Last week the Holy Spirit spoke to me and said, "prepare to be maligned." I thought to myself, oh no! To be honest I'm not really good at being lied on and talked about. By not good I mean, I defend myself and get hurt feelings. I have been known to get feisty and mean too. Not to mention the way I call my mother, sisters and friends and trash the gossipers. Talk about a group of sharped tongued, quick-witted, vicious women. They make the gossipers sound like saints. I usually take comfort in the way my love ones defend and affirm me. It usually works for at least a minute or two, as soon as I hang up the phone the hurt in the pit of my stomach returns and I fight the back the tears-or not. However Abba wants me to bypass my calls and come to him with my pain. I know that's the right thing to do, but I sometimes have a hard time doing the right thing, No matter how many time He tells me it's him they are coming against,s it still feels like me. I'm such a crybaby sometimes.
My sister Claudia told me I have to develop tougher skin. She also advised me against the kind of verbal attacks that wound the gossiper. That don't seem fair! But I know she's right. I have to always remember that everyone that I come in contact with is a person Jesus died for and I'm His ambassador. I have to give up my right to be right and let him fight my battles. He once stopped me in the middle of my smart-ass defense and verbal insult that my quick-witted, genetic and environmental rearing afford me. As soon as I open my mouth Jesus said, " I never uttered a word." I know immediately that He didn't want me to defend myself, because He never defended Himself. I was predisposed to being a total smart-ass, but I shut up mid sentence.
As a young child of seven or eight after my dad went to prison, I thought I needed to be more grown up. I had to protect my mama from the neighborhood creeps that were always hitting on her. There was this one guy that was particularly annoying. He was considered a neighborhood good guy, but I knew he had bad intentions. He was always knocking with offerings of food, rides or any type of help he thought we needed. To say I despised him would be an understatement. One particular day during one of his many futile attempts at winning my mama heart, she had gotten really annoyed. I asked if she wanted me to get rid of him for her, she said, "yes." Me, never one to miss an opportunity to misbehave legally asked, "can I curse?" She must have really been annoyed that day, because she said "yes." Boy oh boy did I let him have it. "What the hell do you want? Why are you always knocking on our door? My mama not here! and if she was she don't want you, your buckets of chicken or anything else you have, now get your ass away from our door." My mama gave me a disapproving look, but not before I caught a twinkle of laughter in her eyes. My brothers and sisters were laughing hysterically. After that day I was unofficially declared the household smart ass. My job was to get rid of all annoying communicators whether it was would be suitors or bill collectors. I took my job seriously, although I was never allowed to say bad words again.
It's been years that Abba has worked on me to unlearn these crazy behavior patterns. Not long after that day I was sent to live in Kentucky with my great-aunt Maude, uncle Charles and my all time best big sister/cousin Sheila. They lived in a small quiet country town. Everyone knew each other, most went to church on Sunday. Sheila played the piano at church aunt Maude attended regularly. I was probably quiet and sweet the first few days, I have always been mostly shy, but it didn't take long for the hell-raising me to come out of hiding. Aunt Maude had no problem taking the strap to the backside of that little hell-raiser. I never got spanked for what I did, it was always something out-of-line that I said. I wasn't used to spanking as I never did anything I was told not to, but I was always allowed to say whatever came to mind. Years later aunt Maude told me some of the things I said, I was mortified. Despite the spankings I was loved by my new family, and because of aunt Maude I meet Jesus for the first time. He's been trying to keep that hell-raiser in check every since. I pray that during this maligning that I get it right, and realize that they really did do the same to Jesus, and it's not me, but the fact that I teach the unadulterated gospel that drives the talkers desire to discredit me.
The talking has started, one woman that has an IQ of 65 per her, called me stupid at least 3 times that I heard. The nosy lady is mad at me for changing the council annual memorial day yard sale until the first of June, I just thought it would be better to wait until the mostly senior and disabled people get a check in case they want to purchase anything, and for the neighborhood folk to not be busy doing other things on the holiday. She has called me twice in the last couple of days being completely nice-nasty. I'm almost certain she's bad-mouthing me. There's no telling who else is talking about me. I'm surrounded by wounded and hurting people, unfortunately wounded birds will peck you no matter how you love them. I just don't want to be ever found guilty of wounding them more. I just want to set my face like a flint, and look to Jesus the author and finisher of my faith. I want to love despite the ridicule and rejection.
