I was thinking this morning, and I guess a little over the last couple of days, about healing. There is so much that goes into healing that just isn't expressed by saying, "He made the blind to see, the lame to walk, and the dead to live again."
Skin, for example...Normal skin takes a few days to heal. (7-10 and sometimes longer if you want the exact numbers.) First, there is a cut. A blood clot forms in the cut because it is exposed to collagen fibers in the surrounding tissues. As various cellular hormones, etc. are expressed, that clot becomes granulation tissue. Granulation tissue is fairly nerve/pain free, but it is very vascular. Believe it or not, this makes it great at fighting off infection. It then becomes the lattice on which the basal layer of skin cells can creep across until the two edges meet. Once that occurs, it can slowly fill in the gap, going from that sensitive "baby" skin to the kind that was there before the wound occurred. A small scar is most always left behind, especially if the basal layer of skin was separated.
As for vision...There are SO many things and differences and pathways involving the eyes. First of all, depending on what side of your eye an object is visible, it may stay visible to the ipsilateral (same) side of the brain or cross over to the contralateral (opposite) side of the brain from where you "see" it. There are areas of the brain which store visual images which only took you nanoseconds to visualize, then an immediate assessment of depth, distance, and travel velocity are calculated so you can miss the fist coming at your face, or something like it. There are areas that detect movement in the stillest of environments (FYI: these areas are huge in prey animals, because they are always looking for their lurking enemy.) The retina has areas that detect the amount of light and the color of the light wave. (If matter is matter and doesn't change, and light is both a wave and particle, and you see something as blue that I see as aquamarine, then what color is it really? It's a question I've asked since high school physics...yes, I guess I truly am a geek.) The retina then transfers all that information via two major pathways, one that crosses, and one that doesn't, and your brain puts the whole image together. Did I mention that the lens flips the image upside down and then somehow between your retina and your brain it gets flipped back right-side up? Also, there are small muscles in charge of your lens attachments in the eye. They contract (involuntarily!) to focus both far and near. All of this occurs without your even thinking about it. How we translate what we are seeing into what is real takes awhile to develop. People say that babies best see primary colors and are near sighted as they are newborns, and they slowly develop the ability to de-fuzz who that is standing over them as they get older. Along with the seeing comes the perception associated with that image. It's all very intricate.
People who've injured limbs or had prolonged brain injury must undergo lengthy physical therapy in order to build up strength, tone, balance, and fine motor control all over again. (I actually just deleted a long section from this very spot about the spinal cord, injuries, and the daschund. You can thank me later.) Ultimately, what I mean to point out is that muscle atrophy, either by disuse or because of lack of nervous stimulation, is very hard to combat. There are muscle fibers which are best suited to sprinting (aka. endurance fibers.) There are some dedicated to strength (aka. bulky fibers.) There are whole muscle groups devoted to keeping your balance while standing up straight on level ground. These fibers, their nervous pathways, the perception of what is being sensed and is really happening, and the coordination of movement is something that we slowly develop as we learn to flip over, rock back and forth on our hands and knees, crawl, walk, run, and then skip or dance. It takes YEARS for us to develop these skills and strengths. For example, there are no 2 year old prodigy prima dona's in the Moscow Ballet.
Finally...I can't speak to human medicine in this area, but I was taught in school that if you really want to resuscitate an animal via CPCR (they've changed it to cardiopulmonary cerebral resuscitation, because it is no use to bring back the heart and lungs if the brain is dead), then you must open the chest and do manual cardiac massage within 60 seconds of arrest. We can pump them full of drugs, shock them with a few hundred volts, and we can get a pulse back. But if the brain is without oxygen for mere minutes, irreversible damage occurs. Nervous cells don't like to regenerate. They die and deteriorate very quickly. And as we all know, the brain is the control panel for every function in your body. There are even reflexes set in place that will try to protect your brain in the event of trauma, etc. (I'm talking about shifts in your blood pressure, even in the face of stress, that attempt to keep your brain from swelling more than has already occurred.)
