I mean when I am caught being a jerk. When I am devoid of compassion. When I say stupid things. When I have failed to show the love that lies within me. When I am tight fisted; even more so when my heart is made of stone.
I hate it when it takes me only seconds to realize that I have done it again. I have brought sadness and hurt into someone's life. I have wounded another or bought into my own jealousy or envy. I have gleefully accepted the benefits of a system which unfairly cheats another - and claimed no responsibility. You want to know what I really hate it? I really hate it when someone else calls me on it. I really hate being a public sinner.
I want to run from that awful feeling so I often compound the whole mess by trying to justify my actions, mitigate the impact of my words, pretend that I had the best intentions. I have a closet full of excuses: I was tired, I wasn't feeling well, the other person was nasty, they behaved badly, I owed them nothing. They are, however, only excuses.
The reason I fall into this pit is singular. I am afraid and fear makes us stupid (and blind and deaf too I think). It paralyzes us. We can no longer think straight, and we certainly can't hear the voice of Jesus nor feel the prompting of the Holy Spirit.
Then it isolates us. When fear is in control, we cannot form real community. Community requires an enormous share of giving: giving of ourselves but also giving others the space to live equally blessed lives.
I think that son who ran off with half his father's money and then had to come home groveling for forgiveness and mercy felt much the same way. Yet, much to his surprise, his father was there, waiting for him, rejoicing at his return, celebrating with all. (Luke 15)
Jesus stands in the road watching and waiting for us to turn around, to leave our stupidity behind and trust in his mercy and love. On those days when I am dead wrong, it is only the love of God that can call me to life. Welcome home, brother, we've missed you.
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