It's odd to me the events I remember from my youth, and it's even more odd to me the way I remember some of those events in such vivid detail ... such vivid detail that it's almost as if they took place yesterday. For example, I distinctly remember a spring day when I was 17 years old ... I remember leaning up against Daddy's lime green pickup truck (the ugliest truck ever, by the way) as I tried desperately to convince him that I really had not been sneaking sips of Jack Daniels from the bottle he kept in a cabinet in the downstairs kitchen, the Jack Daniels Daddy kept for "medicinal" purposes. I remember that I was wearing a white cowboy hat, overalls and a white Adidas short-sleeved tennis shirt trimmed with two green stripes on each sleeve. I know what you're thinking ... my awesome sense of style was present even all those years ago. Seriously though, I think the reason that particular day is so clearly etched in my mind is because of the two huge lessons I learned before the sun set that evening.
The first lesson was the hardest of the two, the one that has made my heart ache more than a time or two down through the years. You see, I hurt my dad that day by lying to him about the Jack Daniels ... he knew the truth, and though I wouldn't admit it, I knew he knew the truth. And yet, I leaned against the gate of Daddy's ugly truck, looked into his sad brown eyes and lied like a dog about the booze. There are more than a few things in my life that I'd like to have a do-over on ... that day I lied to my dad about sneaking his Jack Daniels ranks right up at the top of the list. I remember thinking, "I'll tell him the truth someday ... someday, I'll tell Daddy the truth." I never did, though ... I never did tell him that I lied about the booze ... I never did, and all these years later, that lie still haunts me.
My second big lesson came later in the day as Daddy was stacking firewood on the metal racks he had built on one side of the detached garage at the end of the driveway. He was moving the older, drier wood to the front rack so that he could place the newer, greener wood on the farthest rack. I was sitting on the porch reading a book and pouting because Daddy had told me I couldn't go out with my friends that night as punishment for lying to him. Mom was sitting in a chair across from me shelling peas into a kettle that was perched on her lap. All of a sudden, Daddy ran out from where he had been stacking the wood, his arms flailing about as he yelled that he needed help. I remember Mom jumping up from the chair and the kettle falling from her lap onto the concrete, spilling peas everywhere. I couldn't figure out what was going on, but as Mom got close to Daddy, she turned and shouted for me to get the water hose. Though I was still pouting and angry about having to stay home for the evening, I could tell from the tone in Mom's voice that I needed to do what she said and do it quickly. As I tried to untangle the hose and drag it into the yard, I saw Daddy peel off his clothes and toss them to Mom, who by then was screaming for me to hurry with the hose ... quite the surreal scene even now when I think about it. It's not every day that a teenager sees her dad in the back yard in nothing but his underwear while her mom runs around screaming like a banshee ... one of those events that you never imagine happening, you know? I'm sure by now many of you have figured out what was going on ... Daddy had disturbed a large bees' nest as he moved the firewood. By the time it was all said and done, Mom had driven the bees away by dousing Daddy with water from the hose, but not before he had been stung multiple times from head to toe. As I watched Mom care for Daddy, I was keenly aware that had Daddy been allergic to bee stings, he could have easily died that day. I remember thinking that all of a sudden, lying to Daddy about the Jack Daniels seemed so very, very stupid.
The expression "stirred up a nest of hornets" took on all new meaning for me that day, and that same expression has been pounding in my brain for the last couple of days. It's hard for me to believe, but my last couple of posts have definitely stirred up a big old nest of hornets ... hornets that started swarming on Tuesday evening ... hornets that are still swarming even tonight. And here's the thing that disturbs me the most about that, friends ... my previous two posts were about being kind to one another. Let me say that again ... those posts were about kindness ... nothing more, nothing less ... those posts were about being kind to one another. I find it absolutely, totally and completely ironic that my posts about being kind generated a mountain of unkind commentary ... no, ironic isn't the right word at all. I find it absolutely, totally and completely sad that my posts about being kind generated a mountain of unkind commentary. And though I specifically said in last night's post that I did not ever want to have my blog become a platform for anything or anyone, I think I'm going to have to abandon that claim for tonight.
So here's my platform ... my fight, if you will ... my cause that I will support and proclaim until the day I draw my final breath. We should be kind to one another. Jesus told us to be kind to one another. The Bible tells us to be kind to one another. I don't care if you're the CEO of the largest company in the world or if you're the homeless person who sleeps under the overpass on the boulevard near my office. I don't care if you're male or if you're female. I don't care if you're young or if you're old. I don't care if you're a dog person or if you're a cat person. I don't care if you're beautiful or if you're homely. I don't care if you're a preacher or if you're a criminal. I don't care if you're straight or if you're gay. I care about whether or not you are kind. I firmly believe that being kind has nothing to do with any of those things I just mentioned and everything ... absolutely, totally and completely ... everything to do with a person's heart. And here's something else I firmly believe ... I think God would say the same thing ... that being kind is about a person's heart. And. Absolutely. Nothing. Else. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Else.
The two lessons I learned from Daddy all those years ago hold truer for me now than ever before. Lying about who I am is very, very stupid. If I'm allergic to bees and I get stung a lot, I could die.
Tell the truth. Remember that life is short. Be kind to one another. Period.
"Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you." Ephesians 4:32
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