The Righteous Man Whose Soul was Vexed

 Maybe you have experienced it too.

You find yourself in a place, surrounded by people who are the opposite of honest and trustworthy.

You are for peace, but they are for war.

They laugh at evil and trick others into joining them in their riotous ways.

"Riotous" behavior is opposite of "Righteous" behavior.

People compare modern cities to Sodom and Gomorrah, but I don't know of any place on earth as selfish, pleasure-seeking and cruel as the people in those cities where Lot and his family lived. None of us are without sin. -to a certain extent, we all live for ourselves. But these people lacked any feeling of care for their fellowman. Cruel and heartless! -not just a few people, but everyone in the whole area!

They laughed at Lot when he tried to warn them. "Who are you to judge us?" (Gen. 10:9) the men accused Lot. "You aren't even from around here!"

Ugh. -the outsider. -speaking a different language than the majority around hm. -when he speaks up, they say he is judging them. When he warns his sons-in-law, they laugh. Silly old man! What's he talking about?! Everything is fine. 

Did they honestly think that they were right? -these men of Sodom? Did they believe Lot was bad and they were good?

I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, to see things from their viewpoint. But theirs is a very disturbing view. I can't wrap my mind around it. The idea that tourists are fresh meat. Visitors to town are ripped from their beds and gang raped. Who does that?! 

So, Lot sat behind closed, locked doors.

Peter said that Lot's righteous soul was vexed.

 We have never experienced anything close to what Lot suffered. But I think we have all gotten a little taste of it. It's wearying, exhausting, discouraging. We try to explain our point of view, but everything we say just makes it worse. It's not that we feel more righteous than other people. We just prefer to live dull lives. It didn't take much to be more righteous than the citizens of Sodom and Gomorrah. God said He would spare the cities if He could find ten righteous people - He couldn't. 

It's okay to not be amused by cruel jokes and behaviors. It's okay to be kind to people others look down on. It's okay to feel sick and angry when you see someone hurting themselves, or someone else. It's okay to say no to dangerous habits that other people enjoy. You really don't have to fit in with all of the other people in Sodom and Gomorrah. 

Some people may feel threatened by your kindness and ridicule you. Some may mock and accuse you -trying to trip you up or find fault. (It's never hard to find fault with fallible humans. We ALL have short comings.)

But listen, don't feel like you have to stay there. Lot was scared to move to the mountains! He begged the angels to let him stay in a small, nearby city. I've often wondered what was up there in those hills that was so scary. If I was Lot, I think I would have left for the hills years before the angels' visit.

 So, if your soul is vexed too, maybe a visit to the mountains will refresh you and remind you that "wild" is sometimes healthier than "civilized." 

Sparing Ninevah

 He knew God.

    -knew that He was kind.

That's why he didn't want to go. 

Ninevah deserved the worst. They deserved punishment. The city was filled with wickedness. The opposite of a God-fearing nation. -evil and violent. A bully of a nation. Strong and powerful. 

Wouldn't it be great to sit and watch them finally get what was coming to them?

Vengeance belongs to the Lord! Do it God! Give them what they've been asking for!

He knew they would listen and be sorry - for a while. They would cry. -make promises...

Ugh!

God would give them another chance.

Which means: The bullies would get another chance to destroy the world!

Why did they love violence so much?

Give them a taste of their own medicine! 

Maybe, if he didn't warn them, they would be caught off-guard. No time to repent. 

So, he left. As far away from Ninevah as he could get. 

He ran.

He hid.

He ignored.

But God didn't see things the way Jonah saw them. God saw people who were ignorant and vulnerable.

He knew they weren't on top of the world -like everyone seemed to think they were. They were just humans, like you and me, and Jonah. People who could only see things one way and thought that they were in the right. People who had never stopped to think about what was right, or wrong; left, or right. 

How could it be possible for such a strong, powerful group of people to not know the difference between right and left? Surely some of them knew.

"Oh, they KNOW what they are doing is WRONG!"

