Yesterday my husband, son, and I were driving slowly along an unfamiliar street and stopped at an intersection. The car behind us started honking wildly. I was sure we either knew the person or the driver was trying to alert us to some unknown danger. My husband thought he was just tired of our poking along so waved him on. The driver gunned past us and came to a screeching halt just yards to our right. When the man angrily emerged from his car and headed toward us, I had just one thought: Go!
I’m still not sure what my husband was thinking, but I do know he just sat there watching the guy approach. I kept screaming for him to hit the gas to no avail. It’s true that the man had no visible weapon. It’s also true that I’ve behaved a lot like my husband in the past when it comes to crazy people. I’ve just stayed put and taken a beating. No weapons were visible, but I was left bruised and battered just the same.
I am so thankful that I now know to steer clear of crazies. I am now fully convinced that I can never be nice enough to talk sense into them. I hit the gas! Thankfully my husband eventually drove on and the anger management school flunkie didn’t follow us.
Do not make friends with a hot-tempered man, do not associate with one easily angered (Proverbs 22:24)
Do you steer clear of crazy or do you go round and round with them?
Yesterday I was wearing high-heeled shoes when I was working my husband’s booth and speaking at a conference for librarians. I’m definitely a tennis shoes gal so it wasn’t long before my toes were screaming. For some reason, my right foot was the only one that gave me fits. Never fear, I had 3 bandages in my purse that I used to prevent three of my toes from sustaining serious damage. I managed to survive until I arrived home and could slip into some comfier footwear.
This morning I was craving a walk so threw on an especially comfortable pair of tennis shoes in preparation. Only they weren’t comfortable at all. In fact, the toes on my right foot continued to holler for relief. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with my wonderful shoes. Then I remembered the bandages still left on my toes. After removing the unnecessary protection, my tennis shoes felt great once again.
I realized that this wasn’t the first time I had left band-aids on too long. When I was growing up, I was harassed and abused by my school mates. Most evenings I cried about the teasing, the rejection, and even the beatings I endured at school. I insisted my parents say nothing as I feared the mistreatment would escalate. I protected myself by stoically refusing to cry in front of my tormenters.
That bandage worked when I was in school and had to survive, but continuing to wear it gave me unnecessary pain. I put up with mistreatment from others as an adult woman, failing to realize that I no longer had to. I continued to keep the hurt to myself, only letting the tears come in private. Only in the last few years have I realized I don’t have to wear these shoes. I’ve learned that it’s time to take the bandages off and say “ouch” when someone steps on my toes.
I’m a Christian psychologist turned homeschooling mother of six. My life can be a little crazy, so I look for sanity-saving ideas to use and share. I hope you’ll read my About page to learn more.
