A very recent experience has left me troubled in my mind, in my heart and in my spirit. My mind holds on to the thing that was done to me, the memory of it. I'm certain the enemy seeks to stir that as often as possible, to keep me stewing in it. My heart bears the hurt, like a fresh wound, painful, sore to the touch. In typical human nature, I don't leave alone to heal, but pick and pull at the scab, inspecting it deeply. It can do nothing less than leave a huge scar.
It is the residual effects in my spirit that I wrestle with the most. This whole situation has called upon me to measure my Christianity. Many of the standards I hold up are false measures. They are traditions, long-held beliefs and religious pillars in my life. Much like testing the earthquake-readiness of a building, my foundations have taken some shaking. Cracks have been opened, weaknesses revealed.
Here's the thing: people will hurt you. I've known this much of my life. It rarely affected me like it has in this situation, but I can look back and see a few times when God has shaken my foundations to test me. You should know something about me - I am the eternal optimist.
My mother told me this story when I was growing up, about two little girls. One was a pessimist, the other an incurable optimist. The parents wanted to help the girls see things with more balance. So they showered the pessimist with grand gifts, hoping to improve her outlook on life. Of the new bike, she proclaimed it would only make her fall down and scrape herself. Of the grand new dolly, she said it would be broken and dirty with use. Nothing they gave her ever met with her approval. The other girl could find no wrong in any gift. So, they gave her a sack full of horse manure. She squealed with joy and ran through the house, laughing all the while. She opened closet doors, peeked under all the beds, become more and more excited. Finally, her parents stopped her to ask, "what are you so excited about, child?" She replied, "With all this manure, there must be a pony around here somewhere!"
That was me. I saw only the good in any situation. This is not a bad trait to have. I have certainly given grace where others might not have. In this case, though, I feel I might have had blinders over my rose-colored glasses. I opened my home to a family in need. That is what I saw - actually, I didn't even see that until they arrived. I truly opened my heart to them because I saw an opportunity to heal relationships. Perhaps I was even guilty of meddling.
Now, As I look back on the whole experience, I still struggle to see all of the pieces of God's plan through the haze of pain and disillusionment. These people took advantage of me. They lied to me, and then they stole from me. I responded in anger, but I also followed my husband's lead, as we sternly invited these offenders to leave our home and not return.
Now I have to return to the wound, examine it and find it's root cause, and discover if it will heal as it should, or if perhaps there is something festering deep down that must be rooted out. What I fear is a residual pain that will hold me back from helping the next person in need. It is in my nature to trust, and to give. That leaves me wide open to being taken advantage of. This is most certainly a large part of why I am with the husband I have. He, being the polar opposite of me, wields far more wisdom and caution than I.
I will have to continue this post in a day or so, as I ferret out all the causes and effects this situation has put upon me as a Christian. I saw this as an opportunity to be Jesus to someone who hadn't known Him. Did I fail? Did I plant a seed? I may never know. And I am left examining broken pieces of my heart, asking God why it had to happen. When, or if, I discover more answers, I want to share them with you. Because deep down, I know that I am not alone in this.
Until next time, may God richly bless you in all of His wisdom and love.
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