WitnessRe-thinking My Savior Complex
My hardest lesson as a social worker? God wants me to be close to the brokenhearted as much as he wants me to save them.
Twenty-four years old, conscious of my lack of preparedness and certain I would choke on my words, I stood on a dusty country road with a heroin addict whom I had come to know and root for. I was advising him to surrender his parental rights before I asked the judge to terminate them.
Caseworker jargon tumbled nervously out of my mouth, but my stilted words did not matter—he knew what I was saying. We had prepared for it. He and I had always called this scenario What Could Go Wrong.
By the time ...
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Re-thinking My Savior Complex