God Said "Stop It!"

...and Elijah said, "OK."

1 Kings 19 has become one of my favorite Old Testament readings. I know it's a little small-minded of me, but it comforts me when I see spiritual heavy hitters like Elijah struggling with their faith and obedience like the rest of us slobs.


I have to confess up front, though, that I have a bad (quirky?) habit of cartoonizing certain Bible stories, and this is one 'em. (Sorry, Elijah.) Maybe if you've never been marked for dead by an evil queen it's tough to imagine a tale like Elijah's as entirely "real" instead of something from a fractured fairytale.

I sort of imagine Mel Brooks as Elijah and Cloris Leachman as Jezebel. Maybe Jack Black as the angel, and Bill Cosby as God.

Can't you just see and hear Elijah (complete with Brooklyn Jewish/Yiddish accent) saying, "Enough; now, O LORD, take my life!" and then collapsing into sleep, only to wake up and find a chubby, zany angel staring down at him?

Poor Elijah. He goes back to sleep and wakes to find the angel still hanging around.  


Desperate to find safety and sanity, Elijah heads for the hills, only to hear the voice of God booming down on him and asking, "Elijah what are you doing?" 

I can just see Elijah's face, half scared to death and half annoyed, as he looks up to Heaven as if to say, "You're kidding, right?"

But it must have been quite a dilemma for Elijah. 


On the one hand, if a murderous queen has signed your death warrant, you're probably pretty relieved if God Almighty shows up to rescue you. Yet, at the same time, you'd be kinda miffed that God wasn't up-to-date on your drama and was asking you to fill Him in. 


Still, it's God...your hero...your only chance, so if you're Elijah you just start pouring your heart out about how you were running for your life in the wake of dead prophets who weren't half as faithful. 


Filled with the terror of his own drama, Elijah tried to play on God's sympathies crying, "I alone am left!" But God's answer...?  Well...in more contemporary terms...God just said...essentially...
"Stop it!" And Elijah must have been like, "Uhhh...what? What do you mean go climb a mountain???"  


But if you're Elijah, what are you gonna do?  


If God says go climb a mountain...you go climb a mountain...and then stand out in a fiery, windy earthquake. Nice. But then God has the nerve to question Elijah again! 


“What are you doing here, Elijah?” (translation..."Stop it!")


If I'm Elijah in this situation, I'm gonna lose it.  I'm gonna start mouthing off like, "What? Are you INSANE???  YOU sent me here!!!"  


But, bless his heart, Elijah tries to explain it to God one more time...with feeling. 


Elijah cries out to God, "I have been very zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts; for the sons of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars and killed Your prophets with the sword. And I alone am left; and they seek my life, to take it away.”  


In other words, "They're out to get me and I'm a sitting duck!"

But God, though patient and restrained, simply says, "Go, return on your way to the wilderness."  In other words...

"Stop it!"

S-T-O-P (new word) I-T

Elijah must have been so deflated, but from God's perspective the whole Jezebel situation was NBD...No. Big. Deal. And anyway, He had plans to use Elijah to forward His eternal agenda. Elijah's drama was insignificant by comparison. You don't read about God trying to comfort Elijah...do ya?

I think that's how it is with us too. We face a situation that threatens to wipe us out, but instead of getting to God quickly and approaching Him with the belief that he's already got us covered, we panic and fall off task. We run from our calling. We look too long at the situation and not long enough at Him, so we lose faith, and then finally lose courage.  

In His mercy, God just says, "Stop it!" and insists that we keep to our calling...doing His work to advance the kingdom...anointing and discipling those He has chosen to place in our path along the Way.

When God says, "Stop it," there's really only one answer..."OK."

Watching the Sky Today

I don't remember every detail of this day one year ago, but I remember the stunted breaths I was taking as I waited for the news that would come down, down like an anvil, on my heart...on many hearts.  


I remember the moment when I exhaled the tears of a profound sorrow on a long drive home. 

It was a crushing blow to the soul for the third time in less than 2 years.  But...mine "was not to reason why."

My long hug for an adopted sister will have to wait for its first warm delivery until I reach the gates of Heaven. E'en so, Lord Jesus, quickly come.

Somehow, I just know she will be right there to meet me, because somehow...in the passage from suffering to glory...Heaven has revealed every morsel of love to her that ever was hers...hers even when she didn't know it. 

