So, why do I care?

Camilla, you can block me. You can do whatever, but I think you are missing the whole thing of what I am saying here. I’m trying to say to you that you can do something with your life, but you need to WANT to, and you need to understand that love doesn’t just let people destroy themselves. Your response to me in this tells me a whole lot more. And if we didn’t care about you and your family, do you think we would help you when you are in need or take you and Kenny to Sunday School when it is so many extra miles for us on a Sunday You are missing the whole point here, girlie. As far as sharing not being what you said, would you say that if I shared something like that? Come on, Camilla. You are smarter than that!

But she didn’t get a single line of the part that is italicized. It wouldn’t go through. She had already blocked me.

This is the message that came up:
You cannot reply to this conversation. Either the recipient’s account was disabled or its privacy settings don’t allow replies.

I think about the different ways our lives have been invested in this child and I wonder why I even care. From the very beginning, while her brother showed specific interest, she has steadfastly been difficult. She has tried to turn the hearts of our congregation against one of the other girls that has been coming to Sunday school, and has spread lies about another one. She has been rude and inconsiderate and so often vulgar and greedy and crude. She is a “taker” in every sense of the word.

So, why do I care?

Because, before God, I believe that it all is because of having to live so marginally while being given no hope, no reason to live better or example of the same. And I feel sorry that she took things the wrong way, here, too. Maybe she really doesn’t care, but I think she does.