I give you this long-winded science lesson to say that when God heals a leper and makes them whole, or when the paralytic stands up, picks up his pallet, and walks out, or when the blind man washes the mud from his eyes and sees, just what a miracle has truly occurred. God is sovereign even over the smallest cells in our bodies. He orchestrates and puts into being pathways and perceptions that our brain usually takes years to put into habit. It just amazes me that our Creator is in control of EVERY detail. Nothing is left out. When He heals, He heals COMPLETELY and FULLY. I know that right now, I'm speaking mostly of His ability to heal us physically, but the spiritually implications are just as real. He CAN make the blind man to see, the lame man to walk, and the dead to rise again. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, MARVELOUS are Thy works, and that my souls knows well. Praise God for his infinite wisdom, design, and control.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Cancer...
How much do I hate that word. I hate everything about it. It is insidious. It is consuming. It brings suffering of all kinds. It brings doubt and questions. It brings worry and fear. It makes every minute felt. It forces us to face our humanity and frailty. It drives us into the very lap of God, to Whom we look for answers, comfort, strength, and endurance.
Can I hate cancer and love God?...Can I hate the trial and not the fellowship it brings?...Can I be so honest with God that I actually verbalize all my desires before Him, even if they may not coincide with His will?...
This last has been just one of the struggles for me. My head says that I am to ask God for His will to be done. My head says it's ok to ask God to heal my Mom. My head says to keep the requests under control and not to let my heart scream out it's own requests. But my heart cannot be silent. I confess that what I want may not be God's will. It shocks me to learn that I actually struggle with being that honest with God. I'm almost ashamed to tell God exactly what I want, because I'm afraid that I'm out of His will. And yet, He wants us to make our requests known to Him. I mean, He knows our hearts, and He knows what we need before we even ask. But He does want us to ask, doesn't He?
I feel like that small child that is having to obediently clean his room, but that whimpers and cries the entire time. I want to throw myself onto the floor and throw the biggest tantrum ever, and then just lay there until this all goes away. But I cannot. I must choose to make precious memories from each day and try to keep them stored so that I will never forget the sound of her voice, or the color of her eyes, or the way that she comforts me when I'm losing it.
Oh God...thank You for this time. I don't like it. I'm uncomfortable. I'm scared. But I know that there is a purpose in this pain. You are sovereign, Lord. I know You are fully aware and fully in control of everything, no matter how minor, that is going on. Please continue to sustain. Give us grace. If it would be Your will, Father, heal her. Restore her. I know you absolutely can. You gave muscles that were mere fibers the immediate ability and strength to not only move the joints, but to allow the finely-tuned control needed to skip and not fall down. Muscle fibers that had never really existed in the first place. We spend years as toddlers and children developing those skills of balance and muscle tone. You can put them there instantly. I know You can heal her. But Lord, I accept Your plan. Just keep helping me through it. Give Mom all she needs. Please spare her from pain. Please, Lord. Please.
Can I hate cancer and love God?...Can I hate the trial and not the fellowship it brings?...Can I be so honest with God that I actually verbalize all my desires before Him, even if they may not coincide with His will?...
This last has been just one of the struggles for me. My head says that I am to ask God for His will to be done. My head says it's ok to ask God to heal my Mom. My head says to keep the requests under control and not to let my heart scream out it's own requests. But my heart cannot be silent. I confess that what I want may not be God's will. It shocks me to learn that I actually struggle with being that honest with God. I'm almost ashamed to tell God exactly what I want, because I'm afraid that I'm out of His will. And yet, He wants us to make our requests known to Him. I mean, He knows our hearts, and He knows what we need before we even ask. But He does want us to ask, doesn't He?
I feel like that small child that is having to obediently clean his room, but that whimpers and cries the entire time. I want to throw myself onto the floor and throw the biggest tantrum ever, and then just lay there until this all goes away. But I cannot. I must choose to make precious memories from each day and try to keep them stored so that I will never forget the sound of her voice, or the color of her eyes, or the way that she comforts me when I'm losing it.
