Following the Good and the Otherwise
"Mom, I think I'll follow Satan," the little voice said. "Why ever for?" the mother stopped in shocked surprise.
"Well, I've tried being good, and I think I'll try the other way for awhile."
I'm sure I've messed that conversation up, but it was a real conversation between another (much better known than I) writer and her daughter. I don't know how the mother finished their conversation, but she must have handled it well. Her children all turned out fine and are now grown.
Some days are like that. You're trying to do right, to be a decent person, even following Jesus, but what happens? Things go wrong and it is a full fledged fight to the finish. It can get ugly.
A few years ago one of my favorite local talk show hosts had a medical emergency from which he hasn't fully recovered yet. He's still working at relearning the things he's lost, but he's fighting his way back as well. I enjoyed Jan's show because he had a way of holding people's feet to the fire...even people he agreed with, and he could match wits with just about anyone. Yes, he has someone who has taken over his time slot, and although I have listened on occasion to the other person, my analysis is: A bad day with Jan, is still better than a good day with anyone else.
After some particularly frustrating happenings I feel like kicking the wall. I wonder if I'm really important to the God of the universe, or Jesus. My Grandma used to say: I'm just a little old lady trying to get along. Well, I'm just an old idiot trying to get along--at least so I feel on those particular days. Maybe I should just give up and...And what? Somewhat like the little girl in the above paragraph, and try Satan? Hmm. I've seen how that works for people. An inconvenient truth, like the analogy with my favorite local talk show host, even a bad day with God/and Jesus is better than a good day with the other side...
So, my adorable cousin and I are having a conversation and for some reason I begin to have muscle cramps. "Whoa!" I say very loudly.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
"I've got to go get a drink of water. I have to drink three to four quarts of water every day, or my muscles cramp."
"That's a lot of water. Isn't that quite a bit of running to the bathroom?"
"Only at night..." I say and we both laugh, because of course talk about inconvenient—that's the worst time.
Psalm 56:8 "Thou numberest my wanderings: Put thou my tears into thy bottle; Are they not in thy book?9) Then shall mine enemies turn back in the day that I call: This I know, that God is for me."