 Suddenly, it is not Jonah talking, but me, and Ninevah is not the subject.

Do something, God! I will sit here and watch while you take them down.

But HE was done talking.

He was done when he said there were a lot of cows there.

What a strange way to end a conversation. 

I wasn't done.

This couldn't be right.

So, I sat and sulked in the sun, next to my wilted vine.

MY vine?

Why, yes, it was MINE!

I DESERVED shelter from the wind and shade from the sun! All of nature blesses those who are good. 

I looked, in disgust, at the city sprawled out before me. The sights, sounds and even smells violated my senses. 

Go home, Jonah!

Go back to your understanding of how the world should work.

If YOU were God, Jonah, the plant would have lived, and the people would have died!

Why is it so hard to have compassion on the bully?

 Bully? Oh, you mean, Jonah? The one who wanted a whole city to be destroyed.

 No, Jonah wasn't the bully. The king of Ninevah was. But that isn't told in this story. We don't see all of what was before. The images in Jonah's mind when God told him to go. All of the horrible things that Jonah would never be able to unsee or forget when he heard the word: Ninevah. And yet, here God was, not feeling sorry for Jonah. But feeling sorry for -THE BULLY!!!

We are Jonah. More willing to jump into the sea in the middle of a tsunami than to look in the eyes of the one we hate and see a human: made in the image of God. 

Lest you think this means we should allow ourselves to be abused, let me remind you why Jonah was sent: To warn Ninevah that God saw and knew everything they had been doing and was about to destroy them.

Running, hiding and ignoring are natural responses. Jonah wasn't so different from us. 

But God IS very different than us humans. 

He sees things we do not see. He is merciful, gracious and good. 

What if the group of people WE despise- that person, or nation, we wish God would take vengeance on- what if they have an untold story too? A story only God knows. If we knew their story, maybe we would be compassionate too. And maybe, instead of wishing for their demise, we would run to them with the GOOD NEWS!

The message found in Jonah 3 and John 3. The way to LIFE!

By Sarah Whitney 12/5/2024

Tiny Vicious Tiger

 They called it a "bomb cyclone."

    -the river in the sky.

-not really unusual for our area.

We prepared for a landslide and an electrical outage while listening to the rain pelting our tarped roof. 

The wind howled and a tree crashed somewhere in the forest.

Four little kittens snuggled close to their mama in the back bedroom.

But another cat was outside. 

When it got dark, and the puppy was asleep I would see her on the porch. Early in the morning she would be there again, her tummy sagging with milk. -begging me to give her food. She would peek inside, but was too skittish to come in. Her eyes wide with terror. 

"Where are your kittens?" I pleaded with her.

She followed me as I tore a piece of siding from our house.

I sat in the mud with a flashlight, trying to see through the insulation. -straining to hear a tiny mew.

Nothing.

The rain turned momentarily to huge fluffy snowballs dumping out of the sky. The soggy ground swallowed the snow as quickly as it fell.  

She stared at me from under the car.

Finally, she stepped towards the door and inside. She found a cubby hole in the laundry room and sat there. -looking at me- calm, regal. 

I listened and cleaned out the old tools, replacing the junk with a box of cozy rags. 

She approved. 

        -curled up and let me pet her -she almost purred.

"Bring them in here, mama. They will be safe."

The kittens in the back room had started to nibble on food and wobble around playfully. Surely her kittens were needing a warm, dry place to play.

"I will help you feed them." I whispered.

She was tired. Exhausted.

I propped the outside door open and shut the door to the rest of the house.

The next time we checked there was one little kitten in the box! 

He was friendly and sweet -white and dusty orange. 

"Good job mama!"

I softly shut the inside door.

It was cold outside, but the outside door must not shut, not until they were all in.

How many does she have? I wondered.

 A cute little tortoise-shell kitten was snuggled next to her brother the next time I checked.

We were in the kitchen when we saw the mama cat standing in the garage.

No wonder I couldn't find them under the house! 

