reflections about life and the randomness that follows

This weekend was incredible working with the students of Lexington UMC and some great volunteers. Palm Sunday kicked off Holy week and the ball now begins to roll quickly through Maunday Thursday and Good Friday to the celebration of the resurrection of our Lord! For a staff person at a church this is a fun, but crazy week.

As if I needed to experience a night with the highway patrol, a restaurant manager, a USDA certified… donkey (being very, very nice with my very, very limited name calling vocabulary.)

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to meet with a group called the Lexington One Community Coalition (LOCC) at a local Mexican restaurant. Of course I wasn’t going to miss a free meal! So Kristie and I RSVP’d and went to investigate what kind of serious conversation the LOCC could conjure up  at a Mexican restaurant.

They had some incredible information about local middle and high schools across the Columbia, SC area. The conversation centered mostly around the perception of alcohol among teens and how it continues to be the #1 substance that teens choose to abuse. We talked about how we could impact our communities by doing simple things. Overall, I think it was a productive meeting. There was a police officer, aka Po-po, at the meeting who reported on house parties, DUI related deaths among teens, and what kinds of problems the local police are facing and how LRADAC has teamed up with police and fire fighters to improve our communities.

I wish I would have snagged his card or badge number or something so I could get in touch with him. I had no I clue that I could have used this connection later.

After wrapping up lunch, dropping off Kristie, finishing up work at the office I went home to see my wife (on a week day!!). When I got home Kristie had got so caught up in cleaning the house, doing laundry (which I was, am, and will always be grateful for), and going through that stack of papers that I some how forgot about, that she completely forgot about the delicious meal that we had both been talking about making for days. Oh well. At least the house was clean right? So what are we going to do for dinner???

We got in the car and began driving down I-20 towards the mall. Kristie had the Garmin in the passenger’s seat and began searching for places to eat. We play this game of asking, “What do you not want for dinner?” Not mexican, not a deli, not even dinner. Ugh, we’re both just hungry and I cannot think of what I wanted to eat. Maybe we could grab a bite at…

That’s when I saw the lights flashing.

Not the lights of a silver Dodge Charger, but the lights of a white 15 passenger work van in my side mirror. He was swerving in and out of traffic and hitting the perfectly paved bumps of the South Carolina Interstate so hard his headlights looked like they were flashing as he hit one bump after the other. I had a semi behind me, a sedan in front of me, and a car in the lane beside me.

I knew this was going to be bad.

As he approached the car beside me… hold on, as he nearly ran into the car beside me he abruptly applied his brakes and swerved behind me. Headlights flashing he wanted me to slide over, but there was a car beside me and one in front of me… AND WE WERE ALL GOING THE SAME SPEED. All except this lunatic in the Indy-Car inspired work van. Needless to say Kristie freaked out, and I needed to get out of this guy’s (or girl’s) way. We were able to slide over, at which time the van tried to bully the sedan out of his way.

I use to have an aggressive bit of road rage

but now I have a cell phone. Go ahead jerk, bully your way in and out of traffic in your blatantly obvious white Ford E-250 work van with a South Carolina permanent tag # _______. Yes I had the tag number and yes I was quickly in touch with a highway patrol officer giving a detailed description of the van, mile marker, and that he took I-126. Now I don’t have road rage, because I know someone else could take care of the problem.

Moving on Kristie and I decided to opt out of a real dinner and go for breakfast. There is this 24 hr breakfast place on close to the mall that looks like something out of the 50′s.

Only moments after walking in you could sense tension. Exhausted from the day, we took our seats to enjoy supper at a nearly 9 at night. To gain some perspective you need to know that Kristie and I sat on the same side of the booth and yes we are “that couple”.