Her every moment in eternity is love, and no doubt she worships the One who is Love...carrying my prayers to our Father...presenting them to Him like incense in golden bowls.

Learning to joy over the reality that she no longer needs my prayers...though I surely need hers...is   s  l  o  w   work. But I honor her beautiful freedom each day, as I kneel before the Lord and receive the new mercies with a grateful heart...trusting Him to help me recognize them.

And as I take those first steps out of bed each morning, even with a heart that cannot help wishing to be where she is...in Glory...I commit anew to Love.

I covenant again with the Father to feed His sheep, to love the outcasts, to let Him change me.

...to comfort the broken in heart and spirit...to reach out to the lost...to accept His sacrifice...to allow His healing...to welcome His ways...to walk fearlessly into the pits of darkness and rejection in order to love and serve the wounded...to enjoy being last...to suffer long with the downcast...to speak love to the angry...to stand bold against the lies of the enemy...and oh...oh...to ever care for and pray for her children and family...

all because of one precious, now eternally glorious, beautiful, beautiful bird.

And so I breathe and vow...

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

- Emily Dickinson

I watch the sky for falling manna...breadcrumbs of grace.

Read Choosing to See
Mary Beth Chapman's book about
her grief journey after the death of her
daughter.  Here's one of Mary Beth's
bread crumbs of grace.

Permission Slips

Steve Brown has a new book in circulation.  It's called, Three Free Sins. I haven't read it, or even purchased it yet, but I will do both soon enough. For now, it's enough to say I like the idea of 3 free sins. I may not cash in on 'em all, but I'll surely consider the offer once I read the terms!


There does seem to be a season breaking out among Christian writers and scholars...a season that seeks to help folks get out from under the burden of trying to be a "Good Christian" by achieving a some arbitrary level of sanctification judged by inner and outer legions of Simon Cowells. 

You really CANNOT live like that! It's soul death. Spiritual suicide. Social poison. Prison.


But I cannot help wondering about how often I dole out forged permission slips to myself (and anyone I feel led to "bless" with my generosity <insert my rolling eyes here>) in the name of Grace.


You know...kinda like this...

I, Anne Bosworth, give myself permission to:

• Be a total butt because I'm (choose all that apply) discontent, depressed, ill, unemployed, overworked, under-paid, under-valued, under-appreciated, PMS-ing, mourning, moving, entitled by Steve Brown's book, free in Christ, incapable of perfection, breathing, only human, a sinner saved by grace, ME, wounded, abused, healing, confused, misguided, misunderstood, unfortunate, broke, broken, the product of alcoholic parents, incapable of anything better, unschooled, unchurched, unloved, in transition, living as an alien prisoner... (you get the idea)

• Only love and act kindly toward people I like today because (see above, add reasons as you are led)

• Justify my bad behavior because (just stick in any reason since it's all about you, choose from the reasons above, whatever) and because I just feel like it.

• Basically do whatever the heck I want without question, or accountability, or guff from (insert names of people, organizations, or government agencies here)

I could go on longer, but I think the point has generally been made. And it's not that I'm wanting to speak back to anyone out there who is preaching, teaching, advocating, or otherwise pleading for more grace in this world (for ourselves and others).  NOTHING could be further from the truth!


My problem is really with ME, and my arbitrariness...my sliding scale of sin tolerance...my Plank & Speck mentality. At what point do even my best reasons for being...well...a jerk warrant a revoked permission slip, and maybe even a serious dope slap?

I mean, at what point have I gone overboard on being generous and patient with myself and stepped into the matrix of dangerous narcissism? How many people am I allowed to offend, hurt, disappoint, betray, ignore, reject, abandon, dump on, abuse, walk over, stomp on, etc before it's my job to belly up to the responsibility bar and just...just...

STOP IT!

Grace is good!  Grace is really, Really, REALLY, REALLY GOOD!!!  I want grace.  I need grace. I feel very much compelled and commanded to demonstrate grace early and often to as many folks as come my way in search of it...and maybe even people beyond that. I'm not suggesting that any of us should give up on giving (or receiving) grace. 


No. No! No!! NO!!! Warning! Warning! Danger, Will Robinson!!!