I ran to the garage to see if I could help. There, in the box that I had set out weeks ago, was a tiny black and white kitten, alone and scared. I swooped her up and set her next to the other kittens. Three little kittens! Purrfect!

Mama cat couldn't rest though. She wandered back into the garage.

"I brought her in already." I explained. "Do you have another kitten out there?" 

She stared at me like I should know, but I didn't.

It rained all night.

The kittens were warm and snuggly. Their Mom asked to go outside, so I let her. The door was shut tight. She was a wandering cat. 

I took the puppy outside for a potty break sometime in the wee hours of the morning. 

We tried to find a sheltered place from the wind, next to the garage. I thought I heard a mew. I held my breath. 

Nothing.

"Kitty, kitty?"

...nothing.

Puppy didn't seem to notice. He wanted back in, so in we went.

All day Mama cat came in and out. She seemed happy. 

That night I heard it again.

I looked at the animals. Mama cat just looked at me; puppy played with a leaf and our older dog asked to go back inside.

"Is there another kitten?" I asked them. Surely, they would know. "Just because I'm human, doesn't mean I know everything!" I shouted into the rain. "Show me the kitten!" So, back into the kitchen we all went. Mama cat snuggled in with her 3 little kittens and puppy wriggled out a bit more energy before retiring to his crate. Old dog lay on his mat, tired of the rain and the wind.

The next morning wasn't quite as rainy, but it sure was cold. The cries were louder this time. I HAD heard a kitten! The other animals seemed unimpressed. I ran into the garage and picked up the box. Nothing.

"Mew-mew!"

"Hiss"

I looked under and around everything and finally sat on the cold, cement floor and peered under the lawn mower. 

A kitten!

It was a beautiful, orange tabby! He didn't seem a bit scared as he stood there staring at me.

"Come here, kitty." I coaxed and playfully wiggled my fingers.

He stood up and stepped towards me. 

He looked so cute and tame.

I could almost reach him. His fur wasn't puffed out; his back wasn't arched, but he wasn't coming. He was standing there, on the cold concrete, surrounded by metal blades- hissing! Not afraid, just mad.

"You don't want to stay another night out here. Don't you want to come in with the others? Please?"

Surely his mom had explained it all to him in whatever communication methods cats have. Mama cat watched. Old dog watched.

I left the door open again for a little while that day, but, by nightfall only 3 little kittens lay in the cozy box.

When I went near the garage a soft, warning growl and hiss sounded. 

I checked the box in the garage again. Empty.

"Little kitten. Why are you choosing to sleep in the cold, alone?"

The next day I tried to coax him out with food. He turned his nose up at the food. Slowly stepping away from my hand. Growling. Hissing.

"I give up!" I mumbled sadly.

Later that day I realized I didn't see mama cat anywhere. What if? 

I walked slowly over to the long box in the corner of the garage. It had been empty all the other times, but this time it felt heavy as I tilted it upright. There was mama cat staring up at me! Her baby must be in there too. I touched the heavy rag on the bottom of the box. A very familiar growl and hiss sounded from under the rag. I grabbed the kitten and stuffed him in my coat holding firmly to his little body so he couldn't bite or scratch me. He spat and hissed and growled. Mama cat sat and watched.

I have rescued a lot of kittens, but this one was something else. I was sure he was going to bite me. I was worried that, if I released my grip, he would attack!

"You're not going to die." I assured him. "Your life is about to get a whole lot better!"

But evidently, cats can't understand me any more than I can understand them.

I carried him into the warm house.

"Look!" I coaxed gently "It's really nice in here. All your friends are here, and we have food!"

But he was angry that I had pulled him from his happy life of playing with lawn mower blades and sleeping alone. He spat and hissed and tried to move his head to bite me.

The other kittens looked up at us and blinked. -unconcerned with the war sounds coming from my jacket.

Somehow, he ended up in the box with the other kittens, but only for second. He bounced out and hid behind a shelf- growling quietly, yet fiercely. 

"Fine." I said "Stay there. But soon you will be running around playing and having a great time."

