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THE BITTER TASTE When last we were together, I shared with you about the ambush of this young teenager by two angry brothers, how they attacked him using rock filled bandannas as black jacks. He was knocked senseless by a blow to the side of his head and then while he was down, he was struck him in the mouth with a rock filled fist, breaking one tooth off and fracturing several others. I told how his life was then threatened, how a gang of friends arrived just in time to intervene. The bandaged head was kind of a badge of honor when I returned to school. But the black gap of the missing front tooth was a real embarrassment. I remember practicing in front of a mirror, trying to learn to grin without opening my mouth. It was a real downer. I couldn't accomplish anything but a silly smirk. I became angry that someone would do this to me. Well after I had recovered from my physical injuries, it was obvious that periods of depression were altering my personality. I became more and more withdrawn. The process of getting a partial plate to fill that toothless gap became a long and time consuming process. The root of the broken tooth had to be dug out. I can still remember the chiseling and prying. Then the doc wanted the gums to heal before taking impressions. He wasn't sure but what I would lose the other front tooth, which I eventually did. So we gave that a little time and took more x-rays. I was into the second half of my high school junior year before I had teeth to smile again, and by then I had almost forgotten how. Oft times, we expect the Lord to protect us from such as this. We oft have no thoughts about the "growing pain" required for the maturity we wish. Little did I realize that the Lord allowed this horrible incident as a learning experience on the subject of witnessing. That anyone should dislike me enough to attack me like this was a shock! The realization left me with a bitter taste. When retired from the need of earning a living, and sitting on the edge of antiquity, we, of course, have more time to reflect on the incidents in our past. And further, we have the panorama of the life we have experienced, since those fleeting moments, to overlay the darkness of that "happening". In reflective repose, when the pain is long in the past, we are able to come to the realization that a loving God was always in control. Three decades later in the midst of another dark hour, I penned these words: THE BITTER CUP I wonder as I linger here in midst of all my woe, The meaning of my Savior's words that night so long ago. In midst of dark Gethsemane, that hillside far away, He threw Himself before our God, His words still live today. He asked if there would be no way but drink the bitter cup; Was it for Him, was it for them, this prayer was lifted up. He knew the pain of troubled hearts when hope would disappear, When all the world they knew thus far would pierce them like a spear. Would rack their frames with mortal grief and fell them to the ground; Was that the cup, the bitter cup, in which all dreams must drown. To crush a world…to save a world, is that the reason why He walked that weary, lonely mile and gave His life to die? They scattered on that lonely night to taste of bitter wine, To wonder at their broken world, what pieces they could find. But like the seed that's laid to rest in wait for rain above, Their Master blossomed with new life, the glory of God's love. He touched their broken shattered worlds, His touch of peace and power, To make them mighty in His cause, yet each a lovely flower. I wonder as I linger here in midst of all this woe, The meaning of my Savior's words that night so long ago, And wonder must I drink this bitter cup before me now? Oh please, Oh God, give me strength and guidance of just how. Since giving my life to the Lord at age ten, I had struggled with being a witness for Him as instructed in the scriptures. When God miraculously extracted me from the clutches of the river that took Vernon's life, I was left with an assurance that I belonged to Him and He cared for me. I was determined to both serve Him and somehow makeup for Vernon's lost life. But, I just couldn't find a way through my shyness to be that witness to others. Because the ambush and attack took place on my way home for school, Jim and Sammy were suspended from school for a few days. When they returned to school, they were the objects of all sorts of verbal hostility and ridicule by the students. In most of the school classes there was little opportunity for remarks, as conversation was tightly controlled. But the hallways between classes were a different story, Jim and Sammy were taking considerable heat. In our shop class where there was ample opportunity for remarks and jabs, Jim was getting plenty of flack. My enemies were being verbally pummeled. At first it felt good. I was being vindicated! But as the onslaught continued into the second day, the Lord began to do a work in my heart. I no longer found relish in the harassment of my "enemies". I even began to feel empathy for them. I was puzzled. It seems I'm never aware when the Lord is teaching me; the fact only dawns well after the storm has passed. In the next issue of Cups Of Coffee I will share how the Lord taught me to love my enemies how He blessed my heart and showed to me the joy of serving Him by giving me enemies to love. Email Gene The Author of CUPS OF COFFE |
Copyright ©2001 Gene Shrout. All rights reserved.