Fearless
PS not defending myself is not one of my strong suits.
My sister Claudia told me I have to develop tougher skin. She also advised me against the kind of verbal attacks that wound the gossiper. That don't seem fair! But I know she's right. I have to always remember that everyone that I come in contact with is a person Jesus died for and I'm His ambassador. I have to give up my right to be right and let him fight my battles. He once stopped me in the middle of my smart-ass defense and verbal insult that my quick-witted, genetic and environmental rearing afford me. As soon as I open my mouth Jesus said, " I never uttered a word." I know immediately that He didn't want me to defend myself, because He never defended Himself. I was predisposed to being a total smart-ass, but I shut up mid sentence.
As a young child of seven or eight after my dad went to prison, I thought I needed to be more grown up. I had to protect my mama from the neighborhood creeps that were always hitting on her. There was this one guy that was particularly annoying. He was considered a neighborhood good guy, but I knew he had bad intentions. He was always knocking with offerings of food, rides or any type of help he thought we needed. To say I despised him would be an understatement. One particular day during one of his many futile attempts at winning my mama heart, she had gotten really annoyed. I asked if she wanted me to get rid of him for her, she said, "yes." Me, never one to miss an opportunity to misbehave legally asked, "can I curse?" She must have really been annoyed that day, because she said "yes." Boy oh boy did I let him have it. "What the hell do you want? Why are you always knocking on our door? My mama not here! and if she was she don't want you, your buckets of chicken or anything else you have, now get your ass away from our door." My mama gave me a disapproving look, but not before I caught a twinkle of laughter in her eyes. My brothers and sisters were laughing hysterically. After that day I was unofficially declared the household smart ass. My job was to get rid of all annoying communicators whether it was would be suitors or bill collectors. I took my job seriously, although I was never allowed to say bad words again.
It's been years that Abba has worked on me to unlearn these crazy behavior patterns. Not long after that day I was sent to live in Kentucky with my great-aunt Maude, uncle Charles and my all time best big sister/cousin Sheila. They lived in a small quiet country town. Everyone knew each other, most went to church on Sunday. Sheila played the piano at church aunt Maude attended regularly. I was probably quiet and sweet the first few days, I have always been mostly shy, but it didn't take long for the hell-raising me to come out of hiding. Aunt Maude had no problem taking the strap to the backside of that little hell-raiser. I never got spanked for what I did, it was always something out-of-line that I said. I wasn't used to spanking as I never did anything I was told not to, but I was always allowed to say whatever came to mind. Years later aunt Maude told me some of the things I said, I was mortified. Despite the spankings I was loved by my new family, and because of aunt Maude I meet Jesus for the first time. He's been trying to keep that hell-raiser in check every since. I pray that during this maligning that I get it right, and realize that they really did do the same to Jesus, and it's not me, but the fact that I teach the unadulterated gospel that drives the talkers desire to discredit me.
The talking has started, one woman that has an IQ of 65 per her, called me stupid at least 3 times that I heard. The nosy lady is mad at me for changing the council annual memorial day yard sale until the first of June, I just thought it would be better to wait until the mostly senior and disabled people get a check in case they want to purchase anything, and for the neighborhood folk to not be busy doing other things on the holiday. She has called me twice in the last couple of days being completely nice-nasty. I'm almost certain she's bad-mouthing me. There's no telling who else is talking about me. I'm surrounded by wounded and hurting people, unfortunately wounded birds will peck you no matter how you love them. I just don't want to be ever found guilty of wounding them more. I just want to set my face like a flint, and look to Jesus the author and finisher of my faith. I want to love despite the ridicule and rejection.
Fearless
PS not defending myself is not one of my strong suits.
1 comment:
You will be just fine, keep doing what you have to do :)
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