Your Life in a Plastic Bag

Every so often a story jumps out of the news and seems to grab you by the heart. I know on many levels we have become numbed by the sheer volume of stories of suffering and violence that dominate the headlines, but I heard this one on a talk show when driving to an appointment.

It featured people from the foster care system and community. What struck me was how articulate and dignified they were as they spoke of their experiences.

Very often, through a whole combination of issues and circumstances, young people had spent much of their lives in this system. They had maybe spent some time in a children’s home and then been placed with foster carers. For some, this had been a wonderful experience where they received much love and support after a difficult start but, sometimes, when an unreliable parent returned to their lives and gained custody again, they were forced into a crazy cycle of foster carers. Sometimes, young people had lost cost of how many times they had been moved in their young lives and, on each occasion, all their worldly possessions had been packed into a black bag or bags before the next move.

Sometimes these moves had been organised when they were at school  or out for the day, and a social worker had come into their room or a foster carer and chucked all their belongings, clothes, toys, books and photos into these bags. It was as if society was saying all you have is rubbish, it’s like a picture of how your life is to society at the present time.

One local council had arranged with an ethical luggage making companies to have special rucksacks with young people’s names made for these moves.

It was a very simple idea, but it was transformative. These bags offered protection to those special photos and toys which often got broken in the black bin bags. Often they were the only connection with a relationship that meant a huge amount, and people tended to handle these black bags with casual disregard.

They threw them into vans or taxis, and the few precious possessions a young person had could get damaged, lost or broken. These new holdalls reminded people that the young people they were dealing with had a name, their possessions, though lacking monetary value, might have great personal significance and deserved to be treated with respect.

It was heartbreaking to hear all these young people had been through. Many of them struggled with confidence, building relationships and finding their feet in society. I thought of how little it can take to give people a sense of worth or value, a simple rucksack, a kind word, treating your stuff with respect.

As the parent of two teenage children who have plenty of possessions, it made me so sad to hear of how few things some children have and how the circumstances of life can leave them at such a disadvantage.

What can the church do to reassure all who cross our doors that they are of infinite value and worth in God’s sight?

Please join us over the events of Holy Week and Easter when we are reminded afresh of just how valuable each of us are in His sight. We are reminded that each of us were so important to Him that He gave His life for us.

Looking forward to speaking again soon.

Much love to everyone,

Jono.

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