Oh God...thank You for this time. I don't like it. I'm uncomfortable. I'm scared. But I know that there is a purpose in this pain. You are sovereign, Lord. I know You are fully aware and fully in control of everything, no matter how minor, that is going on. Please continue to sustain. Give us grace. If it would be Your will, Father, heal her. Restore her. I know you absolutely can. You gave muscles that were mere fibers the immediate ability and strength to not only move the joints, but to allow the finely-tuned control needed to skip and not fall down. Muscle fibers that had never really existed in the first place. We spend years as toddlers and children developing those skills of balance and muscle tone. You can put them there instantly. I know You can heal her. But Lord, I accept Your plan. Just keep helping me through it. Give Mom all she needs. Please spare her from pain. Please, Lord. Please.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Saturday Mornings...
Today I was reminded about some of my favorite Saturday morning traditions and memories from many years ago. Why was I reminded about them today, as today is Sunday? Well...I spent the night at a friend's house last night, and due to the icy roads, church was cancelled, so we had bacon, eggs, and biscuits this morning for breakfast. As we were cooking and then eating, I was reminded of making Saturday morning breakfasts every time I'd spend the night with one of my friends. She and I would get up on Sat., make pancakes, bacon, toast, eggs: the works, and then everyone would sit down and have breakfast. Recently, another friend told me that their Sat. morning tradition was for her husband to get up and make breakfast for the kids.
I can remember special things, as a child, I either ate or learned to make on our Sat. mornings. We had blueberry pancakes. And we always begged Mom to make pancake teddy bears. (They'd have either blueberry or raisin eyes.) I learned that the best way to make scrambled eggs is to add a little milk and use the skillet after cooking the bacon. Or we could have omelets. Mom is really good at flipping them perfectly. Occasionally we'd have fresh squeezed orange juice, ('cause there was some big craze about fresh juice back then. Pity it just takes alot of work for a tiny cup of juice.) And on your biscuits, there is nothing like "Kentucky Jam" as my grandad called it. You mix a little bit of butter with sorghum (aka "sorgrum" as we kids called it) or molasses, and it's delicious !! We really didn't use too much jelly. OH! And on special occasions (Christmas morning or birthdays) we had country ham. I still like to put a slice of country ham in my biscuit to make a little sandwich.
I LOVE Sat. morning breakfasts!! I had completely forgotten all about them. I have to work most every Sat. now, and my family doesn't really do the whole family-get-up-and-cook thing. Cereal or a smoothie is usually what I'm having for breakfast these days. And I hate that I'm not even really sure how to make sausage and gravy (another southern breakfast tradition.) Cooking is something that I enjoy but that I don't really do if I'm cooking for just me. You know? Anyway...I'm hoping to change all that in the near future. I'm told that planning a menu and actually cooking those foods is a great way to save money and have homecooked food. SO...that's what I'm going to start doing. (I hope.) I want to be able to cook effortlessly. And that isn't how I cook now. I've told myself in the past that I'd wait until I'm married, or until I have a bigger kitchen, or until I have that KitchenAid mixer I want, or until "put condition here" to learn. All of those are just easy excuses to justify living off of ramen noodles and sandwiches. So...I'm saying hello to my pots and pans. I'm taking that microwave rice maker back to Wal-Mart. (Really, that was just a lazy purchase. I know how to make rice; I'm just impatient.) I'm going to crack open one of the 10 cookbooks that I have, and I'm going to start cooking. I'll let y'all know how it goes.
And maybe, someday, I'll have more fun Sat. morning breakfasts with my family. If you haven't had one in awhile, I hope you'll take the time to do it. The memories are priceless.
