“Home sweet home!” I said sarcastically upon entering the motel room in which I was now residing. The place was old. Most of the furniture was straight out of the 1930’s. The bed might have been older. A mattress that had horse hair or feathers for padding and a creaky box spring that moaned under any weight. Musty smells of age-old carpets and wall paper whose flowered patterned now look wilted. There was nothing to recommend this motel except its cheap week to week price and the fact that a few months ago it had been a location shoot in the movie “Fletch” with Chevy Chase. The thing about that is we the paying residents had been evicted for 2 days and only allowed in after the shooting had wrapped around 9:00 PM each of those nights. And we certainly didn’t get a rebate on the rent or even autographed photos of the movie’s star, but the owners did. Chevy’s photo now hung proudly in the drab office where most of the scene’s were shot. And to add insult to injury, they were about to raise our rent because of this newly found star quality for this dump. Can you believe it?
I sure couldn’t. Sitting in the rickety chair near the door I knew there was no way I would be able to pay the extra ten bucks a week that was now about to be demanded of my ever-dwindling bank roll. I had not worked in a month. Ever since my so-called partner had fired me over an argument we had. I had cut back on my expenses. One meal of carrots a day for the last week, along with only one pack of cigarettes until yesterday now it was digging around for old butts to smoke. No bar time and stretching out a fifth of booze, now it was gone. My resources were tapped. If I could only get fronted an 8 ball of speed to sell, I could live on that. But there were no friends for a guy who was down and out. I was sure next week I would be living in my car. I thought, its not so bad I had done it before. Some panhandling and I would be fine. A fleeting thought, maybe I should pray. But with a shrug I shook it off.
As I sat contemplating, there was a knock on my door. Peeking through the ancient curtains I saw my partner, he was looking around as if he were afraid of being mugged. What did he want? Last thing I needed was for him to rub it in. Look how the mighty have fallen or something like that. Maybe I should just not answer it. Either way I opened the door and he came into the dank room. Sitting on the chair I had just vacated, he didn’t smile or have his usual smug attitude. In fact, he seemed…. What is the word? Humble. What the…?
All I could say was, “What’s up, Dave? What brings you to the Mormon capital of the world? Too boring up in Ogden?” He stuttered and said, “Listen, partner….” He must have seen the dark look on my face at the word partner. “John, man, I made a bad mistake.” Then silence. I knew what was coming and I wanted to gloat. Oh man, I wanted my revenge. He had come here hat in hand to ask me to come back to work. My mind went to all the things I could demand from him. Make him pay. Revenge was going to be sweet.
Revenge. I lived in a constant state of it most of my life. You just did not want to wrong me! If it was real or imagined on my part if you did something I perceived as a wrong, you went on my list. If it took hours, days or even years I would pay it back and hopefully double fold. I seemed to live for it. I remember the evil joy I would get making someone’s life miserable. So many hours wasted planning and scheming how it could be done. When I came to the Lord, he rooted out so many things, but this remained for more years than I would like to admit. I could not seem to surrender my need for revenge.
But our God is gracious. He is long suffering and forbears even with hard-hearted men like me. He knew I needed to be humbled in a way that was complete for me to see that there was nothing I could do to change events around me. The final months of illness of my wife did that.
There was a doctor who had been my wife’s physician for years. In the last year of her life, time after time he misdiagnosed her condition. Within three months of her death he just threw up his hands and made the unbelievable statement to my wife’s face, “You will probably not live to see Christmas and there is little anyone can do about that.” After he had blundered and bullied his way taking care of her. Now he added this insult to injury. I wanted to hurt him, I wanted revenge.
It was my dying wife who had been a partner in vengeance so many times in our marriage, who now born again in Jesus said, “I see the hate in your heart, John. You need to surrender that. If you do not, it will eat you alive.” Her acceptance and peace amazed me and over the months of being her caregiver, I found my heart changing also. God used this terrible trial to be one of saving grace for both of us.
The apostle Paul says this, “Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “Vengeance is mine; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary:
“If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” (Romans 12:19)
It took years for these verses to be real to me. To understand loving my enemy, real or perceived, will do more to change their lives than any torment I could imagine. Sharing the love of God with all is the results of a truly surrendered life. I am not there in total yet, but I know the path and pray it every day.
My partner was not so blessed. He did come to ask me to return and run a project in which the man he had taken on in my place had abandoned. I made him pay. I look back in embarrassment now. And unfortunately, it was not the last time. But by God’s grace I now seek to love and let God worry about His revenge. The heat of vengeance still flares in my heart but now I know I can surrender it to Him. I pray the same for you.
Blessings
John
1/14/19