This morning, he pretended to sleep in the box while the other kittens ran to see what treats I had brought them. Their bellies were full of milk, but they still came and happily licked at the food I had brought. They purred, played and ate. They climbed my pant legs for attention.

I sat on a stool cleaning out the litter box, then I turned around and saw him. He was peeking out from behind the shelf, and he wasn't growling. He looked calm. He purposefully came a little closer to the food I was offering him and took a bite. I started to touch him, and he growled, standing his ground.

"Okay. I won't pet you."

I wonder how often God reaches out for us humans and we push him away, presuming He doesn't want what is best for us. I wonder, do we sometimes go kicking and screaming into our next stage of life, presuming our life has ended? Does God look at us, like I did that kitten and say: You aren't going to die. In fact, just wait and see what I have for you, just around the corner. It is more wonderful than you can imagine. Don't be afraid. I love you.

Naw, we are humans! We are smarter than this silly little kitty who would rather stay in the middle of a storm than be carried to safety. 

Right?!

Love Anyway, Mama

 This Mama was born into slavery. She already had a daughter and a son when she learned she was expecting a third baby.  She tried to keep it a secret. The Pharoah had made a law that all baby boys should be thrown into the river. 

Maybe it would be a girl.

The day came for the baby to be born. Maybe Amram and Jochebed didn't even call the midwife. Jochebed tried not to make any noise as the sweat rose on her forehead. Amram soon held the tiny human in his hands. They cleaned him off. It was a boy. They exchanged knowing looks. Quietly they removed any evidence. Maybe no one would notice. 

For three months no one noticed. 

For three months the tiny baby nursed and slept and barely fussed. She held him and prayed over him.

For three months their secret was safe.

But how much longer could they hide him?

Jochebed knew it was only a matter of time before someone would find out. So, she decided to follow the law- literally! If her baby was going to be thrown into the river, it would be by her hands, in her way and time. She worked for several days, making the little basket, sealing ever crack. Praying and crying. One day it was ready. She nursed him a little longer. She held him a little tighter. Then, she placed him in the basket and covered him securely. 

Little Miriam was with her. Mama's helper. She had been through so much in her little life. She was also being prepared for great things. This was just the beginning of her ministry.

They placed the tiny basket in the river. Miriam stayed to watch from the reeds along the riverbank.

 Miriam's mom left, pretending like nothing had happened, as if the last year had been a dream. She chatted with the other women. She attended to her tasks. But inside she was crying out to God for mercy. Praying for a miracle. There seemed to be no way. I presume she didn't have a whole lot of experiences with the miraculous. Yet, she believed in the power of God. 

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by her little girl running towards her. Was it over? Had her precious baby been eaten by a crocodile, or discovered by soldiers?

"The princess wants to see you, Mama!" little Miriam called out, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jochebed dropped what she was doing. The rest of the world vanished behind her as she ran faster than she had ever run before.

That evening she sat and held her baby. Moses was the name the princess had given him. "Moses!" she whispered as she nursed him. She tried to hide her tears. God had answered her prayers. Moses was alive! She treasured the moments she had with this little one, pouring into him all that she was allowed to. Physical food as well as spiritual. Singing songs of the promised land as he drifted off to sleep. -knowing her time was short. 

The nourishment she gave him planted seeds that would grow for the next eighty years. Was Jochebed still alive to see the exodus from Egypt? I doubt it. She was probably buried in Egypt. She didn't know that her son would be the one to lead her people to freedom. 

Oh, how important her job was!

We don't know what future plans God has for our children either. We don't know what experiences they will have, or what kind of world they will live in several decades from now.

But right now, as we hold them close, we have an amazing opportunity to fill them with tools they will need wherever this life takes them. Fill them with scripture. Instill in them a love for God's Word. Sing songs to them about God's love and hope for the future. And, most of all pray for them. It's probable that we will never see the end result of these prayers we pray over our children, and grandchildren. But don't lose hope! Those prayers will not be in vain. 

