December 7, 2010

A Rolling Stone

I had a pebble in my boot today. How does a pebble get in knee highs, anyhow? Especially mysterious is the fact I didn't feel said pebble until well after lunchtime. Where was it all morning?

Once that pesky rock made itself known, it harassed me all day. Stupid as this may be, I was mad at that rock by the end of the day! {Why didn't you just take your boot off and remove the pebble, genius? you may be thinking} Um, well, knee highs are... well...knee highs. Kind of a pain to take off, especially at work in front of everyone.

That little irritant trudged around with me through work and errands. A rolling stone gathers moss. Annoying pebbles gather sock fuzz. And grow. Jab. Poke. Kind of like...
{accusations} {assumptions} {off-handed comments}
{wounds} {sadness} {grudges} {hurt}
I could have removed that pebble. I could remove the above heart irritants as well. But sometimes I don't. Because...
{pride}
"Everyone will see me back down. I'll look weak."
"If I {forgive}{let go}{never mention it again}...he/she wins."

Truth is, my metaphorical pebble irritates me, not those with whom I'm offended. In the long run, I'm angrier, agitated, and limping through life. That's when I need to hear {obey} the voice of...

{humility}
"Forgiveness is notable, honorable and exudes great strength."
"Big whoop if he/she 'wins.' You're the real Eye of the Tiger if you forgive."

We received the sad news Elizabeth Edwards passed away today. Much can be said for her zeal for the United States, love for her family, and courageous battle against cancer. Yet this simple, profound, act is what I will remember most: John was by her side. I'm going to state the humanness here, okay? In our eyes, she had every right to refuse John the gift of her presence. The gift of saying what needed to be said (for his sake, not hers). The gift of comforting their children. No one would have blamed her. Yet, amazingly, Elizabeth had the courage, dignity, and humble grace to take her knee highs off and remove the pebble.

In light of all she endured

In light of all Christ endured

In light of what matters eternally...

I'm unzipping my knee highs. My pebble(s) has collected quite enough fuzz. How about yours?

And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them... ~Mark 11

And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. ~Matthew 6

8 comments:

Eileen said...

That is something the stuck out for me too when I heard the news of her death. It was nice to read that. You are right, she could have chose bitterness and anger and unforgivness, but she she didn't.

Carol Davis said...

There you go again, sweet friend. Challenging and inspiring me. Thank you. Got some pebbles I need to take care of myself.

Kandi said...

Great post Sam. When I heard of her death I thought of everything she had endured and her grace through it all. My prayer for today shall be, Father, make known to me today all the pebbles stuck in my boot, and give me the strength and humilty to remove them.

Fields of gold said...

Thanks for commenting y'all! I was so convicted by Elizabeth's humility and grace and realized my "pebbles" are much smaller than hers.

Praying for y'all as you spend time listening to His still small voice.

Unzipping my boots this moment... :)
Sam

Hannah said...

Sam,
I've been reading your blog ever since I saw a link to it from the rad revolution site. My dad is currently in a battle of never ending pain and not being able to eat. Last night he went to the ER with what might have been a bloodclot in his lung. PTL it was only inflammaition in his chest and should be gone in a week. Time to unzip my metphorical boots and check for pebbles.

Caroline said...

Beautiful, beautiful post. Convicting, yet encouraging. Thank you for sharing this lesson learned. Perfect verse from Mark 11 to share, too.

Fields of gold said...

@Hannah...how is your dad doing? Thanks for opening up and sharing. I pray the Lord met you in your moment of humbleness. Matchbox 20 has a song with these lyrics: "But I'm sorry now, and I don't know how, To get it back to good."

Sometimes there is so much between us and that place where things are "good" that it's hard to return. I hope you and your dad found "good" and it was sweet and refreshing!

Thanks again for sharing Hannah!

Fields of gold said...

@Caroline...thanks so much for your encouragement. It's a funny thing that when you write about something like this, God starts opening your eyes to see where all the "pebbles" are! That said, I'm quite convicted myself! :) I appreciate your thoughts! Have a great day friend ~ Sam