I woke up today already at my wits end. And I hate it.
Yesterday was rough, and a shitty night's rest didn't calm the heart or clear the mind. And then I hit my head on a branch while trying to get my scooter out of its parking spot. My headphones dropped to the ground. I cursed. Then sat, biting, and holding down everything that wanted to spill out, because Daddy didn't raise no baby.
Sin is for one man to walk brutally over the life of another and to be quite oblivious of the wounds he has left behind. How much more so when the brutality is conscious, when the wounds are purposeful, and when they are done under the guise of love and kindness and, "I just thought you should know."
Then Warren MacLeod emailed me, without provocation, and gave me this verse:
I Thessalonians 5:9-21
For God did not appoint us to wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, that whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with him. Therefore comfort each other and edify one another, just as you also are doing. And we urge you, brethren, to recognize those who labor among you, and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love for their work's sake. Be at peace among yourselves. Now we exhort you, brethren, warn those who are unruly, comfort the fainthearted, uphold the weak, be patient with all. See that no one renders evil for evil to anyone, but always pursue what is good both for yourselves and for all. Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise prophecies. Test all things; hold fast what is good.
I have a little green New Testament, plus Psalms and Proverbs, Bible from Australia. It's pocket-size, and therefore fits neatly in my pocket, but I rarely carry it around because I hate things in my pockets. Today though, I carried my little green pocket-sized Bible and added a little red sticky bookmark on I Thessalonians 5:9-21.
Over and over I read it.
Over and over.
Like the soothing voice of Dad
In the early hours of mo(u)rning,
my eyes opened. Slowly.
Slowly.
I read it.
And the voice . . .
And the morning . . .
And my eyes opened slowly.
Because
Over and over I read it.
I read it.
Verse 8 reads: "But let us who are of the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet the hope of salvation."
Those of the day . . . I like that.
Those of the day are not subject to wrath and slander. They edify and encourage. Those of the day warn those reaching out for the darkness, they comfort and uphold t, and they are patient.
Those of the day hold fast to what is good. Even when it doesn't feel good.
Because they are those of the day.