We don't know how much time we have to hold them. 

Probably less than eighty years.

Sometimes, being a Mama might feel pointless. Constantly cleaning up never-ending messes. Or maybe your kids are older, and they are making choices that hurt your heart (like when Moses killed someone and fled into the desert.). Don't stop praying for them.

Even if they don't make the choices you hoped they would. 

Even if you don't get as much time with them as you thought you would.

Even if no one says, "Thank you."

Love them anyway! Cherish each moment and be all in! You have the most important job in the world! 

The Patience of Caleb

 

Jojo and I are reading in the book of Joshua again. I'm not going to try to explain, or even understand, some of the very hard chapters in this book. But one small passage stood out to me this time. It was about a man named Caleb.

Caleb had been on this journey since they left Egypt. He was about 40 years old at the time of the exodus! Caleb's voice was part of the cry that reached heaven in Exodus 3:7 The cry that changed an 80-year-old Moses's occupation from shepherd to deliverer . His hand may well have painted the doorpost of his slave quarters with lamb's blood. His body probably held scars of his time in slavery. However, he was different than the others in his generation.

HE BELIEVED!

He believed that Moses was sent by God. He believed that, even though things seemed to get worse, at first, they would be free people soon! He walked through the Red Sea and watched as his Egyptian owners were washed away. That life was over. A new one had begun. 

He didn't complain about the walking, or the heat, or the cold, or the times he felt thirsty. He ate manna every day with a thankful heart! Bread from Heaven! Angel's food!

Soon they reached the Promise Land. The land that Caleb's ancestors had lived in many years before, but had never forgotten. The land that was now occupied by GIANTS!

Caleb believed God would keep His promise.

When Moses sent a man from each tribe to spy out the land, Caleb was one of them. Caleb walked through an area called: Kadesh-Barnea. He took note of everything. He was ready to come back and conquer the land! Soon they would be free people in their own land. Caleb was ready to see what God would do next.

Joshua and Caleb's excitement is hard to miss, even after centuries and a few translations. It was time!

But no one else seemed excited. They were discouraged. They felt defeated before the battle even began. The beautiful, promised land would not be inhabited by this generation. They must wander in the wilderness for 40 years!

Moses assured Caleb and Joshua that they would live to return and take possession of the land.

Finally, the day came.

Joshua was the leader. 

City by city and piece, by piece, the land was claimed by God's people. Music brought walls down, the sun and moon stood still, and giants were slain. Gradually, each tribe, each family was able to claim their inheritance.

Then, Caleb went to visit his old comrade, Joshua.

"I am 85-years-old today." he said. "...still strong as ever. I'm ready for the land that Moses promised me."

Joshua gave him his blessing.

The Anakim lived there. Giants. A people group still spoken of in hushed tones. Mysterious beings, strong and fierce.

Caleb was ready. He had been ready 40 years ago, and he was even more ready now! 

Caleb could have settled somewhere the younger soldiers had already conquered. But he wanted the land he had explored all those years before. The land of the giants! 

This brave, strong warrior took the hill (Joshua 14:12) and claimed Hebron or himself and his descendants. I wonder if some of them are living there today. I wonder if any of them are as brave as Caleb.

Has God promised you something? Do you feel like, by the time it comes you'll be too old to enjoy it? Remember, Caleb. The man who patiently watched almost everyone else in his generation get discouraged and give up. But who never lost hope and lived to see the fruition of what he had been walking towards his whole life:

 Rest, Peace and Freedom!

A Wasted Life (chapter 2)

 My poor husband had to endure hearing me vent when I got home.

"PE is nothing to mess around with! Jonah might have known the warning signs if he had paid attention!"

My sweet husband paused the video game he was playing with our son and looked up. I could tell he was already lost. 

"I'm a teacher." he reminded me. "I have a feeling PE means something different to me, than it does to you."

"PE, pulmonary embolism." I knew that information didn't help. Sometimes I wish I had someone in my family who spoke my language! But I suppose that would be boring. 

