Tag: lessons learned

Peacemaking or Placating?

If you have ever uttered the words, “There, but the grace of God, go I,” then you will appreciate the lessons I learned yesterday. I get blindsided so often that I’m no longer shocked when I find myself face down in the mud wondering what just happened. Unexpected hits are never easy because pride takes the worst lick. Broken pride takes longer to heal than anything else, but the humbling that comes from the healing is worth the hurt.

God reminded me yesterday that being blindsided can be a very positive thing when He is the one behind the hit. If there are bullets flying in the room, my best friend is going to blindside me and take me to the ground. God did that yesterday and even laid on top of me to make sure I didn’t get up until it was safe to leave. God has helped me dodge bullets before, and He has pulled me out of the water more than once. I am grateful for His willingness to step in and save me when I’m in trouble.

When I come through an almost accident or a situation where I didn’t go somewhere I had planned on going and later found that something terrible happened, I utter the phrase “There, but the grace of God, go I.” It humbles in a way nothing else can, and I am all ears when I hear someone telling the story of how that could have been me. God often teaches me with visual aids because He knows that’s the way I learn. He showed two vivid images yesterday that took my breath away and left me thanking Him for His grace and His patience with this stumbling disciple who doesn’t get it until face down on the ground.

I have the tendency to want to fix and do and help others, and that is not what God has in mind. It is easier to do for others than be still and draw near to Him, and that’s why I choose placating over peacemaking. Peacemakers are blessed. Placaters are not. It’s easier to placate, and it’s something I’ve learned to do very well over the course of my life. The problem with placating is that it is never enough. That was what I heard and saw clearly yesterday as I learned a lesson I needed to learn.

Making selfish people happy only makes me and the ones I’m trying to placate miserable. It’s at the heart of enabling, and I’m an expert when it comes to that, as well. Appeasing has always been appealing to me because it gets immediate gratification for the one I appease and for me. That is hard to hear as are all of God’s lessons, but it is necessary if I am to learn the important difference between peacemaking and placating.

Peacemaking isn’t possible until I am at peace with God and with myself. Peace cannot spread if I do not have it in my heart first. It isn’t something I can give to another, so it doesn’t go along with placating. There is an endless source of peace in God’s love, and He so wants me to tap into it and pass it along. Satan deals with placating, and he will convince me that giving and doing and trying to make others happy is what God wants me to do. That’s where the bullet comes in. If I continue to follow the placating path, I’ll be face up from the wounds inflicted, so I’m thankful God blindsided me yesterday.

It’s not fun being face down in the mud, but it’s better than the alternative. Mud is great for my face, and when I’m all cleaned up, I can say with all my heart, “There, but the grace of God, go I!!”

Laws and Locks

Laws and locks are for honest people and do little to deter those determined to break them. If you’ve ever spent one a day in a courtroom, you know it bears no resemblance at all to the dramatic scenes depicted on the big screen. It is a waste of time designed to wear down those who follow the law.

My wallet was stolen from my car two years ago, and I got a taste of the judicial system at work. A former student stole my wallet which had fallen out of my purse and on to my front passenger seat when I stopped by the drug store earlier in the day. I worked in the church office, and two men had come by to talk with the pastor. When I noticed my wallet was missing, I stepped in to tell the pastor it was missing and that I was going to retrace my steps and would be right back. I wanted him to know it was gone, but I didn’t want to accuse anyone without evidence. He understood my message and took note.

I called from the drugstore to let the pastor know my wallet was indeed missing. By the time I returned to the church, I found him waiting for me in the parking lot. What happened prior to his waiting was something I really wish I could have seen. After my call, one of the men drove by the church and waved at him. Well, that was too much for the pastor, so he hopped in his car and took off up the road. It’s a dead end road, so he knew they would have to come back out the way they came in.

