Tales from a Mid-Lifer

The addict in front of me on a Thursday afternoon is free from prison, but according to his Dad, remains in a caged mentality.

I happened upon him and his father, randomly crossing paths the day after the 30-year old was paroled. The addiction which led to theft for cash to buy, eventually landed him a prison sentence, originally expected to be short-term. Ongoing behavior while incarcerated delayed his release several times.

Not having seen each other in many years, he hugged me and openly cried about his time away. Tears immediately ran down my face. Within minutes, his sadness gave way to fury, professing deep convictions in an increasingly loud voice that nothing was his fault and the system was rigged. He paced the concrete sidewalk, rambling and accusing, regarding unfair treatment by fellow inmates and staff.

Without question, there are injustices against every one of us – at school, at work, in prison. In this case, there was a non-violent crime – but that was no consolation for those who hard earned something that was repeatedly stolen.

During the brief few minutes I listened to him, sincere sadness swept over me for him, his parents and the world at large, this earthly existence rarely being easy.

I turned toward his Dad who was slowly rising off a bench, after silently watching us. His son and I bid farewell as the son walked into the adjacent store.

Dad spoke to me with somber eyes, requesting continued prayers. He said he would not excuse his son’s comments, nor the theatrical, loud tone. Dad explained that the young man’s words were well-rehearsed since the teen years with resource officers and judges. He told me his son had just recounted common experiences of all who are incarcerated, all who haven’t been sober in years, the goal to convince that the squirrel over there is the problem. I nodded politely, asking God to make the young man one of the overcomers.

As we parted ways, Dad smiled, saying he had a clear conscience, knowing he had done everything from zero communication to paying outrageous sums for treatment. The rest was up to the son.

That encounter impressed upon me that no matter how bleak it appears, it is also true that we can change. Improve. Grow. Recover. It is possible and usually hard. A few decades into this earthly life, everyone has experienced something difficult or downright excruciating. Physically, mentally, emotionally and/or spiritually wrestling with God. Sometimes we bring circumstances on ourselves, other times, there is a stunning stretch of bad things happening to good humans.

At mid-life, most are still striving to overcome in some areas while already experiencing victory in other things. We have lived long enough to observe people grow and others wither after being hurt, suffering injustice or making terrible choices.

For the young man and for us…whatever the struggle… it’s not too late to earn our victory.

Persevere my fellow pilgrim. Despite the hard, we can finish strong.

Prisoner: newsroom.ucla.edu Don’t give up: etsy.com; Julie Andrews: Pinterest