I can remember special things, as a child, I either ate or learned to make on our Sat. mornings. We had blueberry pancakes. And we always begged Mom to make pancake teddy bears. (They'd have either blueberry or raisin eyes.) I learned that the best way to make scrambled eggs is to add a little milk and use the skillet after cooking the bacon. Or we could have omelets. Mom is really good at flipping them perfectly. Occasionally we'd have fresh squeezed orange juice, ('cause there was some big craze about fresh juice back then. Pity it just takes alot of work for a tiny cup of juice.) And on your biscuits, there is nothing like "Kentucky Jam" as my grandad called it. You mix a little bit of butter with sorghum (aka "sorgrum" as we kids called it) or molasses, and it's delicious !! We really didn't use too much jelly. OH! And on special occasions (Christmas morning or birthdays) we had country ham. I still like to put a slice of country ham in my biscuit to make a little sandwich.
I LOVE Sat. morning breakfasts!! I had completely forgotten all about them. I have to work most every Sat. now, and my family doesn't really do the whole family-get-up-and-cook thing. Cereal or a smoothie is usually what I'm having for breakfast these days. And I hate that I'm not even really sure how to make sausage and gravy (another southern breakfast tradition.) Cooking is something that I enjoy but that I don't really do if I'm cooking for just me. You know? Anyway...I'm hoping to change all that in the near future. I'm told that planning a menu and actually cooking those foods is a great way to save money and have homecooked food. SO...that's what I'm going to start doing. (I hope.) I want to be able to cook effortlessly. And that isn't how I cook now. I've told myself in the past that I'd wait until I'm married, or until I have a bigger kitchen, or until I have that KitchenAid mixer I want, or until "put condition here" to learn. All of those are just easy excuses to justify living off of ramen noodles and sandwiches. So...I'm saying hello to my pots and pans. I'm taking that microwave rice maker back to Wal-Mart. (Really, that was just a lazy purchase. I know how to make rice; I'm just impatient.) I'm going to crack open one of the 10 cookbooks that I have, and I'm going to start cooking. I'll let y'all know how it goes.
And maybe, someday, I'll have more fun Sat. morning breakfasts with my family. If you haven't had one in awhile, I hope you'll take the time to do it. The memories are priceless.
Scripture Memorization
I read this on Jordan Thomas's blog back in December, and it has really helped me out. Recently, I felt burdened to memorize more, and I've started attempting James. SO...I hope this helps all those who struggle to memorize God's Word. It's amazing to me how much it helps to say the verse number prior to each verse. My brain really functions much better to recall the verse accurately when I learn it that way. The site is by First Baptist Church in Durham, NC. Click on the link, then click "writings," then "An Approach to the Extended Memorization of Scripture."
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Lessons from a shepherd...
Currently, we are going over Psalm 23 in church. I was told some interesting things about that psalm in relation to actual shepherding, and I have seen with my own eyes some other characteristics of sheep that explain how we as people are described as such in the Bible. I may add more as Bro. Gary goes along, but here is what I've learned thus far:
1 "The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want."
Sheep are totally dependant upon the shepherd. Sheep are not very bright creatures. Without a leader, they scatter. I watched a professor in school one time training his dog. There were four sheep. The dog cut the leader from the group, and the other three were clueless. They all ran together, but each in different directions. (It was like one of those vector equations in geometry. The one in the middle ran straight, and the ones on each side ran towards the other side.) Sheep are helpless. So are we. And because the LORD is our shepherd, we shall not want for anything. He has promised to provide all we need for life and godliness. If He clothes the lilies and feeds the birds, how much more will He provide for us? Jehovah Jireh: God Who Provides. The LORD is my shepherd. I shall not want.
2 "He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters."
Sheep do not drink from fast-running water. They cannot rest when there is stress. The shepherd leads them to peace and nourishment. It is the same for us. He is our Sabbath rest. Without Him, there is no peace.
3 "He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."
When a sheep was prone to wander, the shepherd would break it's leg and set it straight again. Then, during the healing process, the sheep would, by necessity, stay close to the shepherd. For it's own protection, some pain must be encountered, but the end result was a closer walk with the shepherd.
