Somebody Else’s Child: That Man on The Street

It is interesting how your perspective changes in a variety of ways when you have a child with mental illness or with addiction. Things that used to be very much black and white have a tendency to blur around the edges. Areas of life that have inspired judgment or impatience may now, instead, engender compassion.

Several years ago, my OCD son and I were driving to a therapy appointment when we passed a man on the side of the road. This man was standing in a median, starting one way and then another, talking and gesticulating wildly. As we sat stopped at a red light, my son asked me what was wrong with the man. I responded by telling my son that I didn’t know, but that something was obviously not quite right. Whether he was on drugs, needing medications, or whatever the case may have been, he was obviously “messed up.”

After a pause, my son proceeded to say, “I’m afraid I am going to end up like that some day.” I wish I could say that the thought shocked me, but my husband and I had already discussed similar fears. Even so, my heart ached for him as he sat looking at what he feared his future held. At that point in time, OCD had such a grip on him that it only seemed to be getting worse, never better. A future where he was unable to make a living, make rational choices, or function in a normal way seemed to be slipping through his grasp.

Have you experienced that moment? You, like me, may have come to a place where you see your child in the man or woman on the street corner or in the news. It changes your perspective, for sure. No longer is that individual seen with the same disdain or judgment. They are seen as somebody else’s child.

Fast forward a few years and our son who struggles with addiction was pulled off the street by a police officer. In that moment, “somebody else’s child” was our own.

As hard as these experiences have been, they have definitely shaped my ability to feel compassion. So often, I ask myself how that man or woman on the street ended up there. Yes, it could be bad decisions or even their own choice. But, I always wonder – is there something else? And, where is their family? I ache for the mom and the dad, the siblings and grandparents of this soul.

You may be reading this while your child is on the streets. You may be unsure of where they are or if they are ok. You may live in dread of the phone call. If that is you, I am so sorry. I know from others I have spoken with that it is a difficult place to live. It takes a lot of deep breathing and meditation and prayer to get to the point where you can find some peace in this. If you don’t have a support group, I would encourage you to find one. Find a group who can help you be strong and to make decisions that will help your child choose a different life.

For the rest of us, I would encourage you to pray for those on the streets and for their families. Making their lives “easier” on the streets is not necessarily the answer, sometimes being uncomfortable is the best incentive to get clean or make other healthy choices. But, treating the individual as a person who has value and is loved is one way of being Christ to that person. How would I want others to treat my son or daughter if they were in the same situation? Remembering that this man or woman is someone’s child can go a long way in terms of shifting how we perceive and interact with others.

Photo by Trym Nilsen on Unsplash