I have always hated perceived social injustice. I have cried in indignation at what I believe is wrong. I have spewed venom and vile at those who are the supposed wrong doers even when it made me feel wildly out of control or, perhaps, like I was the one in error instead of the offender.
Last night, I read about a possible injustice in my own community that was being supported by one of my friends. I was indignant. I was offended. I was resentful. I was ready to take up arms against the mighty oppressors to vindicate the wronged through a strongly worded Facebook post. And then I stopped.
I actually allowed the Holy Spirit to talk to me in the midst of my madness. Was the momentary satisfaction of a biting comment going to bring the kind of systemic change I was searching for, or would it only exacerbate the situation? Was my issue really with the issue or with the people making the comments? Was I allowing my own past problems to skew my judgement of the present?
God told me to delete the comments that I had violently typed into the computer and wait until his spirit had a chance to calm me. I spent a very sleepless night mulling over the problems in society and the world as a whole. The solutions that came to me weren’t always the leading of the Holy Spirit. Some were down right mean and vengeful, but somewhere around one thirty, I led the Lord slip into my thoughts. The initial anger-induced thoughts of wrath that filled my brain were gradually replaced by the soothing knowledge that God’s got this. I recognized that, yes, what I was reading on the computer was an affront to the community of God and wrong on so many levels, but that the people venting were just as sure that their side was right. (it isn’t). I was imposing my view of Godly power and wealth on people who held a more worldly view of power and wealth. I can’t convince them of the rightness of my argument by answering theirs’ with a crassness that causes them to throw up their defenses. I may be right, but my approach was all wrong.
This morning as I approached God during my quiet time, I asked him not just for guidance, but for the strength to not take offence when this “hot bed” issue comes up at the next school board meeting. What I see as arrogance and apathy, God sees as fear. The people who have signed the petition to keep their children away from my children are perpetuating the stigma of “affluenza” that marks the division of more and less in this area.
I will pray for these people. I will pray for myself. I can’t judge someone for wanting what they feel is the best choice for their child, but I can’t nod in agreement to such a decision either. There is a wide gap in the world that is growing wider every day. We are being sucked over a cliff as we try to attain what doesn’t matter to God.
Yes, I still feel a subtle betrayal by the friend who is mindlessly supporting this cause, but I will pray for him. I will also pray, not just for additional resources to be added to a cash strapped school system that is having trouble in the downhill economy, by for the sterile souls that can’t see the beauty of the kids they are fighting to avoid. When we ignore the true needs of our own community and opt to send a check overseas for the “truly needy”, the fabric of own society begins to unravel. I fully support overseas missions, but there is value in a neighbor’s needs as well. The first step down the slippery slope seems just, but righteous indignation without the Grace of God is a lie that divides.
I am a Christian, a wife, a mom, and a part-time basket case who wants to be a full time writer.