sad beginning. I like how the poem ends though!

I cannot fathom a mother refusing a handmade gift from her 9-year-old son. Cannot fathom it at all.

Again I wonder, what in the world is wrong with some parents?? Some parents who were -- or are -- members of a mission organization and should know better???

It honestly makes one wonder what kind of effectiveness such people could ever have in cross-cultural ministry, if they aren't even capable of nurturing and loving their own children.

NTM tried to cover everything in their 2-5-year training program.

I think something was still sadly missing from their extensive curriculum.

Humanity was missing
Knowing how to really care
Not bashing into the Kingdom of heaven
Was somehow defined as "Share"

The ability to truly listen
To a soft spoken childs cry
Not screaming guilt and crucifixion
"Jesus for you had to die!!!"

The dismissal of others wisdom
Was ignorance personified
That anyone who chanted not Triber Mantra
Was an agent of "the other side"

And the line "God wants you broken"
Followed by a beating of the mind
Converted in fear of damnation
Not a desire to peace really find

So the necklace and other gifts returned
Were a symbol of rejected love
For humanity and kindness were lost
For a cause that was placed above

Perhaps the person in the poem
Should auction all returned gifts one day
And see what price there is on love
That for decades was thrown away

_________________
Written by Iwillflyagain!

I heard the mother in the poem
Never came home from Foreign Field
They brought her home in body
But her mind it did not yield

She's still tramping in her immagination
The hills of foreign land
Following her man of god
The leader of her band

There's a vacant look in her eye
She speaks of times divine
Like some sort of Mills and Boon
Set in another stranger time

The years they come and go
She has little idea of the toll
No idea the necklace resurfaced
In the hands of a son now whole

And was it really worth it all
If you shouted that family name to native view
Would the resounding reply be just a puzzled
Who, who, who, who and who

They left no long lasting impression
For good upon many a native soul
Just tore that family up for a cause
That flushed them down a hole

And how many other families
Have suffered a similar fate
For they replaced genuine family love
With one eyed doctrinal hate

Tragic.

Absolutely and utterly tragic.

But there is one happy ending
For one member of this family
He pruned himself out
Of that crazy family tree

And now grows strongly
In destination far away
From the craziness and hopelessness
That was his yesterday

I hear he's doing very well
His loss is gain you see
Sometimes to fly truly high
From family you must set free

SO heartbreaking!
But at least one boy had a productive ending.
I know he still misses his mom.
That's just the way it is.
He can't change her---free will, you know.
And glad for it---
That's why we all fly free.
WE CHOOSE FREEDOM!
I am crying huge, large, grandiose
tears...........

Our boys---
We hung things on the walls
We brought things home from the field
But did we miss anything?