Before our waitress could bring our water both of saw what looked liked a really cute 12-18 month old boy eating dinner with his seemingly frustrated father. The boy had food all over his face and looked like he’d been playing in his food. Maybe dad was upset that more food was on the baby than in the baby, I don’t know. Kristie and I have a ton of friends that are pregnick right now and we have talked about when we will have our own little one (it will not be anytime soon). Of course Kristie is looking at the little boy and I’m looking at the menu.

What happened next infuriated me and Kristie to a level which is borderline explosive.

I heard a man cursing at the top of his lungs. I looked up and the man had grabbed the little boy, slung him into a different seat and was within an inch of his face screaming and cussing at him. At this the little boy began to scream and cry. He was terrified. The man continued to scream “Stop your crying! Why can’t you just stop with all your…”

My blood pressure peaked. How could you scream at a child!? Much less at 9pm?! I knew that if I didn’t get me and Kristie out of that restaurant that someone would be leaving in an ambulance and I was not going to let it be that little boy. The waitress apologized and we went to our car. From there I saw another waitress approach the man and walk away. It looked like they were taking care of the problem.

As Kristie and I vented and cried over what the future might hold for that little boy I felt convicted. I should have said something to the man, but he looked strung out on something. I should have contacted the manager immediately, but I wanted to make sure my wife was safe. I should have called the police and had the man thrown in prison.

I decided to call the restaurant and speak to the manager to follow-up with what had taken place and to see what had happened with the man and that little boy. It was not a fun conversation. When the manger said “I’m sorry you left. I’ve been told you and your wife left because the baby was crying so lou” I cut him off and explained.

“It wasn’t the baby’s crying. I completely understand that a baby cries. They laugh, they cry, they throw fits, they throw food, they spit up, but when a grown man uses force to try and intimidate a helpless child; when he curses at his son, when he grabs an 18 month old and throws him into a chair… I don’t have the tolerance for a man that ignorant, and maybe he needs someone to throw him around so that he’ll understand that his behavior won’t be tolerated. As an American you should exercise your right to refuse service to men of that character and have an officer escort him to jail.” I was fuming.

I can handle a lot of pressure and a lot of pain. You can talk behind my back, you can say hurtful things, and I’ll find a way to restrain my flesh and mouth and I’ll be able to move on later. But when someone abuses a child, much less in front of me… I can’t handle that. It stirs up something in my core. There is no fuse, only ignition. And it’s not just me, I’m reminded of the passage:

“If anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around his neck.” – Jesus

I get the feeling this wasn’t said with a smile and a halo. In this verse, I see the lamb of God for the child, but a mighty lion for the guilty party. A lion that would destroy his adversary without mercy. There are lines that get crossed where the focus that was once on grace and mercy changes to one of the ferocious, brutality of the lion. It’s when the primary focus becomes the safety of an innocent child and the feelings and well-being of the abuser is secondary.

Christ wouldn’t have allowed this. I’m not quite sure what he would have done in this situation. As a matter of fact, I don’t think he would have had the chance to do anything because Peter would have jumped over the table. Some days I’m more like Peter.

I think Jesus enjoyed the simple and pure things in life like the laugh of a child, the beauty of creation, and the comfort of good friends. But my Jesus loves people. Not just the people who love Him, but all people. And not this fictional, cheap love, but genuine love for each and every person. And I think Jesus has favorites, those that know Him and that He knows, and those that are innocent because they haven’t had the chance to get to know him.

Kristie and I eventually ended up at IHOP, only a mile or so away from our house. Four pots of coffee later K.B. and I finally settled. I still wonder what life has in store for that little boy. Will he end up like the man sitting beside him, or will he end up like his real Father above? And what should I have done differently? Or did I do what I needed to do? Was it enough?

I hope that people will reach out to those that are hurting. Not just those that suffer the ins and outs of a normal day, but those that come from abuse and neglect. Those who haven’t had a dad that tries to live the example of the Father. Those who have never known the love of Christ to be shown through another person.

As followers of Christ there are three things that are required from us daily:

And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

Grace and Power,

Hank