Archive for the The Journey Category

“A fool’s lips walk into a fight, and his mouth invites a beating.” – Proverbs 18:6

One of the great joys of parenting is experiencing the world through the eyes of one’s child. A piece of bread tossed into the serrated beak of snow-white duck, the sweet red, white and blue popsicle dripping from a sticky chin onto hot pavement, or the grin from eyes to ears while holding ones first fluffy pet – these are memories that resonate through time like the clink of glasses on New Year’s Eve.

In a similar fashion, however, are the pains of a child whose heart is breaking. One never really forgets the first horror of realizing a friend is not a friend but instead a vile enemy. There are hot tears, gut wrenching sobs, and the numbness of a heart that has gone cold but still continues to beat.

When I was in junior high I had a friend who enjoyed tormenting other children. In my innocence I joined with her in a cruel joke to a mutual friend. The joke was to ignore our friend for no reason and pretend she didn’t exist. My friend suggested the prank and I went along because I didn’t want to be contrary and jeopardize her affection for me. The prank lasted only a few hours before our friend was hurt and crying. The next thing I knew, everyone was angry with me because they had been told it was all my idea. They attacked me and chased me into the restroom where they berated and terrorized me while the girl whose idea it was stood back and smiled. It was a terrible lesson in treachery – both of my own guilt and of the wiles of a person who gets off on picking a fight. Unfortunately, I spent years under the thrall of this girl and ended up in many foolish situations before I learned a true friend doesn’t behave in such a manner.

It’s strange to be an adult and watch my child go through a similar scenario. To see the hot tears, the frustration, the misunderstanding of why someone loves you one day and hates you the next is…horrible. Last week they were hanging out at the arcade and this week parents with no scruples are calling the police. Try as I might to protect my children, there is no escape from people with evil intention.

“A fools mouth is his ruin, and his lips are a snare to his soul.” – Proverbs 18:7

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits.” – Proverbs 18:21

I feel strange searching for meaning in the ruins of a tattered relationship. What lessons can we learn? What hope can we find for the future? Do we guard our heart in order to protect ourselves from future hurt by barring the gates to new friends? I find myself turning over conversations in my head wondering how things might be different, how I could affect a different outcome. But the results are the same. The pain remains. It’s bad enough as an adult, but to see a child suffer is the worst kind of torment.

I find there really is no immunization for heartache. To love is to risk. But I also find that to forgive truly is sublime. It does no good to cling to bitterness or harbor ill will. Those who are contemptuous drive a stake through their own heart and that is something we cannot remove. But we can let go of the pain and move forward with a clean conscience. This is what I strive to teach my child; love is a beautiful thing. We should never regret giving the gift of love no matter how the relationship ends. We are not responsible for how people respond to us, only how we treat them. Does it hurt? Yes. Can we learn from it? Yes. Can we heal? With God’s help, yes.

I sit here with the pain of past relationships ricocheting through my mind like a bullet. Memories fade but don’t generally evaporate. So I open my bible and I pray. And I remember the words that comfort me when the darkness envelopes my heart and mind:

“A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” – Proverbs 18:24

I know I am both perpetrator and victim. I’ve done my share of wounding and asking forgiveness. Therefore, I too must forgive. And though we walk through the ruins of a relationship gone wrong, we will not stop loving. Jesus made a better way by His blood on the cross and that is the path I choose to take.

Freddy Mercury once sang, “Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places,
I guess we know the score. On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for?”

We are looking for love. And I believe we only find it through forgiveness and grace. We just have to keep fighting for it. No matter what.

“Has not man a hard service on earth, and are not his days like the days of a hired hand? Like a slave who longs for the shadow, and like a hired hand who looks for his wages, so I am allotted months of emptiness and nights of misery are apportioned to me.” – Job

Many of us are facing each day with a kind of hesitation; which way will the world tilt today? It’s like we are in a pinball machine and there is a maniacal clown at the controls. One day we are boinking along with happy little bells ringing when suddenly the whammy hits and we get swacked into the stratosphere only to experience sheer terror at the hands of gravity and a black hole beneath our feet. We don’t even have time to question who will catch us when we fall.

If you aren’t familiar with Job (from the Bible) you might like to get acquainted with his philosophies. He’s got a pretty realistic approach to life and some really crappy friends trying to set him straight after the pinball machine of life hurls him into the gutter.