'It's basically a blood clot that moves from the leg to the lungs. It can be deadly." I answered in words he could understand. "Evidently, he has been ignoring symptoms for several weeks: -a swollen, sore leg, followed by a lingering cough and shortness of breath. Who ignores shortness of breath!?"

"I hear ya, but to be fair, he did eventually go to the hospital, and he is going to be okay, right?" 

"No! I mean, yes, he went, but he WOULD have died if it hadn't been for a customer of his. Jonah had just arrived at the scene of an accident. The ambulance was getting ready to leave. When Jonah stepped out of his truck he stumbled and fell on the ground. Someone waved for the EMT's to come over. If they hadn't been right there, it could have been a lot worse."

Later that evening, after the kids were in bed, my husband spoke up. "I think I know what is really bothering you." He always seemed to know, even when I didn't. I had been venting all evening, but now I just sat, ready to listen.

"I don't think it is Jonah you are worried about. I think it is you!"

"What!?" I asked "If Jonah had made better life decisions..." I stopped myself. It was time to listen.

"I think you are wondering if YOU made the right life decisions."

"I love being a nurse. We both agreed that it would make more sense for me to work and you to stay home with the kids." But even as I heard myself speak those words, I realized that he was right. Caleb was wonderful at homeschooling the kids. I got depressed when I was home all day. Also, nursing made more money than teaching. But deep inside I wondered if this was the best way to do life.

Why had I made the decisions I had? How far back should I go?

"Most of your life decisions you have made to please someone else." my husband explained. 

I was the oldest child in my family. I wanted so much to please my parents and grandparents. I wanted to do things right! So, when Grandma said I would make a good nurse, and Grandpa said he would help pay for it, I joined medical school. Did I even pray to see if that was what GOD wanted me to do with my life? I had prayed! Right?!

"I wonder what my life might have been like if I didn't worry so much about what people thought and did what I truly believe God wanted me to do."

"It might not have been that different." Caleb suggested. 

"I know one thing I would have changed if I could." I teased. "We would have had more kids!"

Caleb laughed. "Yes! And we would have gotten married earlier!"

"Definitely!" I laughed, remembering how miserable we had been the last half of our engagement year.

Caleb was wonderful. He always knew what to say. 

He held me close and soon fell asleep. 

I couldn't sleep though. The cool darkness slowed my thoughts so I could sort them out. Why was anger the emotion I felt when I heard that Jonah was at the hospital? Wouldn't concern, sympathy, or even fear, make more sense? What was wrong with me? 

What if it wasn't Jonah I was angry at? 

Maybe I was angry at myself because I, the nurse, should have been able to prevent this. I should have noticed he was favoring one leg. I should have thought about the risk of blood clots and warned him about sitting too much. I should have kept him from becoming a tow truck driver. It is a very dangerous profession!

What was I thinking? 

Did I really think I had the power to prevent the blood clot? And, even if I did, would I have really kept him from following his passion?

How silly of me!

"I'm sorry for getting mad." I whispered into the darkness, to no one in particular.

I fell asleep imagining what my life might have looked like if I followed my passion. What was my passion. Did I have one?

A Wasted Life (Intro and Chapter 1)

 

Introduction

This story began two and a half decades ago when I was in college. It appeared on the page late one night at my writing partner’s house. We munched on popcorn as we typed away. She wrote poetry, and I wrote stories! We both loved this story, but somehow it never got finished. I felt like I didn’t have enough life experiences to write it.

My friend seemed so much older: married with children! She must have been in her thirties! Haha! Those were the days.

Now, here I sit, after midnight, in another time and space. I don’t know why I decided to try this story at this time. The floppy disk I saved it on might still be around here somewhere, but it would be an antique for my laptop. I don’t need it anyway, the story lives inside of me. It has been here all this time, and it has changed, as I have. Hopefully, for the better. Though part of me wonders if it will be as interesting as my naïve, young adult self, wrote it a long time ago.

