It doesn’t seem fair, that once a person becomes a believer in Christ, that all his sins are forgiven (past, present, and future). However, I am so thankful that God has forgiven my sins (hypocritical, I know). It’s hard for me, as a believer, to watch another believer commit sin, and that person simply continues daily tasks with, what seems to be no repentance. It’s one thing if a person is doing something wrong and is not aware of it, and a completely other thing when a person out rightly knows that what he/she is doing is a sin. Throw into the sack society, culture, family politics, gender cliches, etc. Praise be to God, for loving all of us sinners.
If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men. Beloved, do not avenge yourselves.
Al Hoffman and Dick Manning wrote a song popularized by Pearl Bailey in 1952: “Takes Two to Tango.” That title, based on the dramatic Latin American tango dance, has become an idiom in our culture. Just as it’s impossible to tango alone, so it is impossible to do many things in life alone. Just as it takes two to tango, it also takes two to tussle.
When David was anointed king over Israel by the prophet Samuel, the first thing he did was honor his predecessor who had tried to kill him—King Saul. He called together the men who had collected Saul’s body after battle and given him an honorable burial: “You are blessed of the LORD, for you have shown this kindness to your lord, to Saul, and have buried him” (2 Samuel 2:5). David could easily have sought to avenge himself by punishing Saul’s followers. Instead, he sought to make peace and honor the Lord’s anointed despite the error of his (Saul’s) ways. Love keeps no record of wrongs, delights not in evil, and thinks the best (1 Corinthians 13:5-7).
All quarrels and bitterness can be ended when one person takes the first step. It takes two to tussle, but only one to reach out in love.
The noblest revenge is to forgive.
The septum of my heart, broken
diffusing red with the occult
weak, listless, untenable
wayfarer, languid and lost
Horns for a crown
cerebrum on fire
eyes wide open
wartorn, savage lands
landscape of my heart
weary from trials
assailed by demons
soul lamenting, spirit torn
estranged, wrenched, emasculated
blood red skies
reigning on me
oblation for guilt
my weakness, his strength
new wine for old blood
But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you….
On April 25, 1866, a group of Confederate widows in Columbus, Mississippi, traveled to the Odd Fellows Cemetery where many of their husbands were buried. The Civil War was over, but nerves were raw. These women bore flowers for the graves of their dead. But as they decorated the Confederate graves, they were struck by the barrenness of those of Union soldiers who had perished in nearby battles and been buried there, far from home. The women spontaneously adorned those graves too. A reporter said, “No distinction was made between our own Confederate dead and the Federal soldiers who slept their last sleep by them … Confederate and Federals, once enemies, now friends receiving their tribute of respect.”
Many people hail that moment as the beginning of national healing; and inspired by the story, Francis Finch later wrote “The Blue and the Gray,” which was sung at civic observances for years.1
Nothing is gained by holding a grudge. Jesus told us to love our enemies. When wronged, we should not seek retribution, but reconciliation. Is there someone you can forgive today?
I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.
I have been to several funerals and I have shed my share of tears, just to keep up with appearances. There was a bit of truth in my sorrow, but there was always this pressure to visibly show how I felt. So I have always questioned myself about my lack of sincerety.
When my Dad passed away, I made up my mind to be completely sincere in my affection for him. There were moments when I was almost ready to burst, but I held back; for all the crocodile tears that I had shed, there had to be some sense of justice. And so it was, to this day I haven’t shed a single drop of tear for my father.
My heart feels hardened and I don’t feel like there is any good left in me. I heard some where that we are the heroes in our own lives, that each of us can justify the actions of our past no matter how troubling or horrible it maybe. We are the product of our thoughts. I have lived my life trying to fulfill a lie, lies that I project to the wayfarers.
These days it feels more easier to exhibit myself, to reveal the ugliness of my double standards, dishonesty and wayward life. You see fake people have an image to maintain, but real people just don’t care. Sincerity and truth is basis for every virtue. So even though I am not perfect, I’d rather be known for my weaknesses and failures, because I will have received my condemnation and judgement while I’m still alive.
on a lighter side, I have a sincere story or two that may make you smile
I remember once, when my dad gave me money to pay the electricity bill, but instead I bought a lottery ticket for a brand new car. When I got home, I explained to my Dad what I did and he beat the crap out of me. The next day, when my dad woke up and opened the door, outside my house was a brand new car. We all cried especially me, because the car was from the electricity company, they were there to cut off the electricity, my dad beat the crap out of me again !!! 😦
I hate it when you offer someone a sincere complement on their mustache and suddenly she’s not your friend any more.