Of course we need to cut ourselves and others some slack.  This life ain't easy, and we sometimes fall apart as part of God's remodeling process at work in us. He tears us down to build us back up and make us stronger. For sure! Definitely! 

And undoubtedly some of that tearing down comes by way of letting us head plant into sin. I get that! I've been that...as recently as 5 minutes ago!

But seriously...if I know I'm making a steady diet of spiritual Goober and Raisinets, or if I know that I'm convincing myself that it's actually a healthy, gracious diet of nuts and raisins...I mean...c'mon...really?

Surely there comes a point when I'm responsible for going Linda Richman on myself, realizing that I have schpilkas in my ginechtigazoink. I need to give myself a topic to tawk amongst myself. Discuss...

Goobers...Raisinets...they're neither healthy nor gracious...they're deer shit!

What I mean is that it's pretty lame (not to mention dangerous) to let the freedom I have to sin, or the weakness of my flesh, or the downright selfishness of my heart pose as grace incognito. It's bogus, and I know it.  I'm thinking ya can't use your "free sins" for that crap.

If I'm hurting people recklessly and I know it...I'm responsible for getting humble and making it right. If someone asks for me for grace, or help, or forgiveness and I'm withholding it...YIKES!

I really do hit rock bottom emotionally sometimes. People really do clean my clock with their needs, mistakes, sins, stuff, and betrayals. I truly need an injury timeout to get quiet and seek God for healing. But I have to do it...purposefully, actively.

And it's not an indefinite thing, or like I get to pull a mom card and go all "Because I said so!" on folks who ask me what's up with my drama. Ewww! That's not seeking healing. That's kinda...well...rogue rage. Just sayin'...

And the TV timeout gig? The one where I take a break to sell myself on the idea that I'm entitled to be a butthead? 

I dunno. I've certainly taken in more than my share of those cheap spiritual ad campaigns, but...to be honest...

All those "TV Timeouts" ever did was delay the game...delay the grace...delay the growth...delay the giving...delay the receiving.  Again...just sayin'...

No Greater Gift

The wee lass and I were walking the ChiWeenie yesterday and my heart was heavy.  But even with the weight of sorrow wrapped around me like a winter stole, I was blessed.  


The encouragement! The wisdom and compassion that pours naturally from the lips of my baby girl! 


I wonder at times how she could possibly love me, and how she can be so patient with a mother who has spent the past 3 years in the Slough of Despond.  But she journeys with me with intention.  She's a "can do!" kid.

She thinks through, rehearses, and reinforces her faith alongside me. She's gentle and tenacious.  She never gives up.


So there I was walking with her, while carrying a little bag of ChiWeenie poop down the street to the trash can, and somehow we are having a conversation about honor, and John 15:13, which says, "Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends."  We talked about what it means to lay down your life.


When I became a Christian over 25 years ago, one of the odd, unexpected blessings that came with my faith has been seeing how the horrors of my past made a path for me to give my life away.  


By the time I was 25 years old, I'd survived a deadly illness, and many years of horrific physical, sexual, emotional and spiritual abuse. I had already died many, many times. 


There was a period of time, even well into my Christian walk, when those re-run deaths numbed me to everything, and so giving myself away was more like throwing myself away. What did I really care if someone treated me badly? Been there. Done that. Whatever. I just didn't care.  So I'd make airport runs and help people move, etc, the way some people take out the trash or flush the toilet. 


If someone wanted to come in and kill me, I'd have held the door for them.  It was that bad.


The fits and starts of my early Christian walk meant flirtations with selflessness, and practice rounds of giving my life away for God to use, but I'd often retreat and take cover if I sensed a measuring stick  (real or imagined) being used to quantify my faith by my works.


But something shifted when I saw that same brand of inner death, fear, and emptiness in the life of another Christian woman...someone whose troubles and issues seemed to have left her cast off and rejected by all but one beautiful, godly woman who laid down her life...again and again and again...without expectation.  


I'd never seen or known anyone who would so willingly, faithfully, and consistently walk into the vortex of physical and spiritual danger, fear, pain, suffering, sickness, and trouble of every kind for the sake of someone she loved who had virtually nothing to offer in return. 


Someone might argue that there was an inherent obligation, or an underlying selfishness at play, but I'm not buying it. Frankly, I've heard that kind of cynicism about Mother Teresa too, but gimme a frippin' break! 