One thing I changed, just this week, is the main character. I think that has been my problem all along. I had the wrong person as the main character.

 

 

Chapter One

He Never Did Listen to Me

 

“You could have been a doctor! You could have saved people’s lives! You could have saved YOUR life!” I said to the form on the hospital bed.

I stood in the doorway, too afraid of my own emotions to get any closer. There he was, just as I had expected to find him. Broken and frail, yet still smiling – no LAUGHING at me. That silly grin and twinkle in his eyes. I could see it all from here. How could I love and hate someone all at once? My youngest brother.

I had been twelve when he was born, almost a teenager. He was MY baby. No, not like THAT. I mean, I was his favorite! I could get him to burp when no one else could. Later, it was my bed he crawled into. I even taught him to read. We were playing in the tree fort. I wrote him a little story using his name and a few short, easy words.

“God loves Jonah.

Jonah loves God.”

I had him practice until he had it … well, memorized probably. Mom was so pleased she said I could do his reading with him from then on. We read in the fort, in the hammock, in the boat, and snuggled on the couch.

That was when I was seventeen, and Jonah was five. That was before I became an adult. -before I turned selfish.

I don’t think he ever accepted the fact that I was an adult. Which is strange because I highly doubt he remembers when I wasn’t an adult.

Poor kid had abandonment issues because his SISTER moved away and left him behind. With his own, biological parents!

Grandpa and Grandma tried hard to be supportive of my parents’ choice to have five kids AND homeschool, but I think they worried we wouldn’t get a real education. They started a fund when each of us were born to use for college. I used mine to go through nursing school. All our siblings went to college and got good jobs.

And then there was Jonah. Our local college has a program where high schoolers can take college classes: but Jonah just wasn’t feeling it. When he was eighteen, he still wasn’t ready for college. An uncle invited him to help him build tiny houses.

 He was so excited the day he left. His Toyota pickup piled up with all his belongings. I was pregnant and had a toddler on my hip. He had laughed at me that day too. That teasing little brother laugh.

“Be careful!” I told him. “Make sure you use safety gear! Don’t cut any fingers off!”

“Why not?” he laughed “You don’t work at the ER anymore anyway. Don’t worry!”

“It’s okay for him to take a year off before college.” My Mom assured me. “Each person has a different path. We can’t really force anyone to be something they are not. The Bible says, ‘Raise up a child in the way he should go’ only God knows the path that is best for Jonah. I don’t want to be the one to stand in the way of God’s perfect plan for Jonah’s life.”

I knew she was right then, but now I wasn’t sure. Now that he lay in that hospital bed broken and hurting.

“You promised me you wouldn’t get hurt!” I pouted, as if a person can keep such a promise.

He mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear him, so I shuffled closer to the bed.

“That was when I left to build tiny houses, not as a tow truck driver!” he defended himself.

I scowled “You didn’t have to be a tow truck driver. You could have used the money for any career! I always thought you would have been an excellent doctor. If you had received ANY medical training at all, you would have known not to ignore a warm, swollen leg. You could have died from that blood clot!"

I was still angry.

"You chose this path!"

A hot tear rolled down my cheek.

“Yep” he said softly, “I chose this path, and, if I had the opportunity to choose again, I would still choose THIS.”

I stood in the quiet. My mind numb. Wishing I could wake up and all of this would be a dream. Wishing I could turn back time and… and what? What would I change? Did I really think that I would have done a better job of managing Jonah’s life than he had? Was I really that controlling?

Suddenly, I knew nothing.

A nurse came in and I wandered out the door and down the hall. It was so strange being the one leaving the patient’s room. -the one asking the questions instead of giving the answers.

Question like: Who was your visitor? 

Just his controlling big sister.

 Or was she just being helpful?

Who was he? -this man, laying on the bed, telling her he was perfectly capable of making his own life choices and willing to accept the consequences of those actions.

She laughed at herself. Of course he was right.

But did he have any idea how the consequences of his actions would snowball, affecting people he loved and even some he had never met?