Today, as I folded old newspapers for the bottom layer of mulch around our front porch, I remembered the news. I hesitated to fold up the miners’ widows and children and place them down there with the earthworms. From an armload of the past year, I folded up wars and rumors of wars, and earthquakes in diverse places. I folded up a presumed leader or two who are all but jumping up and down with whining to rule the world. I put them all, all, all where they would molder and kept on about my business as if nothing were happening, only slightly disturbed, only somewhat concerned. I’ll probably mail more money somewhere, to help.
Yesterday I bought and planted. Tomorrow I hope to sell a few things. Tonight we’re having leftovers from a couple days of entertaining. I jokingly told my husband, “It’s either eat leftovers or else buy another fridge, take your pick.”
My calendar blackens fast. I face deadlines. The socks will not fold themselves.
Annie Herring called this state “earthbound”. That’s what I am—thinking about the dryer buzzer, or worse, the mulch, instead of the pain around me.
Just in this country, how many women lost their husbands to unfair mining practices lately? How many to unfair auto accidents, unfair divorce, unfair medical mistakes, unfair imprisonment? How many women lost children to similar causes, and more, such as school attacks and Ritalin-induced suicide last week, or murder? The toll is breathtaking. They would not all fit into the sanctuary of my church. Each one needs to know the power of God to get them through this. Few do. This, at last, breaks my heart. How will they cope? How will they survive without our wonderful Lord?
The world’s ways will not cut it. Although the world now acknowledges the need for forgiveness, it refuses to acknowledge the gift and the Giver of forgiveness. Only those who know the Lord’s way will truly thrive. Healing is right at hand, but few will take the cure. Most prefer the slow, scarring way with pockets of infection remaining below the surface.
I need to know forgiveness. I need to become closely familiar with her. She is such a true friend and has the balm for my every sore spot. I want to heal, to have only faint scars, not deep pockets of infection. I want to walk straight and with only a slight limp. I never want any wound to disable me permanently. Forgiveness can give me this.
Forgiveness is an often mis-defined, mysterious lady, so seldom sought out, yet totally reachable. There is no reason for the mystery, except our stubborn disinclination to hear her hidden song.
Oh, the glory of shedding misconceptions about forgiveness and taking up her gift!
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