Living non-offensively

Live non-offensively. I see many of my followers majoring in criticism, sarcasm, and attack. Too many seem to get a charge out of riling up those who believe differently. You can stand boldly for my truth without being a jerk. Instead, seek to do right by others, even those who strongly disagree with you. Do not compromise the truth, but live with kindness and other-centeredness so that others may come to know my Son.

-1 Corinthians 10:32-33
Letters to the Beloved (releases October 25, 2021)

lacerate

Sarcasm and satire
plant seeds for
weeds that
choke out kindness.

We feast on thorns that
slash and lacerate our
throats, turning our
voices to twin-edged blades
that wound and harm
cutting both others
and ourselves.

I wish…

I shared this on my Facebook feed this morning. I hope it might bless someone here too.

I’ve been slowly journaling through the early years of my life and for the past few days, I’ve been writing about middle school. I don’t have many positive memories from that time. This morning, I was writing about how mean kids are to one another.

In the 7th grade, I dressed differently. I had a rat tail, and I would wear an old Army jacket and sometimes a Harley cap (ironically, kids in my school thought Harleys were stupid back then). I vividly remember being chased for several blocks by a half-dozen of the popular 8th grade boys who always hated me, though I never knew why. I think it boiled down to the fact that they could not tolerate that I existed. They caught me near the football field and pinned me to the ground, pulled out a scissors, and told me they were going to cut off my rat tail. They didn’t, but the rat tail was incidental. The fear and pain I felt that day were damaging enough.

In the 8th grade, I was met at the end of my road by two Sheboygan County sheriffs. They insisted that they escort me home. When my mother arrived, they interrogated me for about an hour, demanding that I confess to stealing another kid’s wallet. I had left wrestling practice angrily that day and two of the guys, again who seemingly hated me, called the police and falsely accused me of stealing a wallet from one of them. The police were unrelenting. About 45 minutes in, my mom asked for a break. We went into my bedroom and I told her, “Maybe I should just tell them I did it so they will leave me alone.” She asked, “did you?” and I told her no. Thank God she told me to stick to my story. Finally, the police left and miraculously, those guys “found” the wallet the next day.

These were the two examples that came to mind this morning. There are many more. Yet I was not innocent. I bullied others as well. That same 8th grade year, I threw one of my classmates into a mud puddle because he refused to give me a piece of gum. I am loathe to think of how many people I hurt with my words or the inappropriate comments and actions directed toward the girls in my class.

I have no doubt kids are facing these same things today. Many of them suffer in silence. As adults, our bullying looks different. If you have spent any time on social media, you know what I am talking about. Twitter and Facebook are playgrounds, complete with bullies of every stripe. We demean one another. We call each other names. We delight in expressing our opinions, we don’t listen. We demand, we don’t ask. Self-righteousness prevails in every corner.

I wish gentleness and kindness were more cherished values. I wish we saw every person we meet as a divine image bearer, deserving of dignity and respect. I wish we would devote ourselves to building up rather than tearing down. I wish…