He found one of the men at a worksite and pulled his Prius sideways in the drive to block the exit and got out. I would love to have been a squirrel in a nearby tree and watch the action! After the pastor finished talking, the fellow was contrite and decided to throw the other under the bus. He told the pastor where he could find him. The police were notified, and the pastor returned to the church parking lot to await my arrival.

When I heard the story, I couldn’t help but grin even though it was very serious business by the time I got on the scene. All I could think of was the pastor in his Prius blocking the road and confronting the suspect. The policeman was also a former student and had found the culprit and my wallet by the time I heard the story of the dramatic capture. He confessed to the crime and took the police to the places where he had hidden my credit cards and wallet. Unfortunately, the cash had gone to buy pizzas for his friends. I got a call from the policeman saying that the culprit wanted to come by the church and apologize to me. I love that about being an old teacher:) They drove up in the squad car, and I reached in the back seat and gave him a hug and thanked him for telling the truth. I also told him all was forgiven.

I turned my attention to my former student who was wearing the uniform. I asked him what would be the best thing for me to do. He quickly said I needed to press charges to teach him a lesson. So, I filled out the necessary paperwork and began the complicated process. It seemed like an open and shut case to me, so I figured I’d have my things back quickly and not even have to cancel any credit cards. That just goes to show how little I knew about laws or locks:)

I appeared in court as summoned and expected the process to be very simple. He had confessed, apologized, and taken the police to the stolen items. He even cried because he was ashamed he had stolen from me. How hard could it be? Well,  I learned the answer to that very quickly. Delays are the order of the day in a courtroom. Keep putting it off and eventually folks will just lose interest or give up on getting justice. I stayed the course and continued coming for three more appearances. Lawyers got involved; DA’s were called in, and justice was dying a slow, painful death right in front of me. I spent three days sitting and waiting and wondering what in the world was going on.

On the last day, my patience was worn thin. I decided to just quit and walked out of the courtroom. As I was walking down the steps in front of the courthouse, I was telling myself and God that I had tried; that was enough, wasn’t it?  I passed some men sitting on the steps smoking. They starting making disparaging remarks and using profanity. I thought to myself surely they aren’t talking about me. Are they?? Then I noticed the sheriff’s van heading around to the back entrance.  I threw caution to the wind and took off after the big black van. I should add that I know and love the sheriff.  I knew he would hear my plea for help and sympathize with me, and I could use some sympathy.

The sheriff invited me to join him as he went in back entrance of the building, much to the dismay of those with him. He listened patiently to my story and told one of the men with him to take care of me. It’s amazing how those slow wheels began to spin. I found myself in a room being asked what I wanted. I stated that I simply wanted the truth to be told. Either my former student or his lawyer or both of them were going to have lie in front of me. It was their choice. I only wanted the truth, my wallet, my credit cards, and my money returned. They agreed to pass along the information to the defendant and his lawyer.

In a few moments, I was told the defendant had agreed to plead guilty. I could go back to the church and not worry about it anymore. That process took almost a year, and it has been over a year since the guilty plea. I still don’t have my wallet, my cancelled credit cards, or my $34.00, but I did get a lesson worth much more. Laws and locks get in the way of honest folks, but they don’t really bother those determined to break them.

God would say, “Welcome to my world dear:)”

Stolen Marbles

Doing the right thing is simple until I start to rationalize. Then I get into dangerous waters. The scripture from Mark 7 this week is a stark reminder that it’s what’s inside that matters most. I’m thankful the Holy Spirit convicts me when what’s inside doesn’t go along with what’s right.  When I find myself saying I know, but…then I know I need a heart check. I recall a night long ago when I learned an important lesson in making things right and not waiting around to do it.  God knows I’m human and make mistakes; He also knows those mistakes are wonderful opportunities for growth.  It all began with some marbles I believed I had every right to steal.

Although I can’t recall the specific month or year, I remember a cold evening when daddy and I woke up the neighbors in the middle of the night to return a bag of stolen marbles. It was after midnight because mama and daddy were asleep, and they always watched the eleven o’clock news before going to bed. I had been crying since nine, and it seemed an eternity passed before I finally got the nerve to wake up daddy. That was not something I did lightly!

