In those moments, he [Ives] would pray for guidance, for wishing death upon another seemed so ugly that each time it occurred he felt a blackening of his soul.
When Robert's killer is released from juvenile detention after serving his sentence, many people from Ives' neighborhood urge Ives to do "right" by his son. Someone even sends Ives a .22 pistol to take care of the job. Ives throws the gun into the river and prays for forgiveness to enter his heart, which is full of anger and grief.
I think we all experience moments like the one described above. Dark moments when we contemplate dark things. For example, I have been struggling a great deal in the past week with anger. You all know that. At times in the past seven days, I have wished heart attacks, strokes, and professional failure on several people. Of course, like Ives, I felt incredibly guilty afterward and turned to prayer.
Revenge is ugly. It's fun to think about, but, in the end, it really doesn't make any situation better. For instance, I am currently having an issue with certain colleagues at the university, one of whom I barely even know. After seeing this person in the hallway of the department this afternoon, I sat in my office for a while, imagining this person having a psychotic break, showing up tomorrow dressed like Donald Trump and accusing everybody of being illegal aliens. I have to admit that the fantasy gave me quite a bit of pleasure.
In the end, however, I know that I will always have crosses to bear, injustices to endure. That's the way life is. It simply isn't fair, and I have to learn to accept that. People are hired for jobs that I want. People win writing contests that I enter. People live in better houses, drive better cars, earn more money than me--even if they are not kind, not talented, and not very Godly. It sucks, but that's the way the world is.
So, tonight, I'm trying to accept my life situation. I'm praying for guidance, and I'm hoping a little grace comes my way.
Saint Marty doesn't think that's too much to ask.
by: Linda Gregg
What is death to the man who is already dead?
What are cucumbers to him, or the color
of the sea? Surely the people God loves most,
and trusts more, are passionate.
They listen to the wind in dry wild grass.
They know what is beautiful survives
in those who contain the farthest place.
It is true that the voice of heaven promises
a place without hunger or thirst. But clearly
it is not harmony, peace, or wisdom we see
in the face of the risen Christ. It is
the carnage of rapture, lovers transformed
into glory by the crucifixion of their hearts.
Adventures of STICKMAN