There comes a point where the investments of obligation and self-interest stop paying any dividends that are high enough to warrant the sacrifice...otherwise everyone would care for the broken. This was the hand and heart of God hanging on and loving into the deep darkness of another woman's pain and sin.


So when my princess and I were walking and talking about what it means to lay down your life for a friend, I couldn't help remembering something a friend said to me the other day after hearing a little bit about a burden in my life.  


"You have to do what's good for you," she said.  And what she meant was, "Don't give your life if you're not going to get it back from the person you give it for."  


That didn't sit well with me.  In fact, it bugged me on and off through the weekend. So there I was, walking and talking to my child about love, honor, faithfulness, long-suffering, loyalty, and what it really means to give yourself away. 


I heard myself make something of a speech to my sweet girl (who is a beautiful listener, if you ever need a friend...just sayin').


Laying down your life for a friend isn't always taking a bullet and dying for your best buddy, your family, or your country...though it might be.  

But most of us aren't ever asked to do that, and we should be very grateful because that kind of sacrifice can't be undone. Lots of people are left very sad in life, for example, because their son or daughter, mother or father, sister or brother, friend or co-worker died in a war, or trying to save someone or something.  


There's honor in that, but there's a lot of pain...a whole lot of pain for a whole lot of people.  


But most of us aren't asked to lay down our lives in that way.  And laying down your life for a friend can sometimes be more difficult than dying if you do it and keep living.


"What do you mean?" my little darling asked.


When you lay down your life and die for anyone or anything, your suffering is over. People may even honor you for your efforts.  The ones left behind have to carry both the blessing of your honor and the suffering of your loss, but you, yourself, are safe.


Poop bag dropped off. Pooch walking continues. Brief assurance chat about the people we've lost recently who are in Heaven and safe. Mutual decision to skip any talk about the ones from our clan who likely faced the alternative. 


I said the verse from John again.


Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.


"So, how else do you lay down your life, and who gets the love?  I think it's both people," says my wise wonder-baby all in one breath.


To lay down your life is like taking all the things you want to do for yourself...your needs, your plans, your desires, your comfort, your fun, your time, your energy, lots of times your money, sometimes your reputation...probably your sleep...most if not all of what belongs to you...maybe a lot that you've worked for very hard, or looked forward to very much...and you put it down...sometimes not knowing if you will ever be able to pick it up again.


It's like laying your good life aside to do whatever you can to help someone else have their plans, their desires, their needs...all of those things I mentioned...first...before you...and maybe even better than you.  

And it's only real laying down your life if you don't want anything back for yourself. Although when it's for someone you love, you can't help wanting them to love you back.


"God's probably OK with that," said my confident girl.


Probably..but you sort of need to decide in advance that what you get doesn't figure into your decision. 


You have to decide in advance that you'll gladly accept the most disappointing outcome.  Your friend owes you nothing. Your friend can walk away full and leave you empty.  You have to decide that your fullness comes from God.


I choked up.  Her eyes filled in response...and then we wept...right there on the sidewalk with a ChiWeenie on the leash, we wept an open flood of tears.  


"That's really hard," she said. "But it's beautiful."

Quiet pause...

"That's exactly what <the name of someone we love> did for <the name of someone we love who died> for a long time. That's what we try to do for her now, so we're doing the Bible, kind of."  


Yes, Sweetie.  It sure is.  And we try to do the Bible.


But it's only because of what Jesus did for us.  We couldn't do anything good otherwise.


That's why he says it's not easy to follow Him...to follow Him for real you have to give yourself away so that he can use you...again and again and again.  And sometimes there's no reward here on earth.  It's super hard...and we don't always do it very well...even when we mean to do it great.


"Yea...but we should keep doing it, OK?  We have enough."


Yes...we have enough...


"When someone you love, your friend, goes through all that for someone else and gets all empty--like they are really sad and lonely and stuff, even if they have Jesus--someone should lay down their life for them because they did it for someone else. It's kinda the law. I mean you pretty much need to help and just do it..."  


Well...yes...I mean...that's certainly what God intended when He commanded us to love our neighbors as ourselves, but He probably made it a commandment because no one would ever do it otherwise.  


"But we don't need a commandment; we already want to do it out of love." 


For sure, my big-hearted sweetheart!  But remember...there are no guarantees.  You may end up very hurt and disappointed.  


