I have always believed that life is an experience filled with great ironies and conundrums that are calculated to test both your sense of self-importance and your willingness to conform to the great spiritual realities set in motion by our Creator. Accordingly, I often discover some of the absurdity in life by the caricatures of humanity, as drawn in the fertile imaginations of cartoonists.
One of the my favorite cartoonists is Joe Martin, creator of "Mister Boffo and his Wonder-Dog ‘Weederman’ ". On January 21, 2001, Mr. Martin drew a cartoon of Mr. Boffo’s attorney talking to him after a court appearance in which Mr. Boffo was convicted of an unnamed crime. The attorney said, "Well, there’s one nice thing about that. When a jury comes down with a unanimous verdict in that short a time, you don’t have to spend the next twenty years wondering ‘Why me?’!"
Prisons are filled with people who wonder, "Why me?" Churches are inhabited with people who wonder, "Why me?" Families are inundated with self-pity, wondering, "Why me?"
Indeed, why me?
In spite of our desires and expectations, life is not fair. Solomon said, "I again saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift and the battle is not to the warriors, and neither is bread to the wise nor wealth to the discerning nor favor to men of ability; for time and chance overtake them all" (Ecclesiastes 9:11). Our problem is NOT that life is not fair, but that we are too often looking for someone or some circumstance to take the blame for our failure to prepare for time and chance.
The fact of the matter is: Time passes and we get older. As we age, our systems slow and eventually shut down, and we are not able to do many of the things we once enjoyed. The doctor is not at fault because we are getting older, though she may be at fault because she is incompetent or is unwilling to listen to our medical complaints.
Still again, chance plays a large part in what we confront in life. None of us had a choice about who would be our parents. Some problems arise in life because of how we were raised or as a result of the gene-pool from which we were drawn. So what, if I had poor parents? Is that an excuse for my willful misbehavior? Who cares if my genes are not robust enough for the Olympics? Is it my fault that my inclinations are more toward the creative and artistic than toward the physical and scientific?
Maybe it is somewhat a matter of my environment: My own father died when I was just barely 11 years old, and I never learned how to drive a nail. Matter of fact, I don’t remember ever seeing my dad drive a nail, saw a board, or paint a wall. So what? Does that mean I cannot be trained, over time, to do the smallest tasks that will let me keep my home in good order?
Far too many people are blaming others or circumstances for all of the bad things that happen to them. Maybe people are mistreating you because of racial prejudice, but that is no excuse for your willful violation of law or for you to stay in the rut of poverty. Of course, you know that the only thing that separates a "rut" from a "grave" is that a "rut" is a "grave" with the ends knocked out. Is that what you are prepared to accept for your life?
Perhaps your mother was oppressive and your father non-existent, but that offers you no solace against the condemnation of homosexual conduct. It may be true that your teachers were incompetent or the preacher committed adultery, but you are an educable person who is not limited by the failings of others. You are created in the image and likeness of God, with all of the great worth of talent, insight, and capability that is necessary to take you wherever you want to go.
Maybe it is your attitude toward authority that is getting in your way. Many people just bristle whenever they are told something, as though the learning of it is somehow an insult to them. That’s why they stay ignorant throughout their lives. They struggle with the petty and mundane while the rest of the world is soaring to the heights of eagles.
Young people, especially, need to see themselves as others see them, with the ever-present "chip on the shoulder" and the sour look of disgust on their faces. It’s no wonder your teachers treat you as they do, since you have nothing but disdain for their efforts and their important place in what you will eventually be.
Maybe your attitude toward adversity is your problem. You know, I’ve seen people grapple with horrendous, debilitating disease, all the while maintaining a cheerful demeanor and commitment to the value of perseverance in life. And, I have seen people deal with a stumped toe with profanity, abuse and malice.
Several years ago, we rented our home to some people who were approved by the real estate management company. Eventually, we had to evict them for non-payment of rent, and when we arrived at the house to get it ready for new tenants, we were appalled at its deteriorated condition. Holes in the walls and doors, dirt and filth on every wall, and I won’t even mention how the bathrooms looked! What causes some people to live like dogs?
A few years before that, after the husband of a sister in Christ had tried to kill her, he then turned the gun on himself and died in the middle of the living room floor. Several Christians descended on the home following the Wednesday evening services to be greeted by a home that was filthy. It was not just messy (everybody’s home gets messy from time to time); I mean this home was filthy. So we all agreed to meet the next day and for however long was necessary, while the sister was in the hospital recuperating from her gunshot wound, to clean and paint the home. The job took several days.
At about 10 AM on Saturday, as several of us were ripping up a carpet that was blood-soaked (and that was the clean part of it), one of the deacons in the church started coughing, and eventually walked out the front door. Someone followed, asking if he was okay. He replied,
"You know, I love you people, and I love sister ______________, but I cannot stand this. People don’t have to live like this. There’s a TV in the corner of that room, and it is impossible to watch TV and not understand that people don’t have to live this way. I will help in any way I can, providing money for paint, carpet or lumber, but I refuse to work in this filth."
Some of us were taken aback, and some grumbled that they felt the same way. I’ll never forget what one older man, a former elder in the church, said. He said, "Ron’s right. This is not right. Now, let’s get back to work." And we did. We cleaned the blood-soaked wood floors, painted the walls, swept the roaches from the kitchen and bathroom, patched the holes in the walls, installed shelving in the closets and on the walls, repaired the front and back porches, put the garage door back on it’s tracks, purchased encyclopedias for the children to use in their education … and one month later, the house was exactly as we had found it on that dreadful Wednesday night. The roaches were back, the holes in the walls had reappeared, the shelving was torn down, the garbage was piled up and the walls had food splatter all over them. Truly, Ron was right.
Here’s the point: Sometimes the problem is not your parents. It is not your education or your race, nor is it your lack of experience or all the bad things that have happened to you in life. Sometimes, the problem is you. You. Only you. And, only you can deal with it and make your own life to be the glorious fruit of Divine blessing upon you.
~end~