When Evan was about 18, in the middle of an intense conversation, he said “Mama, you don’t get it, you want to be good.” My response was, “What??? You don’t????”

At this stage of my life, the desire to be good drove me so completely that it hadn’t occurred to me that he might not be similarly motivated.

That evening Evan explained that for him, sometimes the consequences of “being bad” were worth the thrill of breaking the rule. “Sometimes, I don’t want to be good. I wonder what it feels like to drive the car as fast as it will go, so I find a place where I can do that as safely as possible, and yeah, it feels good to be ‘bad’ sometimes.”

“Oh, now I get it,” I answered, “you want to break rules and do ‘bad’ stuff, but that doesn’t make you bad. You don’t wan’t to be bad. Way down underneath everything, you want to be good because you are good.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he told me. “I can never be good like you.”

Why is it that I can only remember part of the conversation?The almost palpable urge to understand and to be understood mingles with the awful disconnect between us hanging in my memory like a taunt. It accuses me of never really “getting” him and I’m filled with sorrow that he’s not here to hash it out anymore.

But, you know what? I’m glad he took the car somewhere he thought was safe and drove it as fast as he could. I’d never have done such a thing. But, I never wanted him to be good like me. I only wanted him to be true to the goodness he possessed, and to ask for help when he needed it.

I wanted him to be good like Evan.

We must consider how to rouse one another to love and good works.

Hebrews 10:24