A certain man went down to visit his parents, and upon knocking on their door he received no answer.  He sat down on the steps leading to the porch and pulled a pocket knife out of his jacket.  A car pulled into the driveway as he was opening the blade.  His mother approached after parking the car, an obvious pleased look on her face, which suddenly turned as she watched her son sharply bring the knife down, burying the blade in his leg.

Rushing forward, she cried, “Why did you do that? Let me help!  I’m calling an ambulance!”  To this, he merely looked back at her, with a smile, but with tears in his eyes, and assured her that he was ok.

“Mom, you should know that I am a little different. I’ve known ever since I was a kid that I was different.  You’ve always taught me that I shouldn’t stab myself, and I understand where you were coming from. But I was made different.  I am different.  The only way I can find joy and contentment in this life is through stabbing myself.  Don’t you love me?  Don’t you want me to be happy?”

“But son,” she replies, “I’m confused … can’t you see the blood?  I’m really worried that you are hurting yourself. This isn’t natural, this isn’t good.”

“Who are you to say what is good for me, and what is bad?  I’m telling you that this is how I feel joy; this is how I feel peace and love.  Would you deny me that?  I spent most of my life trying to find peace through living normally.  It just doesn’t work.  I’ve prayed for months and years to ask God to take away these desires, and it hasn’t worked.  There are others like me, why can’t you just be happy for me and love me?”

The mother was taken aback by this, she was honestly confused.  What was her son saying?

“Mom, if you can’t be happy for me.  If you can’t just love me for who I am, I’ll just leave.  You’ll never see me again.  Growing up not being allowed to stab myself was hell.  It was torture.  I’m finally being myself, and I just need you to hug me, and tell me that there is nothing wrong with me.  I need you to tell me that I’m perfect just as I am, and it is normal and perfect for me to stab myself.  If you cannot do this, I am leaving and you will never see me again.”

It dawned on the mother that this was high stakes in a way she had not appreciated a moment before.  So, she sat down on the steps and put her arm around his shoulders and said, “I love you.  It isn’t my job to judge.  If you tell me that the only way you can find joy is in stabbing yourself, I will respect and believe that.”

They talked for a few minutes, and a neighbor was walking past the home and saw a sight that caused him great distress.  He saw his neighbor and friend, Susie, sitting there was a young man bleeding from a wound in his leg, with a knife in his hand poised to stab himself in his other leg.

“Susie!” he said, just as the young man let his hand drop, again plunging the blade into his leg. Susie clapped her hands and kissed the young man on his cheek, with apparent tears of joy strolling down both of their cheeks.

“Dick! Come and see my beautiful, wonderful son!” cried the mother.

Dick rushed forward.  He used to be the bishop of the ward, and had just recognized the young man as previously being a member of the ward in his teens.  Grabbing for his cell phone, he prepared to dial 911 as the blood continued flowing from the wounds. 

Susie saw this, and immediately told him, in a stern voice, “put that away! There’s nothing wrong with my son.  He is who he is.  This is how he was made.  The only way for him to find joy is to do this.  Stop judging him!”

Dick started feeling as confused as the mother had moments earlier.  “Dick,” Susie continued, “listen to him.  Learn! If you do, you will come to love him as he is, just as I have. You will come to understand that God created him this way, that he can’t help it, he wouldn’t have chosen this for his life if he had any control over it, but he is who he is.”

So, Dick sat, and he listened, and he learned the things that the young man told him, and he accepted it as the truth, for who was he to judge what was true?  Dick took the young man by the hand, and meaningfully said, “who am I to judge?  I find that I need to reboot my computer, so to speak.  I need to erase all I thought I knew about people who stab themselves and just learn from them about what is good in their lives.  You are a great man!  You are going to do great things in your life! Don’t change a thing.”

And with that, Dick went on his way to start a podcast about the things he had learned. 

As the afternoon wore on, the young man was sitting on the porch, in his mother’s arms, bleeding from multiple self-inflicted wounds, and was beginning to feel the effects from the loss of blood. As he weakened, he said to himself, “perhaps my course is foolish.  Perhaps the joy I have felt in stabbing myself is fleeting, maybe I am doing damage that I am better off avoiding.”

Hearing this, his mother reassured him, “no sweetie, just rest here a bit.  There is nothing wrong with you.  You are just doing what comes natural, you are just being the man God always intended you to be.  Anyone who would deny you this joy and happiness in this life is hateful. Just stay here and be happy.  Don’t ever leave me again.”

But, this worried her, as she could see the conflict in his eyes. Quietly, she texted Dick to return to help him in this crisis. “I am afraid that my son has internalized a hatred for himself due to his natural inclination to cut himself.  I am afraid that he is going to leave and succumb to the pressures of society and not pursue his true joy anymore!  Come help quick!”

Dick was open to the urgency of the situation and rushed to Susie’s home, only to find her weakened son dragging himself down the sidewalk towards the street, leaving a bloody trail behind him.  He had thrown the knife away, and Susie was returning it to him, and was trying to get him to take it from her. 

“But this is who you are!” she said urgently, “take it! Be who your were made to be! Don’t leave me!”

Dick rushed forward, “I just love how authentic you were earlier.  Don’t let everything you’ve heard before dissuade you from being the great man I know you to be!”

Despite this encouragement, the young man continued inching his way to the street.  A passing motorist caught sight of drama unfolding and stopped his truck.  “What is going on here? How can I help?  Here, let me get you in my truck and I will take you to the hospital!”

“Back off!” cried the mother.  “My son is just being who he is!  There is nothing wrong!”

“But lady, look at all of this blood!”

Dick chimed in, “who are you to judge?  This young man is simply pursuing his truth, pursuing his joy!  Medical science is only in chapter 3 or 4 of a 20 chapter book when it comes the issue of people who were born to stab themselves.  There is so much more we need to learn about this.  Just listen, don’t judge.”

“I’ve heard enough, and I can see the blood.  Get out of my way, I’m taking this boy to the hospital!”  At this, the man stooped to pick up the bleeding young man, the victim of his own actions, and placed him in his truck he drove away leaving Dick and Susie standing there mourning the bigotry of the man in the truck.

“Thank you,” whispered the young man.  “Despite my confusion, despite my mother’s love, and my neighbor’s concern, you are the one who actually saved my life.”

IN WHAT WAYS DO WE STAB OURSELVES? WHAT SPIRITUAL DAMAGE IS DONE BY SIN? WHO IS OUR NEIGHBOR, THOSE THAT SUPPORT OUR SIN, OR THOSE WHO SEEK TO BIND THE WOUNDS WE INFLICT ON OURSELVES?