The Indignant Truth

While attending church last weekend, our pastor shared an excerpt from the book of Mark that stuck with me:

“People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked
them.   When Jesus saw this, he was indignant.  He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” Mark 10: 13-14(NIV)

The passage stuck with me, not because of the children (that is a topic I will write about soon enough), but because of the word “indignant.” 

Indignant: Feeling characterized by or expressing strong displeasure at something
considered unjust, offensive, insulting or base.

In the Mark excerpt above, Jesus gets so indigent with the disciples because they have stopped the children from coming to him.  Jesus points out the significance of children and their importance to the kingdom of God.  The children are his cornerstone.  The children are his weak spot.  The children are his foundation. 

What in this world are we so passionate about that would cause us to be truly and justly indignant under any situation?  For many people the answer lies in family and friends.  When you harm those people closest to someone it digs into a deeper part of the human psychology than most understand.  Harm a mother’s child and you will see what I am talking about.  For others it’s money.  Money rules some lives and when it is at risk or played with you may see all socially-refined actions and thoughts go out the window.  To see this in action, consider the Enron scandal that changed the corporate America we see today.

As imperfect humans, we are susceptible to moments of rage and anger but how often do these coincide with truly indignant situations?  Most likely- not often; which makes me wonder what cornerstones we base our lives around that would cause such a heartfelt and immeasurable anger rather than foolish and situational annoyance or frustration.  For me, I hope that religion and my faith in the Lord would cause me to put a hard foot on the ground and not be swayed.  I hope this so much that I recently got a tattoo that says “Faith, Grace and Love”- 3 words that I remind myself daily to live by.  This does not mean I succeed daily and trust me- I don’t, but I want to remind myself of these cornerstones.  I also hope to be justly infuriated if someone intentionally hurts my friends and family.  My mother and her incredible personality drove me to be the independent woman I am today.  I am forever indebted to her, my sister, my brother and my close friends for the strength they have given and taught me during my 29 years of life.

As another day passes and I find myself angered over a spilled cup of coffee while I drive down I-25 on my way to work, or frustration overcomes me when dealing with a rude colleague, slow waiter or unforgiving friend I hope to reflect on the difference between situational anger and being truly indignant.

As the saying goes: If you don’t stand for something you’ll fall for anything. 
What do you stand for- what are your indignant truths?

The Unforgettable Situation

On Saturday morning, March 5^th 2011, I woke up with the sun; much earlier than normal for a Saturday.  After the reality set in that I was not going to fall back asleep, I contemplated where to take my morning run.  Typically a run on the treadmill would be preferred but a brisk morning tempted me that day and ultimately that’s what I chose. 

On a caffeine-free high, I set off down my apartment stairs; passing the windows and doors of sound-asleep neighbors.  I live downtown Denver, about one block off a main street that serves as the entry-and-exit to city life.  After a deep breath of morning air I took off toward that main passageway; oblivious to the life-changing event about to happen. 

Turning the corner, I passed the regular bus stop but this time was different.  Yes, there was a homeless man bundled up but that was not out of the ordinary.  This time he wasn’t asking for money, he wasn’t sipping from a flask and he definitely was not an average lost soul. 

“Good morning” was all I could get out as I jogged past the man with tears in my eyes- his eyes caught mine and something spoke to me.  I got no more than 10 steps pass that bus stop, turned around and headed straight back toward the trembling and frost-bitten homeless man. 

“Sir, can I get you a cup of hot coffee or something- something to warm you up?”

“Oh yes, please” the man slowly and unsteadily spoke.  I took off running again, but this time back toward my apartment complex where I knew they had hot coffee and tea in the lobby.  Quickly, I poured 2 cups; one hot tea and one hot coffee.  I shoved a couple cream and sugars in my jacket and off I went. 

A few steps outside the apartment door I could see the man trying to stand as a bus passed by without any attempt to stop.  He tried to scream angry words at the bus but all I heard was a mix of fury, frustration and tears and then saw him collapse to the ground. 

I rounded the corner and began hugging the man as he lied on the ground.  Rubbing his back furiously, I explained that we needed to get his blood flowing.  At this point, I had recalled the temperatures falling into the teens overnight and my heart sympathized with what this middle-aged, scruffy-faced man must have gone through during the last 12 hours. 

“I don’t want to die” the man cried from all fours on the ground, “I don’t want to die!”  His words were slurred but the message was clear.

“Sir, I won’t let you die,” I confirmed.  “Now, what’s your name- My name is Stacy.”

“I am Robert,” he responded.

“Ok Robert, I am not going to let you die- that I can promise.  I am going to stay here with you as long as you need.  Don’t focus on standing up yet, let’s get your blood flowing and slowly drink this coffee,” I tried to confidently advise the man.  But what did I know?  I’m a sales girl who likes to run- not a nurse ready to handle frost-bitten homeless men.  But he did as I asked and tried to speak words; which became clearer and sensible and his blood started to flow and the coffee disappeared.

