Holy Spirit Working Overtime

Oh, another day, another....day. I keep trying to make some bread I made once that was delish, but now, I cannot for the life of me figure out that same accidental recipe, and every time I try, we end up with disgusto bread. Even the kids won't eat it, and they think everything is good, especially when it's slathered in honey or gooey jam. This taste like flour, and regardless of how flour is the key to many good things, on its own is pretty disgusting. How many kids have stuck their fingers into a bag of flour to taste - maybe behind their mother's backs - to find that their mother was right when she said, "Don't eat that, it doesn't taste good."

Well, today I got the angriest blog comment in response to my last blog about racism. Actually, I thought it was amusing. OK, I will admit that initially I thought, "Who is this fool who commented so angrily to my blog? I mean, get your own blog, if you can come up with any unique rantings at how completely ignorant and awful all of us Christians are, but good luck with that, because I think they've all been redundantly exhausted to infinity and beyond." I mean, I'm guessing he didn't get through all the paragraphs of my last blog, since essentially, his angry quip became a charactcature of paragraph four, but at least he didn't spell anything wrong, well except for the word, "possible," and it wasn't as much a misspelling, as it lacked the right suffix. (Here's a hint: It should have been "possibly," but he called me ignorant, so he probably didn't think I'd notice).

Anyhoo, when I came in off the ledge from reading his expressed desires of what he'd have liked "the Romans" to have done to all the Christians, I liked this guy. I mean, I realize that he hates me, or at least he hates his limited knowledge of me, but at least he's not lukewarm! He wouldn't want me to say this because some Christian somewhere has stepped on his toes a few times, or so it seems, but Jesus (Our Lord and Savior whom my new blog friend called, "a petty thief") spoke vehemently against being "lukewarm." Jesus said, "So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth" (Revelation 3:16).

My new friend also kept referencing the Romans: I know that, per my new friend, I appear to be ignorant (maybe he's bought into stereotypes of dumb blonds, or Christians who rely solely on blind faith), but didn't the Romans fall? I feel like I'm pointing out someone's exposed slip, you know, like with that saying, "It's raining in the north, but it's snowing in the south." Have you ever heard of that saying? It's the thing that women are supposed to say to each other to point out, but not too overtly, that a woman's dress or skirt slip is showing beneath the hem.

Anyway, it is my understanding that the Romans are no longer in existence, as "The Romans," per se. I mean, surely there are people who are of Roman descent, but really when you make an adulating comment regarding the Romans, isn't it sort of like addressing the people of Atlantis, or Pompeii? It's OK though, because sometimes that's how I feel about disco - "Long Live Disco!"

I am really not trying to upset my new blog buddy, I'm just pointing out a few strange idiosyncrasies of his post. By the way, I didn't post his comment, because such anger is frankly uncomfortable for everyone. (Sorry, John, but it's not like you expected this "ignorant, narrow-minded" Christian to print that. Really, I'm loaded down with that sort of thing just listening to "The View"), and it's my prerogative, since it's my blog.

What I was getting at, before I addressed John directly, was that to my surprise my best friend in the whole world (John, you're not going to like this), the Holy Spirit did this amazing thing inside me, and that's why beyond my human upset and reaction of the flesh, I can seriously love John through the Holy Spirit - wherever John is on this big blue ball spinning around in the universe.

John, as a Christian, I am sorry for whomever has offended you in the name of Christ. I'm not kidding. I'm sorry if that offensive Christian is me. I am sorry you have opted to hold onto that anger, not giving it over to God. I am sorry that you think everyone who thinks differently than you is "ignorant." And, John, I hope that the next time you run into a Christian, whether on-line, or in the line at the grocery store, you remember that there is someone else here on the globe that is praying for this guy John, who the good Lord put in front of me. You think I'm kidding, or being sarcastic, I'm not. I don't know you. I don't know your trials, but I know that God's ways are not accidental.

Seriously, if the overworked Holy Spirit who dwells within me wasn't at the reigns of this wild horse, I'd be running head-long toward a cliff before I took out a few angry people named John along the way, dragging them under the dust of my pounding hooves. See, most of time, when the Holy Spirit isn't working painfully hard to reign me in, I am no different than John. Ironic that John is the name of the last living disciple. Does anyone else see the irony? Maybe not, probably least of all, John. While I'm sure there were lots of people named John prior to the birth of John the Disciple, John was considered the "beloved disciple" - the most loved by Jesus.

Though John may come back to me with a fury, I want to let him know that Jesus loves him. Just like the prodigal son who despised his father enough to demand his inheritance even prior to his father's death - a true insult in its time - that earthly father RAN to greet his broken son when he returned. Guess what, John? You can wish all day long that Jesus' death had been more painful, like you stated in your venomous comment to me. I think you achieve that goal every time you wish such a thing on your Heavenly Father, just like the prodigal son hoped for his father's premature death. All I know is that He is waiting for you, arms wide open to receive you, should you ever be that broken. As for me, I accept you anyway, because I've been where you are: I am nothing more than a little jagged, imperfect reflection of His perfect, holy, complete, and wonderful love - a love that makes us better than when we are left to our own.