Julie is at once the most gentle and unassuming, quietly courageous person I know. We've prayed mountains together for five years. You can read Julie's own blog
Truth, Justice and the American Way, but today I asked her to guest-post on Living From Her Heart.
Some people might say he shouldn’t have been born. His mother is confined to a wheelchair, abandoned by the man who got her pregnant. With no father to provide and a disabled mom, what kind of future could this child possibly have? Quite likely, he would grow up in poverty. And think of the burden he would be to his mother—not to mention society. Wouldn’t it be kinder just to abort him?
But his mother made a life-giving choice, and Sterling came into the world. The first time I saw him, he was in diapers. When his mom turned her back, he opened a drawer filled with kitchen knives and had the sharpest and longest one in his hand. I was ready to yank it out of his grasp, but my husband knelt down behind him. Gently putting his arms around the two-year-old, Alex said in a soft, sing-song tone, “Sterling, be a good boy and give me the knife.” Disaster was averted as Sterling relinquished his prize.
Today, Sterling is eight. His attraction for kitchen knives has matured into a full-fledged passion for swords. “Let’s play sword fight!” Sterling would say to Alex whenever he saw us coming out of our house. Over the years, I’ve watched the two of them play catch, build snowmen, hunt for frogs, and curl up in front of the TV watching movies about—you guessed it—sword-fighting swashbucklers.
Although his last name isn’t really “silver,” I like to call him that because of what he has meant to us over the years. We met him and his mom after leaving a gospel tract on their doorstep, inviting them to our church for Easter. We included our phone number, and she invited us over to get acquainted. Although attending church would be difficult because of her disability, she agreed to study the Book of John with us in her home. We also introduced her to our church family, who welcomed her into their lives.
While in first grade, Sterling told his mother he wanted to go to church, so she arranged for the local Salvation Army to take him to their children’s service. But Sterling had never gotten on a bus by himself, and when the church bus arrived, he was too scared to get on. When his mom told us what happened, we knew this was a God-sized opportunity. “We’ll take him to our church,” we said.
This became a weekly ritual that included a visit to McDonalds or the park afterwards. As we watched Sterling play with other children, we saw him develop godly character traits and a heart for the weak. One day, a group of siblings from another ethnic group wouldn’t let him play ball with them, and he gently chided them, “You should share.” Moments later, their younger brother, a toddler, lost his grasp on the ball, and it rolled away. The boy started crying, and Sterling retrieved the ball and gave it back to him. The children’s parents were visibly moved.
One of our most treasured memories from our days with Sterling was when he accompanied us on the Walk for Life for the local crisis pregnancy center. His mom informed us that he had signed up for event at church, but she felt uncomfortable with his participation because she’s pro-choice. When she tried to talk him out of it, Sterling said, “But Mom—it’s for babies.” She was at a loss
I assured her that the proceeds for the walk would be used to help unwed mothers and their little ones, so she agreed to let him go. Sterling has no idea of the political ramifications surrounding a walk for life; he only knows he loves babies.
And he knows the love of his Heavenly Father, even though his earthly father rejected him. In his school journal he has written volumes about the love of God, saying things like, “God is my friend.” An assignment for school asked Sterling to write about a boy who was happy. He wrote, “My name is Sterling, and I’m happy because Jesus loves me. The Bible tells me so!”
Since we moved to another part of town, we don’t see Sterling as much as we used to, and he doesn’t seem interested in going to church anymore. But we know that God brought him into our lives for a reason, if only for a brief season. We stay in touch with his mother, who now has a hand-operated van that a believer donated to her. Our prayer is that someday, she will drive into the church parking lot with Sterling next to her.
Meanwhile, Alex and I pray that the seeds we planted in their lives will blossom and bear much fruit for the Kingdom.
