Wounded in the House of My Friends

By Patrick Hawthorne

sad If they could look into my heart, they would see the scars.  “What scars,” you ask?  The scars received at the hands of my brothers and sisters in Christ.  The scars placed one by one by those who speak and teach of love, yet whose actions are careless and void of compassion.

“I stand before you,” I cry, “Yet you do not see me.”

They walk over me. The pain from their foot prints is excruciating.  I’m good enough for the menial tasks, yet ignored for the greater.  Why?  Is it because I’m not handsome enough, popular enough, rich enough, or young enough?

They pass over me in order to bring in their friends.  I have faithfully served.  Yet, my service goes unnoticed.  Still, I continue to serve because they scold and warn that service is not onto man, but unto God!  To that they speak the truth, but not the truth in love.

Their eyes roam.  They say they are looking for those called by God, yet they trample the David’s in order to get to his brothers.  They cast aside the old in order to bring in the new.

“You have worn me down,” I sigh.

I want to stay down, yet my Lord forbids me.  “Get up,” He commands!  “You are who I say you are; be not swayed by their blind eyes and condescending ways. I will open the doors that need to be opened and shut them that need shutting.  Where I place you, man cannot remove.”

“But, Lord,” I whine.  “How do you handle the pain and the rejection?

“You love them my son…you love them.”

My brethren, do not hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, with partiality. For if there should come into your assembly a man with gold rings, in fine apparel, and there should also come in a poor man in filthy clothes, and you pay attention to the one wearing the fine clothes and say to him, “You sit here in a good place,” and say to the poor man, “You stand there,” or, “Sit here at my footstool,”  have you not shown partiality among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts? (James 2:1-4)

 

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Posted in Christian, writing

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