4 "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and staff, they comfort me."
The rod and staff were used both for defense and discipline. Who would have thought that the discipline of the Lord would be a comfort, but He says that he disciplines those whom He loves. What a comfort to know that we can trust Him and be grateful for His protection and His discipline.
5 "Thou dost prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; Thou has anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows."
The shepherd would go into the fields ahead of the sheep and plug any holes where predators (snakes, etc) may be dwelling. A table prepared in the presence of enemies. He would also put oil on their heads to keep insects away. How much does the shepherd care for his sheep?! Of course the cup overflows.
6 "Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."
Amen.
1 "The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want."
Sheep are totally dependant upon the shepherd. Sheep are not very bright creatures. Without a leader, they scatter. I watched a professor in school one time training his dog. There were four sheep. The dog cut the leader from the group, and the other three were clueless. They all ran together, but each in different directions. (It was like one of those vector equations in geometry. The one in the middle ran straight, and the ones on each side ran towards the other side.) Sheep are helpless. So are we. And because the LORD is our shepherd, we shall not want for anything. He has promised to provide all we need for life and godliness. If He clothes the lilies and feeds the birds, how much more will He provide for us? Jehovah Jireh: God Who Provides. The LORD is my shepherd. I shall not want.
2 "He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters."
Sheep do not drink from fast-running water. They cannot rest when there is stress. The shepherd leads them to peace and nourishment. It is the same for us. He is our Sabbath rest. Without Him, there is no peace.
3 "He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."
When a sheep was prone to wander, the shepherd would break it's leg and set it straight again. Then, during the healing process, the sheep would, by necessity, stay close to the shepherd. For it's own protection, some pain must be encountered, but the end result was a closer walk with the shepherd.
4 "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and staff, they comfort me."
The rod and staff were used both for defense and discipline. Who would have thought that the discipline of the Lord would be a comfort, but He says that he disciplines those whom He loves. What a comfort to know that we can trust Him and be grateful for His protection and His discipline.
5 "Thou dost prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; Thou has anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows."
The shepherd would go into the fields ahead of the sheep and plug any holes where predators (snakes, etc) may be dwelling. A table prepared in the presence of enemies. He would also put oil on their heads to keep insects away. How much does the shepherd care for his sheep?! Of course the cup overflows.
6 "Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."
Amen.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
The Next Thing...
Well...I have determined my next thing. I'm moving. I've been praying about it for several months (if not for the past 2 years), and things have just finally fallen into place. You see...I think God finally hit me over the head with a tack hammer. Recently, I had been telling some of my friends that no matter how crazy your authority is, you should trust that God will protect you if you obey...ie. if you're under His authority, then you're under His protection. Well...one night, Mom and I were having a discussion, when I realized that I wasn't under my authority. She was saying "it's time," and I was saying, "oh, you don't know." Umm...Hello?!? Anyway...so...all these doors started to open, and even though I don't know what I'm doing, or why, I know that I should take each step as it comes.
It's a strange feeling. People have asked, "are you excited?" Well...I'm not sure. Others have asked why on earth I'm moving out. All I can say is that it's the next step and that it's time. Other than that, I don't know. That's what's strange. I'm not one that adapts to change easily, and I very seldom step out without having the next 10 years mapped out, etc. But I'm learning. And I am excited to know that I'm moving as God directs. And that's enough for me.
It's a strange feeling. People have asked, "are you excited?" Well...I'm not sure. Others have asked why on earth I'm moving out. All I can say is that it's the next step and that it's time. Other than that, I don't know. That's what's strange. I'm not one that adapts to change easily, and I very seldom step out without having the next 10 years mapped out, etc. But I'm learning. And I am excited to know that I'm moving as God directs. And that's enough for me.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Random Yardman Strikes Again....
Ok....I am struggling a little...well, a lot, with all things relating to Random Yardman. Let me clue some of you in to the past few days.