Remember...there are no strings...you have to be prepared to walk away empty handed...maybe even betrayed.  It happens.


"Ya, and I so get that, but God already told me he's going to fix everything. Everything is going to get better soon. I promise. God really told me."


How did He tell you, Sweetie?  I need to know because it's my job to be wise and protect you and help you believe the right things.  You can get very, very empty when you give yourself away, and sometimes nothing gets full even though you tried so hard to do your part.


"But sometimes it just takes a while for people to realize they're full because they feel so empty. But when they realize they've been getting filled up and that you didn't mind, then they're glad with God and get happy. And they probably love you even without you asking."


Maybe, I said.  But don't plan on it, or it's almost like cheating.


"Don't argue with the 11 year old in your life," the wee lass scolded me.  "God told me, so it's not cheating, it's just like some granola to help us keep going. We can't stop now. I already know how it ends and we get the girl!"


She winks and flashes her cherub smile.  (Is it possible that I gave birth to an angel????)


And so the flood of tears carried us back to the house and in to make dinner. My princess flies over the rainbow.  Why then, oh why can't I?

My dog doesn't know

I just came home from a few hours of visiting with some friends down the road. With every return home since mid-February the drill has been the same: Open the front door and find a very excited 10 lb ChiWeenie (Chihuahua/Dachshund designer doggie rescued from the Humane Society) bouncing up and down with outrageous enthusiasm to see me.


The first 6 weeks with Crazy Daisy Chiquita Nachladen von Springen Frijole (Daisy, for short) were near hell.  She's the sweetest little dog, but let's just say that she came with several unexpected i$$ue$...and some of 'em really stunk...literally!  There were truly days when I pretty much hated her.  I wasn't proud of my feelings, but I couldn't ignore them either.


Daisy was consistently cheerful, and that was plenty irritating when I was carting my king size comforter to the coin laundry for the 3rd time in a week.  There were some days when just the sound of her cleaning her paws annoyed the crap outta me. I often climbed into bed wondering about the mental illness that was surely responsible for the lapse in judgment, which had led me to think I wanted a dog.

After spending obscene amounts of time washing sofa cushions and bed linens, and after finding that the evil ChiWeenie had figured out how to make crating her worse than doing 10,000 loads of laundry per week, and after spending crazy amounts of money on vet bills and separation anxiety solutions, we stumbled upon a $20 solution...3 blue plastic tarps...the kind you see on every other roof after hurricane season in Florida. 


The past 2-3 weeks have been fairly peaceful...unless you count an expensive residential mailbox drama from the day we were driving Miss Daisy and a friend's assistance dog in the same car.  But...other than that...much of the Daisy dilemma has been resolved...except for my strange ambivalence toward this very dear little doggie. 

Walking in the door tonight, and fresh from watching the unexpectedly emotional film, We Bought A Zoo, I had a little revelation.  I'd driven home crying, praying aloud to God about some grief and love in the life of our family.  As I came up my walkway and prepared to turn the key to the front door, I braced myself for the the Mexican/German jumping bean that would surely be waiting to bounce through the door.


No surprises.  The ChiWeenie was in full, joyful spring as I stepped inside and bent down to leash her for the last walk of the night. My eyes were still burning from the mascara that had run in as my tears had run out during my car ride home; my heart was still swollen from this most recent run-in with grief.  But Daisy was just happy to see me.  And that's when I realized something...


My little dog doesn't know that I've been crying and grieving for nearly three years.  She has no idea that anyone is missing in my life.  She's...happy.  She's just happy to see me.  It was tempting to resent her for being so cheery and so blissfully ignorant. Why did she even care that I was home?  I didn't.  


But there she was, completely unaware of my tears and sadness, just so happy that the one she loves...the one who makes her feel safe...the one God seems to have charged with her care...was home.  She'd made it through another day without being rejected or abandoned. She's thrilled to celebrate our reunion every time I walk through the door, whether I've been gone for 8 minutes or 8 hours.


I can't say that everything was suddenly resolved in my mind and all my griefs went away, but I realized the foolishness of holding Dasiy accountable for my pain.  I realized that God wasn't giving me an out because of her bad behavior.  Clearly, His plan is for me to care for this anxiety ridden little dog despite my grief...despite my waves of ambivalence and grief. 


