Okay, Preachers, and Pastor’s, Prophets, and Prophetesses, I am gonna need some advice on this one.
I can almost hear your collective advised counsel in my head right now.
“You’ve got to forgive, seventy times seventy”
“The battle is not yours, it‘s the Lord’s”
“Resist the devil and he’ll flee”
“Be ye transformed by the renewing of YOUR mind.”
“I went to do good, and evil was ever present.”
And, the Word of God is something that I believe in, and respect. It is.
But, sitting here with my cup of coffee, and going over the incidents of the last couple of days, my heart is filled with anguish; I am teed off!
Tell me, oh Sage’s of God’s Word, how to handle a situation where you’re doing all you can to do right, you’re trusting in the Word, you’re praying, and repenting daily, and someone gets to talking up under your clothes(for you young bucks, that’s when someone makes a derogatory remark about what’s going on in your private areas), calling you horrible, nasty, unheard of things, that would make even the most sexualized person stop, become shocked, and turn red?
What do you do then?
Ok, you sip on your coffee, while I put what I’m saying into context. And, we’ll see where your opinions fall then.
First, let’s start with the fact that whatever I do for someone else, is always done with my heart. I don’t have much. But, what I do have, I don’t mind giving. I feel like that’s what God expects of me; it’s what I’m supposed to do.
Next, imagine going to do something to help one of God’s folks, one of the saints of the church, and they have another family member present who ain’t stud’n having a God on their side.
You go on into their dwelling, after being invited in by the homeowner, and you begin to do what thus said the Lord: “Do unto others as you would HAVE THEM do unto you.” See, we all have to get old one day, we will all have some form of impairment, if we are blessed enough to live long enough to have to go through it.
So, in spite of the fact that you know evil may be present, you go to help because, after all, “NO WEAPON”, right?
Now, if you will, imagine hearing, out of nowhere I might add, a man saying “all you do is whore around! You wouldn’t be so tired and drained if you weren’t such a whore!”
Yes, clutch your pearls, and gasp! “Why, I neva!”
They whisper it, though, because God forbid somebody sees them for who they really are: Fake, phony, and full of evil forces.
And, as they are saying it, they are waving a crutch, or a stick in your face, posing a physical threat to you as well.
Now, what if it wasn’t the first time? What if, as a woman, some jerky devil approached you with this kind of madness? What if it was said, and done, to your wife, or daughter?
Can you truly say that your first response would definitely be a Holy response?
Because my response, even though I never said a curse word(progress), was not what I was raised to believe that “Holy” is. I went verbally off!
It all, I think, depends on who you are, and what you’ve been through.
Listen, the things that I’ve been through make me leery of, and in tune to, an abusive spirit. Like, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I’m close to a person who carries it. And, in the back of my mind, I stand ready to correct their bad behaviors, because I have this thing in me that says “if I don’t check them, they are going to hurt me!” And, I don’t want to go through any abusive situation ever again in my life.
So, there I stood, in full “The Color Purple” mode, screaming the words “Until you do right by your mother, everything you even THANK about gone crumble!”
Whaaaa?? “Pull back! Chill out!” I tried to reel the old me back in. She wasn’t listening. She was tired of the mess!
And, before I knew it, the screaming had nothing to do with me being called a whore, because this man does not know me. He’s never been to my house, seen me outside of his mother’s home. So I realized, I couldn’t possibly care any less about what this man thinks of me. But, I care very much about how he treats that old lady. So, he opened Pandora’s box, and I dug in it, and I dug in it, praying to get to “Hope”.
Hope was lost for that moment though. I had shown out, scared the bejeezus out of the woman I had come to help, and now I had to leave, taking all the blame.
Blaming myself, hurt in my heart from just trying to do right, worrying that God has forgiven me a thousand times over, and this time He may not: what I felt was overwhelming.
It still is!
This time, as opposed to any other, one variable changed.
God had someone call me, and after I explained to him the circumstance, he apologized for the guy, told me to pray, and let it go. This time, I wasn’t standing out on a weakened branch alone. Someone was there to take my hand, and pull me back, where I could stand, sure-footed. And, I am so grateful.
But, for me, in all my PTSD-ness, and my shell-shocked-don’t-make-any-sudden-moves-or-noises-around-me-ness, this could be a recurring issue. And, that just makes me ill to even think about.
So, tell me, please, what would you do with an issue like that? Because, while leaning on the Word of God, and praying without ceasing, is what is drilled into some of us from early childhood, we are left with the thought that our humanity, our feelings, our hearts, and our minds, don’t have any real place in the body of Christ.
And, I refuse to believe that. It all matters.
Until our next cup;