I slipped into my parents’ bedroom and began crying hysterically.  When I finally composed myself, I began confessing to my father. I had stolen Eugene’s marbles and had to take them back.  Daddy must have sensed my sincerity and was used to my odd behavior, but I’m sure he was taken aback when I woke him from a sound sleep babbling on about marbles.

The story spilled out as I told the details between sobs. Eugene was much older than me and picked on me mercilessly. He was the neighborhood bully and my friend’s older brother. He deviled us all day and won most of my marbles while we played. I saw his marble bag and made up my mind to take it.  With much malice and forethought, I stole his marbles and took them home. My revenge wasn’t as sweet at eleven as it had been earlier in the afternoon, and a sense of dread overtook me as I realized what I had done. I had to get those marbles back to him, and I couldn’t wait until morning.

I braced myself for what I knew was coming and was shocked when daddy didn’t send me back to my room.  He didn’t yell or tell me to keep the *#%&  marbles and go to sleep. Neither would have surprised me, but what he did next threw me for a loop. He calmly got out of bed, put on his coat, pulled on his shoes, and told me to put on my shoes and coat and get the marbles.  I ran to my room, did what he said, and met him in the living room.

Daddy and I walked across the street in silence.  He had a hold of my hand, and I had a hold of the marbles. When we got to Eugene’s house, daddy let go of my hand and rang the doorbell. We waited on the porch while the house came to life.  Lights came on and Reverend Couch appeared at the door.  He was in a confused and ruffled state, and I forgot for a moment the somber reason for the visit as I took in his appearance. I had never seen him without his trademark white suit and straw hat. I suppose I thought he slept in it:)

Daddy preceded to tell Dexter that I needed to speak with Eugene. We waited on the porch again while Dexter went to get his son. I realize now that he must have thought Eugene the criminal rather than me.  He was twice my size and had a mean streak.  I also imagine Dexter might have been a bit unnerved having Foy Holden on his doorstep after midnight with his little disheveled daughter in tow.  Daddy also had a reputation in the neighborhood, and there was no love lost between him and the reverend. At the time, however, I was only concerned with the punishment that was coming.  My guilty conscience got me to this place, but I knew I’d be on my own as soon as as the facts were in the open.

When Eugene showed up at the door, I began to think about what he might do to me. He tormented me daily for doing absolutely nothing, and I could only imagine what he was going to do to me when he found out I stole his marbles.  I began to wail out my confession and fell into a state of hysteria.  I finished, hung my head, and waited for the worst.  Reverend Couch was known for his fiery sermons, and I was sure to get one now. No one said anything, so I said I was sorry and gave Eugene the marbles.  Daddy and I turned and crossed the street.  Dexter and Eugene went inside the house.

I remember looking up at daddy.  He wasn’t looking at me, but he was grinning from ear to ear.  My burden was lifted. Was a pardon possible since I had confessed and done the right thing? Could daddy actually be proud of me? I realize now that daddy was grinning because he got Eugene in trouble and rattled the reverend’s cage.  There was nothing daddy enjoyed more than that. Whatever the real reason for the grin, I thought it was because daddy was proud of me.  I’m sure he was glad I did the right thing and was proud of me. I’m thankful he got out of his warm bed and took me across the street in the middle of the night. I slept like a baby when I got back into my bed and learned a powerful lesson about confessing and not waiting when it comes to doing the right thing.

That lesson is even more powerful as I recall it today, and I thank God for placing the memory in my path this morning.  When I wake in the middle of the night thinking about something I should be doing or something I shouldn’t be doing, it is still a good idea to wake up my Father, confess what’s on my heart, and not wait until morning to do the right thing.  It puts a grin on God’s face when I tell Him what He already knows and has been waiting for me to confess. Lesson learned, again! Thank you God:)