(I mean, can you relate? Have you ever had something bad happen to you and all the squirrels jump out of their trees to tell you how you could have avoided such a catastrophe?)

But seriously, Job asks a lot of really good questions. Here is a sample:

“Why was I not hidden as a stillborn child, as infants who never see the light?”

“Why is light given to him who is in misery, and life to the bitter in soul, who long for death, but it comes not, and dig for it more than for hidden treasures?”

You might be asking why we should care – after all – the dude lived a couple thousand years ago. But I think his story bears relevance to today. Job was deeply afflicted physically, emotionally and spiritually. He was wealthy and lost his goods. He had beautiful children and they all died in a day. He was physically afflicted with sores from head to toe, but he didn’t die, even though he longed for it. He was a man who feared God, yet he asked some pretty tough questions of Him.

Like Job, my questions come in waves as the clouds obscure my vision of God. Why isn’t my life the way I expected? Why do the people I love hurt me? Why is there so much evil in the world? Why do good people have to die? Why do my friends let me down? Everyone asks these questions, but they approach them differently. Some become bitter and resentful. They speak fluent sarcasm and take solace in biting actions and words. Others just pretend to be happy. They fill their life with television programs and movies and other forms of entertainment. Some write self-help books. Meanwhile, I quietly wrestle with how to function in a pain-filled, sin-saturated world where even my friends are no real help.

I was jogging earlier this week when I tried to cross an intersection in a residential neighborhood. Two vehicles were stopped at the red light across from the high school. Since I had the right of way, Annabelle and I jogged in front of the first, a large 4X4 truck. But suddenly the owner of that truck ran the red light and nearly crushed us. I jumped back just in time and neither my dog or I was hurt, but the car behind the truck didn’t move. The driver wore an expression of horror and shock that I had not been pulverized like an errant opposum right before her eyes. For what seemed like an eternity, I hugged the sidewalk and we stared at each other. Life and death hung in the balance and this time I stood on the side of life. I praised God for His kindness to my family and to me. The truck never even slowed down.

But the next day when the lower vertebrae on my back went out, my outlook on life shifted. That pinched nerve made it nearly impossible to walk. It wasn’t just pain–it was the inability to move. I have developed a healthy sense of humor about my back – I like to say, “The pain is breathtaking!” while I imagine myself in a York Peppermint Patty commercial. But what I’m REALLY thinking is, that old maniacal clown is swacking me around again and I’m getting ready to drop into the black hole.

Need I even mention current events?

The debate between Job and his friends is epic. They call him a windbag, a heathen sinner who’s being punished, and worse.

“Know then that God exacts of you less than your guilt deserves.” – Zophar

And yet there’s no record of Job smacking them. Maybe his sores were particularly painful that day and he couldn’t move. Either way, God eventually speaks up and puts the friends in their place, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” And then God tells Job who He is.

To me, this is the magnificent crescendo of the symphony that is the story of Job.

God speaks to man…

“Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place that it might take hold of the skirts of the earth and the wicked be shaken out of it?” – God

…and man responds by falling on his face with humility and terror. Poor Job. All he can do is just shake his head and try not to wet himself. Or maybe he did. The text doesn’t say. (I wouldn’t write that in either if it happened to me). I personally always wonder why God doesn’t allow Job’s atoms to dissolve why he’s still conscious and then put him back together again – you know, just as an example of His power. But really, why do we think God is safe? And why do we think we know better how to run this world? And just who the heck do we think we are anyway? (I might be channeling a little Voddie Baucham here…)

Because God doesn’t owe me any explanations. I am flesh and He is divine. The problem is, we forget this sometimes. With all the “Jesus loves me” mooshy stuff, we forget this deity is the one who created the rhinoceros, the alligator, the whale and the sun (which would rightly fry us to a crisp if we were on the Enterprise and got sucked into its orbit without shields). And since the moon hasn’t turned to blood (today) and the sun is still in the sky (and not raining burning cinders onto our faces) I would venture to guess He is still running the universe just fine (thank you very much!). And since we know the bible is true, we can trust that if we repent of our sin by the blood of Jesus, He will forgive us our sin and not incinerate us in a moment of wrath because Jesus atoned for it. The bible says He is waiting patiently, not wanting anyone to perish but wanting everyone to come to repentance.

I have a feeling things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. If you think gas prices are high now, don’t blink. And if you think we’ve heard the worst on Ukraine, don’t hold your breath. And if your still afraid of Covid, take heart; God is in control.

