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| REST STOP #1: Blessed are … you What do you say to a homeless person? “God bless you? Hope you find a warm place to sleep tonight?” What do you say to a murderer, doing life behind bars? “Well, I bet you probably would have done that differently, in retrospect …” What do you say to a person who just discovered she has terminal cancer? “Wow, Jesus can heal you.” To be honest, I’m half scared to say that, not because I don’t believe Jesus can heal her, but I’m not sure he will. So, I pray and say very little. I feel more comfortable telling the murderer that Jesus will forgive him. But there’s another part of me that wants to say, “Hey, what you did was awful.” Part of me wants to say to the homeless man, “Get up, it can’t be that bad.” And part of me knows better, knows that it’s far more complicated than that, and that those other feelings of mine only further victimize him. Not only do I not know what to say, but sometimes I feel like the homeless person and the murderer and the cancer patient, because I’m just as – scared. I feel like a spiritual nobody. I read my little Christian magazine and somebody else just had victory in Jesus. Oh yippy. And then I feel guilty because I’m supposed to be happy for them. But I’m not happy. Why didn’t someone protect me? Where was God when I got hurt? Where is God now? And then I feel guilty because—I reason—it’s probably my fault anyway. I feel like a spiritual zero. Continued... |
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