2nd Direction Point: Meditate
One of the more painful memories I have of growing up happened in our living room playing with my brother. He was about five years old and I was about nine. A day before this incident occurred, I had been “investigating” what was in the bathroom medicine cabinet. I was particularly intrigued by my mother’s lipstick. I’d never seen it up close and had wondered what it was made of as I watched her apply it, so I decided to find out one day while she was out. I opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out one of her lipsticks in its shiny bullet case, popped off the cap, screwed out the stick and ran my clumsy young fingers over it feeling its smooth waxy texture. The next thing I knew, it broke and snapped in two. My quest for knowledge had gotten me in trouble. I panicked and attempted to jam the two pieces together and smooth over the crack as best I could. I screwed the stick back into its case, carefully wiped off all evidence of my crime, and replaced it back into its spot in the cabinet. The thought never occurred to me to honestly confess to my mother what I’d done, ask for her forgiveness, and arrange to make it up to her somehow. “They heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God among the trees of the garden.”
The next afternoon, my brother and I were playing on our living room floor with some toys. My mother had since been in the bathroom several times but not a peep. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking my plan had worked and that I was in the clear. At one moment I was vaguely aware of her going into the bathroom; the next, she let out a loud yell. She ran into the living room, locked eyes on my brother and me, and bellowed, “WHO’S BEEN PLAYING WITH MY LIPSTICK?!?!” “But the LORD God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” My brother, not having any idea what she was talking about, looked at her rather quizzically while I feigned complete and utter surprise. Neither of us said a word. She repeated her question and got the same result. By this time I was paralyzed with fear and dared to hope that, if neither of us copped to it, she might relent and blow it off; the game would be a draw. “He said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.”
But then my mother did something totally unexpected. She said, “If ONE of you doesn’t tell me who did this, you’re both going to get it!” She was willing to punish an innocent in order to exact justice. At this point she’d called my bluff. I was going to get punished either way. Still I kept my mouth shut. Why? Was it because I was so scared of punishment? Or ashamed? Suddenly something even more unexpected and bizarre happened: my brother stood up and said, “I did it.” My mother, not wasting a second, her body quickly and rather gracefully swooping down on my brother, enveloped him in one arm and began mercilessly flailing him with her other. She was large and he was small and he began to scream from the pain. She didn’t let up; it seemed as though she beat him forever. He screamed and screamed from the beating meant for me while I cowered, struck mute by her unleashed anger. My silence convicted both my brother and me; it was as good as blaming it on him in the first place. “He said, ‘Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?’ The man said, ‘The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit from the tree, and I ate.’”
That was the day I was booted out of the garden, never to return. But while I cannot go back there, I have nevertheless repented and Jesus will give me the ticket back in when I die. Many years later I confessed to my brother what I’d done, the remorse I continued to feel, and begged for his forgiveness, which he generously gave. I asked him if he remembered that incident from so long ago to which he quickly but simply replied, “Oh yeah.” I asked him the question that had haunted me for decades now: Why did he do it? His answer? “Once she said we were both going to get it no matter what and you weren’t speaking, I knew I would get it anyway and so I figured why put us both through that. I guess I figured I might as well take the punishment for us both.” He took on the punishment meant for me and paid a price for it. It wasn’t my brother standing there in front of me, it was Jesus.
Journaling questions –
1. Examine those areas in your life where the serpent tends to have its way with you (i.e., tempting you away from what God would say or do). What reasons do you believe are the underlying cause?
2. Free will (i.e., the ability to choose, even to wander away from God) is perhaps the greatest gift given and risk taken by God. How do you use this gift responsibly? In what ways do you use this gift irresponsibly?
3. What spiritual practices do you engage in to help give you the strength to make “the right choices?”