Maybe I’m being harsh. You know, all that love your enemies and deny yourself stuff. Maybe I should be okay with someone yelling at me as they speed by or calling me stupid when I keep pulling even though the sign says, “Push.”
Perhaps it’s grown-up to ignore the unfriending and the meanness.
If it is, then I’m only halfway there. I ignore it on the outside, but on the inside, I mull and stew and don’t forget.
A few weeks ago, I made somebody angry. They appeared behind me flashing their headlights and waving their arms. I immediately assumed someone in their car needed medical assistance or something. When I pulled over to let them by, the person in the passenger seat yelled at me and held up a finger.
I spent the next ten miles trying to figure out what in the world I did to make them so mad. Eventually, I got around to praying for those mean people which went from a nice homely prayer to something like King David on one of his rants. Not sure what God thinks of that, but at least I was honest.
And there’s my point of contention. Being honest when I’m hurt.
Some people don’t have this problem (like the crazy lady in the speedy car). But I do. I have some very good excuses like:
“I don’t want to be a poor witness.”
“It’s really not that big a deal.”
“They probably have a good reason for being mean.”
Don’t get me wrong. I want to be honest, but I also want to be loving and kind. It’s just that sometimes those two things don’t go together inside of me.
What am I supposed to do with that? Is this the deny yourself part? Something seems off about that too.
It seems like the real goal is for me to open my arms to your crazy and care for you and love you and be there for you. And not to do that from sheer willpower and a dishonest heart that’s grumbling all the way. But rather to care out of a real love for you that wants your best and doesn’t resent you asking for more.
If I’m not there yet, I shouldn’t fake it. I should pray. I don’t get off the hook just because I’m being honest. If I’m not loving my neighbor, that’s a God problem, and he’s going to need to fix me.
And you know what the real zinger is here? Without a little bit of the other person’s crazy rubbing against me, I might never get to facing the facts. It’s a blessing really.
So, thank you, crazy lady yelling at me as you drive by. It wasn’t okay with me that you yelled at me, but I think I’m learning something from it. And PS, I prayed that you would get pulled over by a cop. Because that might help you.