|
|
CUPS OF COFFEE Forgive Your Enemies A game of keep-away, a collision for the ball, a tussle, one boy thrown out of the gym, all the ingredients needed for a school boy war. The Cast Out, his older brother, his father and his brother-in-law plan an ambush to even things up. The brother-in-law drops the attackers off at the bridge where they can hide, then drives down to the corner where he can park out of sight. That's the trap this naïve young teenager walked into one fall afternoon. In past issues, I've been promising to tell how the Lord blessed me by giving me proven "enemies" to love and hold up in prayer. But on September 11th an attack of hate of such magnitude was launched against our country that it caused me to reconsider the definition of the word. Did it really apply to my little scrapes with the adversaries of my past. I went to my Webster, "enemy: a person who hates another, and wishes and tries to injure him; a foe". Yes, my enemies of the past, small as they were, fit the definition. They certainly hated me enough that afternoon to beat me with bandannas filled with rocks, and then threaten my life. Fortunately, friends showed up in time to limit the harm to a bashed head and shattered teeth. My dad met with their father. I learned that the boys had gone to their dad and told him of the gym incident, and that he planned the ambush. Even though this seemed acceptable behavior in the rural southern community where Mr. Smith grew up, he admitted that his boys went too far in their passion to get even. He offered to pay the dental bills and brought Jim and Sammy in to apologize to my dad. When my attackers returned to school, they were subjected to all sorts of hostility and ridicule by the students. At first I was pleased, someone should pay for my shattered teeth and my toothless smile. But after a couple of days of this, I began to feel differently and even began to feel sorry for them! My mind was puzzled. This change in heart began in shop class, where conversation was allowed as long as you were working on your project. Jim's workbench was just a few feet from mine. He had been taking plenty of heat from the guys. Mostly Jim said nothing in return, kept his eyes on his work as his face flushed with the emotion he was feeling. Once in a while he would mumble something about how unfair it was that Sammy had been thrown out of the gym, and Shrout got to stay. In the midst of this harassment, I walked over and extended my hand to him. He was astonished but accepted my grasp. I don't remember my words, but I endeavored to tell him that the Bible teaches forgiveness and that I wanted to put this behind us. He was speechless for a bit, but stumbling around he finally said some words of appreciation. The exchange between us was very brief but had sufficient effect. The shop was a very quiet place for the balance of the class period. Jim, Sammy and I did not become 'fast friends' but at least we spoke in passing and all the peer heat appeared to diminish to nothing. I was amazed to discover how good I felt about my overture to Jim and the realization that I had come up with the courage to refer to the Bible. I even felt that the shop guys now treated me with an additional measure of respect. Nobody razzed me for taking a Christian stand! God had dealt with my timid nature and directed me to an avenue of witnessing. As tensions relaxed Jim and Sam both came to me, one at a time, and apologized. Their sincerity was obvious. Jim worked evenings in a local defense plant and I was into athletics, so our paths seldom crossed outside of school. In a few years we graduated and lost track of each other. Sammy, as I remember, enlisted in the Navy. I don't recall ever seeing Sammy again, but I did run into Jim at some function a few years later. We found ourselves with a moment alone. Jim told me that for some time he had been wanting to thank me for how I had handled that school day incident. "It helped me see Christianity differently", he said. He went on to tell me that he had given his life to the Lord, and that he and his wife were attending church and both teaching Sunday School classes. His countenance radiated appreciation. I took his hand and assured him that I couldn't be happier to know him as a friend in Christ. That night, as I lay on my pillow, I thanked God for teaching me His grace. I pondered the wonder of it all and fell asleep. Years later, Jim's name came up in a Scout's executive meeting and I learned that he was now the Sunday School superintendent at his church. Not only was Jim staying the course and serving his Lord, but God had let me participate in his recruitment. Awesome! Not only does a seed grow and bear fruit; the cycle of reproduction is never ending. Several years later while in my mid-thirties, as an industrial engineer, I was assigned to do a process analysis study on a particular machine. I made my way out into the plant to get acquainted with the machine and its operator. I was more than dumb-founded to discover that the operator was none other than Jim's father! The man who not only planned that school-boy ambush and attack, but who later got in trouble with the law by running off with a teenage girl. How in the world was I going to handle this. Maybe he won't remember me. I put on my best professional smile, "Good morning Mr. Smith", and proceeded to explain the nature of my visit. "Gene Shrout", he responded, "I've been wanting to talk to you for a long time. I'm so sorry", he continued, "for the grief I caused you when you were a boy. I was a very nasty person in those days." Shocked and tongue-tied I managed to mutter something about all that being forgiven and forgotten. He went on to tell me how he had watched his son Jim's life, and how eventually he been attracted to church. "I want you to know", he said, "that the Lord has forgiven me for all that trash in my life and I've given my heart to Him. I need to ask you for forgiveness", he added. What a way to begin an operation analysis study! Time belongs to the Lord. This lesson on the fruits of forgiving your enemies was twenty years in unfolding. You would have thought that the elements of its dynamics would forever endure in my mind. But they didn't. Some years later I would find myself dealing with another "enemy", striking out on my own understanding and strength in the fervor of battle. But that's another story and perhaps I can share it with you next month. God has allowed me to live through a few dramatic lessons on being His witness to my enemy. How about you, do you have an experience to share? GS 10/17/01 If you would like to drop a note to offer feedback or ask questions, you can contact him at Gene Shrout |
Copyright ©2001 Gene Shrout. All rights reserved.