Writings in the sand

I found this journal entry fairly inspiring, so I thought I'd share:
John 8        

Vs. 7 – Many people ask what Jesus wrote in the sand.  I ask, “Why?”  And I think the reason was to remove himself from the mind of the accusers so that instead of seeing what Jesus would do next, they would instead think of what they would do next.  It’s hard to be introspective when a man you want to kill is staring you down.  He played in the dirt in order that they might take their eyes off of him.  Yet he still wanted to remain there, perhaps to protect the woman, or perhaps to be there when they left.  Perhaps he was doing a math problem.  Who knows.  How can I apply this to my life?  Does God play in the dirt sometimes with me?  How about when I am angry with someone for sinning, and I bring them before God, and I ask – “God, what will you do with this sinner!?!”  Expecting Him to kill them.  Does He ignore me and my whining, my request for their head on a platter, and silence Himself towards me?  Does he prompt me to ask if I am sinless, or to think about myself in their position?  I think He does.  I think He does a lot. 

For instance, last week as I was turning my car into the neighborhood there was a car sitting in the middle of the street.  I was in a hurry, so I went around it, to the left.  The driver then began to chase me.  So I sped up, wanting to lose him.  He sped up too.  I then pulled into my driveway and gathered my things and went in.  He yelled at me from his car parked in front of my driveway.  “We don’t speed on Valley View!  Come Listen to me or I’ll call the cops!”  I glared at him and went inside. 

Now, I didn’t particularly like this guy, and I don’t think he liked me very much.  I was afraid for my safety and the safety of my family and possessions.  This weekend I was in the driveway working on a bookshelf and he pulled up in a different car and yelled out the window, “Come here!”  So I took my screwdriver and hid it in my pocket, just in case.  He proceeded to tell me that he was shocked I have kids and that he thought I was a young punk that he was going to drag into his parents and have them teach him a lesson.  He said that I can speed anywhere else, but that this was his daughters car and she is learning to drive and don’t speed in his neighborhood.  I told him that I don’t usually speed, but that someone was chasing me that day.  He said I came around the corner really fast and could have caused and accident.  I didn’t remember coming around the corner any faster than I usually do, but I may have, so I admitted that I might have done so.  I felt like lecturing him on how he shouldn’t be a vigilante, and that if he ever chased my kids like that, I’d shoot him.  But I didn’t.  I just said – No hard feelings and shook his hand.  That guy has a screw loose and needs mental counseling. 

Well, I feel safer knowing that he isn’t as mad at me as he was. 

But in the time between the confrontation and our Make-up session, was a tough time for me.  I had to push away thoughts of guns and disposing of his body and the such-like.  I didn’t want to go down that road.  I knew that if I had to stop him, even if by self-defense, then I would be guilty of breaking the law and I could either come clean before God and man, or it would eat away at me until I was a shell of who I once was.  Either way I’d probably be in a prison for a while, and it would mean that I couldn’t take care of my family.  I didn’t even want to be put in a situation like that.  I hope and pray that I never am.  Its not fun, or a thrill.  There are consequences to ending someone’s life, even if it is self defense.  Years of litigation, interviews, property searches and seizures, it will affect your work life, family life, social life, drain your time and money and all kinds of stuff – not like they show in the movies. 

I was forced to put myself in his shoes and deal with my anger.  I’m sad to report I don’t even remember praying about that situation.  But God probably would have just ignored me, and let me quit whining so that He could talk to me.  Ever notice how hard it is to talk to a whining child?  Or one who is crying for no good reason?  You just want to smack them.  We are like that to God all the time, whining about this that or the other thing. 

Stephanie is not happy with me right now.  She is mad that I didn’t help her put our four kids to bed.  Additionally, she is mad at the kids for not listening to her at all.  I don’t blame her.  We all suck and she is great. 

I shouldn’t have been fixing the four under sink shutoff valves tonight.  I should have stopped and helped her.  But she usually does it single handedly and makes it look easy.  I left her a letter of ion yesterday.  I really do appreciate her.  I elft her some notes oo.  But its never enough.