First of all, this new guy is really Random Yardman number 2 (RY2). The other one hasn't been back since last spring. Maybe they rotate neighborhoods. Anyway...he showed up at 3pm two days before Christmas and asked for $100 to rake our yard. A. That is OUTRAGEOUS for our yard. We don't live on 5 acres. Most of the leaves have already been taken care of, and he expected us to provide the bags. B. Do you really plan on starting a yard at 3pm? C. That is OUTRAGEOUS. So...after he gives Mom some long sap story...she agrees to let him work. THEN, after working 2 hours, and ringing the doorbell no less than 3 times in the 2 hours, he asks for an advance. Again with the sap story and a promise to return to finish. Mom said she told him that she trusted the Lord, because when He sent someone to help her, He always made sure they finished. His reply, "That's right; that's right. The Lord sent me."
So...on Christmas Eve, he returned...this time, he was brought by a policeman. To make a long story short, the policeman told him that if he didn't finish our yard in a time he (the policeman) thought was appropriate, that he would be coming after RY2. Mom said, "Well...I guess the Lord wanted to make sure that he came back to finish the job."
He came back today. He got very upset when he found out that Mom was not there to get him some garbage bags and to pay him. He began to give me the sap story and demanded I call her. So...I called her, and we determined that I would get the bags and his money, and since I had to leave shortly, Will would look over the work when RY2 was finished and pay him, if it was complete. When I left, there were open bags of leaves everywhere. When I arrived home...there were open bags of leaves everywhere. When I called my brother to ask what happened, he told me that RY2 was finished. I asked about the open bags, and Will said that RY2 promised that he'd close them and put them on the side of the road. So he paid him and left. So...I closed the bags and put them on the side of the road.
I have spent much of today ranting and raving about being conned and taken and how irate it makes me. Maybe it's a result of getting robbed at knifepoint in my car for accidentally cutting someone off. Maybe it's a result of being harassed in Subway by someone asking for money and then making comments about cutting someone up for crossing his path. Maybe it's a result of working over 40 hours a week, cleaning house, etc. in my spare time, and being taught that everything you do should be as if doing it for the Lord.
And it is this last statement that causes me trouble. It makes me really mad to feel taken advantage of. I've really considered putting up a sign at both doors: "NO SOLICITING!!! This means for yardwork, Girl Scout cookies, hand-outs, etc." However...when I think that what that really says is, "If you're looking for grace, you'll not find it here," that upsets me. I mean, Mom, and even my brother, has this soft place for people out to do a very little work for an unreasonable amount of money. I think our house is well known. I'm sure they say to each other, "Try to avoid going if the little white car is there. Look for the silver one." Mom and I have gone round and round over this kind of thing. I find it very easy to say "no." She says yes, tries to hide it from me, and then inevitably I find out, and we have a discussion about being suckered. I hate it.
And I really hate thinking that I have no mercy. Where is my compassion? And then I wonder...well, does having compassion mean being blind to being suckered? I mean, shouldn't we be able to expect to give what is due when it is due, and not until then? That guy had no intention of returning to our yard. At least, not until he needed the rest of the money. Had that policeman not told him that he would be seeking him out, RY2 would not have come back. And now...since I would rather have a yard free of open leaf-bags, when that policeman drives by, he will think that the job was done and go on about his way.
I haven't thought about myself as a heartless tight-wad. I like to think that I'm a generous, big-hearted, softy. HA !!!! One can dream. Anyway...It's times like these that I'm aware of the cynicism that is growing within me. There has to be a balance to it. Surely, there is a balance. I don't think that compassion is blind. I think compassion sees exactly what is there and still has pity. But it is not blind. Lord, help me to see what You see, and to act as You would want me to. Help me to not let the anger that wells up within me to govern my actions if You say to act otherwise. Show me what the balance is. I want it to be obvious that You, O Lord, are responsible for the grace being given and received. I don't want people to look at me and question my love for You. If being suckered is what it's going to take, then Lord let it be.
