Saturday was to be a day of great expectation, a day long-planned for. It turned out (for me) to be a day of the unexpected as well. At one point in the day’s function, I approached a group of three people, as I had already spoken to two of the people I reached out to touched the elbow of the third person (whom I had not seen in close to a year). The response I received (with teeth bared and lips curled back) was “Don’t touch me.” I was totally caught of guard and yet I responded kindly.
Awhile later, I saw a relative of the person and related the incident to them, and asked what/why the meanness (particularly from one who in the past would say “You’re just like family to me”)? The response I got was that “Sometimes you just happen upon a person at the wrong time. They’re having a bad time and you just happen to be the one that gets it.”
Well Bugger, that makes me feel just great! I picture a skunk that flips it’s tail back and phffft! — right in the face and then kindly walks away as though nothing ever happened. And just as with the stink of that skunk spray, you get to carry that verbal stink home with you. Both require a washing to rid yourself of that which is unwanted. Bathing in tomatoes–I’m told– remedies the physical, but what of the mental?
I have to forgive that person. That is something I must do, or the stink will remain…on me. And the thing is, I have to do it. God can’t. I have to do my own forgiving. God can’t do my forgiving for me. Sometime, I don’t feel like forgiving. I’m fatigued, why me? Why? I didn’t asked to be dumped on. I imagine that single mother, who after working all day has to come home and cook a meal for her family. She knows she has to (the kids gotta eat) and no one else can do it but her. I feel her frustration at once again facing an issue she has little strength or desire to do.