The seeds of a man’s destruction are planted deeply within his own heart.
This thought has been on my mind for several weeks now. Partly for personal reasons and partly from the experiences I’ve had in my professional life. These experiences have made me focus on the beliefs and mindsets, as well as what I have thought to be, “True” throughout my life. It’s been both affirming, as well as illuminating the things that are of little value in my life.
In large part, I believe that we are born individuals, with inherent personalities. This is modified by the experiences that happen to us, as well as the actions we take in life. It’s these actions that take us along one of many of life’s paths.
I recently spoke with a man who had found the end of his path. He’d called 911 and needed help. As my partner and I spoke with him, we found that he had grown up in an inner city where he began to abuse alcohol and cigarettes. He was raised with a heavy dependence on his racial identity, as well as the belief that the, “good life” lay on the path of money, and perceived power. He lived that life, repeating the same cycles over and over, until in his latter 30’s he found himself addicted, empty, and in despair. 30 plus years of living with a belief system came crashing down when he found that that system was as empty as the packaging it came in.
We spoke as we drove to the councilor’s office and I could sense a change in his heart. This was the turning point in his life and it was apparent that he was now seeing the hope that there was something more to life, as well as a chance to place his feet on another path.
As a Police Officer, I have the unique opportunity to visit numerous families and homes. This affords me the chance to observe family and personal dynamics from a perspective, often times more objectively than the people therein. I watch as child after child is sent off on the same path, never knowing that it leads to nowhere.
On this path, there is no guide but the distant laughter and glittering promises of fun and excitement. It’s as a mirage, just out of grasp. Drawing them further and further into the desert; never knowing until the end that it was empty vapor.
I watch the teenage young men who are fairly advanced on their journey along this path. Theirs is the pathway of “pain management.” Not anger management mind you, as that is what gives them a sense of power and control over their situations.
These are the young men, whom as children lived in homes full of anger, dysfunctional communication and violence. These were the children to whom Santa rarely came.
I thought for my last piece in this column, I could write a nice fluffy piece about Santa and Christmas memories and the like, but that wasn’t what was in my heart. I believe in Christmas. I believe in Christ. And during this holiday season, I’m choosing to do my little part, whenever I get a call to deal with someone on that path, to do my best to help them see another way.
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This thought has been on my mind for several weeks now. Partly for personal reasons and partly from the experiences I’ve had in my professional life. These experiences have made me focus on the beliefs and mindsets, as well as what I have thought to be, “True” throughout my life. It’s been both affirming, as well as illuminating the things that are of little value in my life.
In large part, I believe that we are born individuals, with inherent personalities. This is modified by the experiences that happen to us, as well as the actions we take in life. It’s these actions that take us along one of many of life’s paths.
I recently spoke with a man who had found the end of his path. He’d called 911 and needed help. As my partner and I spoke with him, we found that he had grown up in an inner city where he began to abuse alcohol and cigarettes. He was raised with a heavy dependence on his racial identity, as well as the belief that the, “good life” lay on the path of money, and perceived power. He lived that life, repeating the same cycles over and over, until in his latter 30’s he found himself addicted, empty, and in despair. 30 plus years of living with a belief system came crashing down when he found that that system was as empty as the packaging it came in.
We spoke as we drove to the councilor’s office and I could sense a change in his heart. This was the turning point in his life and it was apparent that he was now seeing the hope that there was something more to life, as well as a chance to place his feet on another path.
As a Police Officer, I have the unique opportunity to visit numerous families and homes. This affords me the chance to observe family and personal dynamics from a perspective, often times more objectively than the people therein. I watch as child after child is sent off on the same path, never knowing that it leads to nowhere.
On this path, there is no guide but the distant laughter and glittering promises of fun and excitement. It’s as a mirage, just out of grasp. Drawing them further and further into the desert; never knowing until the end that it was empty vapor.
I watch the teenage young men who are fairly advanced on their journey along this path. Theirs is the pathway of “pain management.” Not anger management mind you, as that is what gives them a sense of power and control over their situations.
These are the young men, whom as children lived in homes full of anger, dysfunctional communication and violence. These were the children to whom Santa rarely came.
I thought for my last piece in this column, I could write a nice fluffy piece about Santa and Christmas memories and the like, but that wasn’t what was in my heart. I believe in Christmas. I believe in Christ. And during this holiday season, I’m choosing to do my little part, whenever I get a call to deal with someone on that path, to do my best to help them see another way.
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