So, pray like there is no tomorrow. Rejoice in hope. Be patience in affliction. And trust that God really does have the whole world in His hands. You are not in a pinball machine and there is no maniacal clown at the helm. And you can take that to the bank (especially when your paper money becomes worthless)!

I love carefree days. I like watching clouds undulate across the sky like white, wooly fluff. I like listening to the birds sing and the breeze blow through the trees. But this is not one of those days. Today, the foul mood of badness has fallen on my head like an anvil, and I feel like kicking the dog. I feel like driving fast with loud music blaring and cutting people off in traffic. Because as we all know, a bad mood is best when shared with unsuspecting people.

A friend of mine said recently I am prone to allowing my emotions to get the better of me. She meant to admonish me for caving into my feelings because I was having an epic sulk. After I grabbed said friend by the throat and body slammed her into a cement wall (or was that just my imagination?) I grabbed a bag of chocolate and showed her! Take that Miss Judgmental Judy. I’ll show you how much I don’t care about your self-righteous platitudes. And while I’m at it, my pants are getting pissy too so don’t mess with me.

The thing is, bad moods don’t generally just happen. There is usually a precipitating factor that causes pain. Depending on the situation and our temperament, we may just have a good cry and move on. Other times, we need to kill people (or at the very least poke them with sharp sticks until they squeal).

I’m a slow-burn type of girl. I’m sort of like a female version of Popeye. I can be really calm and collected and self-controlled for a while, but then, “I’ve had all I can stand, and I can’t stand no more!” Hand me the spinach. Somebody is going to suffer. That is when I get reckless.

I won’t bore the dear reader with my sob story of how I got to this point. (Hint: I live with a 13-year-old, strong-willed bi-polar boy) What I will say is that lately, I’ve been seeing red–blood red. And the truth is, it’s just plain fun to provoke people when I feel that way. In that regard, social media is like crack cocaine; there are plenty of other pissed off and provoked people who fuel my addiction. And sometimes, the temptation to indulge in a little verbal jousting is simply irresistible.

“But Margaret, are you saying that when you get mad you enjoy being a jerk?”

“Why yes, Dear Reader. Yes, I do. Would you like some of this action?”

But the really bad thing about reckless behavior is that it breeds like a bunny. Not that I’m worried about losing friends when I’m in that type of mood, but I recognize there can be long-term consequences. Which is why I have been cultivating habits for healthier ways to address my bad moods.

There is something very cathartic about running when I am mad. I can turn on the music (usually Switchfoot) and beat up the cement with my Mizuno running shoes. Nobody gets hurt and I expend pent up energy. There is also something very appealing about burning things. For a while I was really angry with some stumps in my yard that refused to stop growing. I decided to pile leaves on them and burn them…at least until one of my (nosey, obnoxious) neighbors called the fire department–who promptly informed me burning leaves in my yard is not exactly legal. And since it is also illegal to konk firemen over the head with my rake, I let them use my garden hose to extinguish my fire. But I must admit, I was very “put out”.

This weekend, I was mad enough about life stuff that I picked up sweet gumballs and burned them in my firepit. This is what I do when I get so mad I could spit. Take that you darn tree of horrible, god-awful, thorny spheres of ankle-breaking evil. I will burn your progeny in my fire pit. Roast! And since there are no instances of sweet gum trees attacking feisty middle-aged mothers of testy teens, I figured I was probably pretty safe.

But seriously, when the urge comes upon us to enact vengeance, we really must try to resist the urge to puncture innocent people. For that matter, we probably shouldn’t poke guilty people either. There are laws against assault and battery that could land us in a real jail cell or at the very least, poked back and still pissed. And since our culture is currently in a heightened state of “reckless”, we really should do our best to end the cycle.

So, dear reader, take my advice: don’t kick your dog, don’t throw eggs at your neighbor’s house, and don’t slap anyone silly (though you may text someone that if they don’t shut up you will slap them silly). But rather, pray to Almighty God to help you find an alternative outlet–be it stomping moles that are destroying your yard, trapping greedy squirrels and poking them through the cage with your fingers, or farting on your bratty teenage boy (beans, the magical fruit!). There really is no limit to the creativity a bad mood can inspire. Shoot, I did all three of those things today and I feel much better already.

I welcome safe and effective suggestions in the comments.