Ya know...I really wasn't expecting a lesson in carrying on, tonight, but I guess I got one anyway.  

Love So Amazing, So Divine

Demands my soul...my life...my all.

We often forget that sorrow (suffering) and love are inseparable companions.  On the Cross, where Jesus shed His innocent blood for me...for you...the hymn writer says, "Sorrow and love flow mingled down."  But we have such a difficult time accepting the truth of that love, let alone comprehending its scope.

Sadly, the trouble we have in living our lives as though we believed in "love so amazing, so divine" spills over into virtually all other love relationships in our lives.  We grow irritable with people who suffer long with us amid our seasons of being unlovable. We itch at the thought that love makes demands upon our soul and our lives.  So we all too often choose less love, rather than more, when we need it the most.

I do it.  You do it.

But the truth is that if we knew how lavishly and devotedly we are loved, we wouldn't have the breath to utter even one complaint, or the thought to be ashamed, or to feel put upon by love. Instead, we would be completely enraptured (and rendered breathless) by the beauty of being truly cherished to the core...regardless of ourselves.

If we really take hold of the fact that we are loved beyond measure or understanding, our joy would be uncontainable...and contagious. The closer we come to the great "aha" of the love of Jesus, the the more impossible it becomes for us to be stuck in anger, unforgiveness, or to have unyielding spirits that are closed off to love.  The more we receive love, the more we become love generators.

So, try with all you can muster never to close yourself off from any love in this life. It is your taste of the divine...a portal into the infinite expanse of God's unfathomable love for you. It is your chance to participate in the distribution of His amazing love.

But you cannot distribute what you refuse to take in...and there's the rub.


Ephesians 3:14-19 is my prayer, today...for me...and for you.  The only real way to live in this life is to love in it...and the only way to love in it, is to live in His love.

¹⁴ When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father,¹⁵ the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth.¹⁶ I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. ¹⁷ Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. ¹⁸ And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. ¹⁹ May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.

Love so amazing, and so divine, may demand our soul, our, life, and our all...but none of those things really belongs to us anyway. So what's the point of becoming a miser (or a thief) when you cannot logically claim full ownership over yourself and still call yourself a Christian? 

And anyway, it takes far more energy and effort to cling to all we think belongs to us than it does to give it all away.  We've just become numb to our own exhaustion because that's what the pain of not loving and being loved does to us.  We become deaf to the truth of love (Jesus...true love) because we listen and converse with the lies of the darkness.


But here is the Truth; take it into your lungs...into your cells...

¹⁰ The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life (John 10:10, NLT).

Do with the truth as you will, but don't say that you have nothing...nothing left inside you, nothing left to offer anyone.  If you say such things, and believe them, it's like saying that you are unloved by the One whose love is incomprehensibly, breathtakingly enormous.  It is a denial of the Cross.  And these things I say to myself as much as, if not more than, to anyone else.

The Wonderful Cross

Fevered Thoughts

Fevers bring on some strange thoughts.  Once you cross the 101 mark, and the mercury keeps rising, even your brain starts to strip down to try and cool off! 


I spent 3 or 4 nights with my brain dressing and undressing while my thermometer rose, fell, and then spiked to wild heights. It was like some kind of cerebral overdrive effort to solve every problem that had ever passed through my neurological pathways.  


I "tweeted" my way through last night's episode.  Apparently I was thinking a lot about kindness.


I remember rolling over to get comfortable and thinking, "People are really much more comfortable with anger than with kindness. Why is that?" I'm not sure I came to THE answer in my febrile fidgeting, but some interesting ideas were transmitting there in the darkness.


One thing that came to mind was the way that anger tends to generate a bizarre sort of suspicion toward kindness...and I think so many people are really angry. People who are angry feel burdened by kindness...wondering what will be wanted or expected in return.


A person who is content is always glad and heartened to receive a kindness--great or small. 
People who are at peace with God, self, and others are just genuinely glad and grateful for kindness. 


Discontented people are afraid of being in debt. They don't want to owe anyone anything. They don't want their needs known because they don't want to be needed. Gratitude is a weight around the neck.


But people whose hearts are content don't think that way. Content people are good receivers. They like kindness because they aren't worried about motives, or debts, or mistakes. Content people have great stores of forgiveness and are satisfied from within. Their thoughts are fixed on good things.