First of all, this new guy is really Random Yardman number 2 (RY2). The other one hasn't been back since last spring. Maybe they rotate neighborhoods. Anyway...he showed up at 3pm two days before Christmas and asked for $100 to rake our yard. A. That is OUTRAGEOUS for our yard. We don't live on 5 acres. Most of the leaves have already been taken care of, and he expected us to provide the bags. B. Do you really plan on starting a yard at 3pm? C. That is OUTRAGEOUS. So...after he gives Mom some long sap story...she agrees to let him work. THEN, after working 2 hours, and ringing the doorbell no less than 3 times in the 2 hours, he asks for an advance. Again with the sap story and a promise to return to finish. Mom said she told him that she trusted the Lord, because when He sent someone to help her, He always made sure they finished. His reply, "That's right; that's right. The Lord sent me."
So...on Christmas Eve, he returned...this time, he was brought by a policeman. To make a long story short, the policeman told him that if he didn't finish our yard in a time he (the policeman) thought was appropriate, that he would be coming after RY2. Mom said, "Well...I guess the Lord wanted to make sure that he came back to finish the job."
He came back today. He got very upset when he found out that Mom was not there to get him some garbage bags and to pay him. He began to give me the sap story and demanded I call her. So...I called her, and we determined that I would get the bags and his money, and since I had to leave shortly, Will would look over the work when RY2 was finished and pay him, if it was complete. When I left, there were open bags of leaves everywhere. When I arrived home...there were open bags of leaves everywhere. When I called my brother to ask what happened, he told me that RY2 was finished. I asked about the open bags, and Will said that RY2 promised that he'd close them and put them on the side of the road. So he paid him and left. So...I closed the bags and put them on the side of the road.
I have spent much of today ranting and raving about being conned and taken and how irate it makes me. Maybe it's a result of getting robbed at knifepoint in my car for accidentally cutting someone off. Maybe it's a result of being harassed in Subway by someone asking for money and then making comments about cutting someone up for crossing his path. Maybe it's a result of working over 40 hours a week, cleaning house, etc. in my spare time, and being taught that everything you do should be as if doing it for the Lord.
And it is this last statement that causes me trouble. It makes me really mad to feel taken advantage of. I've really considered putting up a sign at both doors: "NO SOLICITING!!! This means for yardwork, Girl Scout cookies, hand-outs, etc." However...when I think that what that really says is, "If you're looking for grace, you'll not find it here," that upsets me. I mean, Mom, and even my brother, has this soft place for people out to do a very little work for an unreasonable amount of money. I think our house is well known. I'm sure they say to each other, "Try to avoid going if the little white car is there. Look for the silver one." Mom and I have gone round and round over this kind of thing. I find it very easy to say "no." She says yes, tries to hide it from me, and then inevitably I find out, and we have a discussion about being suckered. I hate it.
And I really hate thinking that I have no mercy. Where is my compassion? And then I wonder...well, does having compassion mean being blind to being suckered? I mean, shouldn't we be able to expect to give what is due when it is due, and not until then? That guy had no intention of returning to our yard. At least, not until he needed the rest of the money. Had that policeman not told him that he would be seeking him out, RY2 would not have come back. And now...since I would rather have a yard free of open leaf-bags, when that policeman drives by, he will think that the job was done and go on about his way.
I haven't thought about myself as a heartless tight-wad. I like to think that I'm a generous, big-hearted, softy. HA !!!! One can dream. Anyway...It's times like these that I'm aware of the cynicism that is growing within me. There has to be a balance to it. Surely, there is a balance. I don't think that compassion is blind. I think compassion sees exactly what is there and still has pity. But it is not blind. Lord, help me to see what You see, and to act as You would want me to. Help me to not let the anger that wells up within me to govern my actions if You say to act otherwise. Show me what the balance is. I want it to be obvious that You, O Lord, are responsible for the grace being given and received. I don't want people to look at me and question my love for You. If being suckered is what it's going to take, then Lord let it be.
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