Robert began to tell me his story as time passed and I was able to sit him up on the bench next to me.  He talked about his time in the Gulf War, showed me a scar that ran its way from one earlobe to the next, told me a heartbreaking story about his mother ripping off his dog tags after the war because it had “damaged” him and then he led me to that moment: pointed to the ground he called home the night before and explained that he was trying to catch the #6 bus to visit his dad in the nursing home where it was warm.

“Here.. try some tea now that the coffee is gone,” I recommended as I placed the Tazo Tea bag in the hot water.  Just as he started to take the first sip, I noticed something very odd.  A fire truck- lights and all- headed straight towards us.  It slowed to a stop less than 10 feet from where we were sitting.

“Oh no- this is not happening!  If someone called the cops thinking this homeless man was hurting me or should be arrested for something- I am going to freak out.  This cannot be happening,” were the thoughts that rushed through my head as 5 or 6 firemen jumped out of the truck and headed towards us.  Immediately we were separated and they began to question Robert about what was happening.

“Ms. Stacy saved my life!” he screamed joyfully.  “I was freezing and shaking but look- Ms. Stacy gave me coffee and tea- she saved my life!”

Right then, an ambulance and police car pulled up a back street and parked.  Robert was being asked to walk in a straight line, give his full name and date of birth.  He appeared to know the police officer and a couple of the firemen but the routine was all-to-unfamiliar for me.

Right then, one of the firemen pulled me aside to warn against “taking care of all homeless people around here.”  I explained the situation and he confirmed that Robert was known to be a good-guy around town but carries knives with him that I should be aware of.  I asked about the shelter situation and why Robert would not have headed there for warmth.  Robert overheard and the defenses came up: “They steal your things, they sell drugs there” he explained.  The officers agreed and said that he was probably doing the best he could since they had never known Robert to drink or abuse drugs.

“I will stay with Robert until the #6 bus comes,” I told the officers and they packed up their gear after Robert declined a hospital visit. 

And then something struck me- a kind of peaceful quietness that words cannot explained.  Robert and I sat on the bench side-by-side as I rubbed his back.

“Robert- I bet you can’t guess what today is.”

“Ms. Stacy- it’s your birthday isn’t it?”

“Yes Robert, yes it is.” I answered as the #6 bus pulled up, he got on and waved good bye from the window.

Happily Ever After- Really?

Heaven descended upon the tabloids this week when Arnold Schwarzenegger opened up about his “love child” with the housekeeper of his California home; the home he shared with wife Maria Shriver and their three children.  This story comes on the heels of controversies like Tiger Woods and his countless mistresses, Jesse James cheating on America’s Sweetheart Sandra Bullock, and Mel Gibson’s rage toward former girlfriend Oksana Grigorieva.  These high-profile actors are unfortunately, no different than the everyday people we surround ourselves with—we all fall susceptible to cheating, lust, anger and wandering from the moral code.  But where does that leave us?  Happily ever after—really?

The Sugarland song Happy Ending contains a line that has always rung loud in my head and my heart:
“It’s the reason for living,
it’s the reason the cage bird sings,
it’s why we see it in the movies,
all the way to the closing scenes. 
We’re all looking for a happy ending.”

As the press exploits the short-comings of human nature and the pain caused by it, how are we supposed to believe in happy endings?  The tabloids have me looking at my own world in a very grim nature these days.  I am a single, late-20s, professional woman who wants to find “the one” and believes (I think) in true love and destiny.  However, I find myself helping a friend go through a rough divorce because her ex-husband thought it was justified to hit her when she was pregnant and upset him. I have another friend who has gone missing after dating a man she met online. She has been missing for two weeks and the “boyfriend” has committed suicide- how do you see the silver lining in that story?

How does true love survive and does it really even exist?  I believe that love is a choice and a commitment.  That when you stand on an alter with that one special person, saying the words “for better or worse” and “I do” means that you will commit to love even when the “like” does not exist.  Now (disclaimer)… I have been called a dreamer and an optimist but the tides may be changing.  I have been on dates with strange men, lazy men, offbeat men and very attractive men; but it is a struggle to look at the scene and see a “Prince William and Kate” story rather than a “Jesse and Sandra” or “Arnold and Maria” story at the end of the plotline.  We go to movies and we go on dates expecting a happy ending, a conclusion and closure- not to be disappointed or hurt. 

So—coming full circle—is marriage and love all it’s cracked-up to be?  If so, then how do we explain the pain it causes, the suffocation of human desires and the struggle to commit to love during the rough patches?  And why do most humans still desire and search endlessly for love?  We have made Match.com and E-harmony millions upon millions of dollars over the years by believing and pursuing love.  Single people have been told to grocery shop on Friday and Saturday nights, join church clubs, alumni clubs and talk to strangers we find attractive at the coffee shop next door.  Are these tips foolish or another way of the world combatting the depression of bad marriages and bad relationships with an undying hope for true love?  I believe our world is witnessing a battle; a battle between the anticipation and confidence of a happy ending vs. the facts of tabloid stories and unfortunate news articles. 

God built our bodies and minds to believe in something greater than ourselves and maybe that is love…an unattainable but ever hopeful love.

“Love is just a word until it is proven to you.”
--Unknown