I like being right. You like being right. We do. Being right is good. Being right is our friend.
I know – right?
We modestly say things like, “Well-l-l, I could be wrong, but . . .” Translated, that usually means, “If your insignificant mind had even a Dixie cup full of the truly amazing mental acuity of THIS stunning jewel of God’s favorite grey matter . . .”
Our choices. Mine. Yours. Neither of us let go of them without a compelling reason. It makes sense, then, to establish them carefully from the beginning. That always works better than to raze them at a later time and be forced to sift through the rubble and rebuild.
Two statements from Proverbs 13 stand out:
- Become wise by walking with the wise . . . (v. 20a)
- An appetite for good brings much satisfaction . . . (v. 25a)
I can’t stand food-puking, buzzy, irritating flies. I have swatters strategically placed around our home, and even on the patio. Big, black sucker. Black Flag brand. Extreme bad news for bugs. Big, green grasshoppers run. Cicadas get irritated. Always smack them twice.
It’s impossible to coexist with flies. They hog your attention, even if alone–which, by the way, they are not for long. Oh, for awhile you might get by trying to ignore a buzzering, disgusting fly but you can’t keep it up. Fly won’t let you. Fly invites his people”
“Human attempting to ignore flydom rep. Alert! Alert!”
You know the answer. KILL IT. Stop trying to understand it, get along with it, coexist with it, learn more about it, wish it “Namaste” or sit singing songs to it.
Don’t want flies in your way? Kill them.
As a young man I was greatly influenced by former UN Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjold. He once wrote, “He who wants a tidy garden doesn’t reserve a plot for weeds.” That stuck with me.
He who wants a tidy garden doesn’t reserve a plot for weeds.
While thinking and praying about this in the wee hours of today, I asked myself again:
- You let down your guard some and left some flies buzzing around that once you’d have never let stay there?
- Got a little corner of your personal garden, back behind the cannas and elephant ears, where you secretly raise a few choice weeds now and then?
The nature of weeds and flies is that they need no encouragement, and they don’t stay by themselves. They always outgrow wherever you try to control ’em.
There is a difference between mature tolerance and careless acceptance. I’ve done them both.
“Okay. Now, we all know you only gave us the first part of those verses, right? Wanna drop the other flip-flop?”
Aw, I thought you’d never ask. Sure thing!
“. . . hang out with fools and watch your life fall to pieces” (v. 20b).
“. . . but the belly of the wicked always wants more” (v. 25b).
“A-ight. So you’re sayin’ we always have a choice in what we allow, and eventually allowing the wrong stuff winds up controlling us, not the other way around. That cover it?”
Couldn’t say it better m’self.
© D. Dean Boone, September 2014