Character Confession: Rehearsing for a Play that Will Never Open

When people are skeptical about Christ’s ability to transform people today, I want to bring in people from my childhood to display as my Exhibit A. I was a wounded, angry child and my mouth was often far ahead of my brain. If I couldn’t say it in person, well I did the next best thing–write a letter. I earned the nickname “Poison Pen.”

It’s a true testament to Christ that I’m not referred to that way anymore. But be assured it remains a choice on my part, and some days are easier than others. My feelings get hurt just like yours. Sarcasm? I could be a master if I practiced the skill.

And boy, do I want to have a showcase displaying that talent.

There is someone in a small circle in my life that I give far too much access to my time and thoughts. They are a wounded person that lives a double standard. They love to tell everyone in their radius how privacy is important to them, while they are literally looking over the fence to watch everyone else. I should know. They have literally called out to me from a distance asking how much my mom’s sewing machine cost because they openly confessed they watched my mom sew all night. From a distance.

I learned early on this was a toxic situation and it escalated to a point that someone close to us was nearly harmed because the wounded person got in our business without knowing the full picture and called the police. It wasn’t out of concern, it was out of gossip. And it nearly got our friend, a disabled person who can not speak without assistance, hurt.

And I was  am so mad more than a year later that I still rehearse what I really want to say. When it first happened I caught the person watching me, again, from a distance, as I backed out of my driveway.

Honestly? I wanted to give her a one finger wave. The anger was that intense.

But I dialed down the sass somewhat and stuck out my tongue.

I know. Real mature.

I’ve prayed a lot. For me to have compassion. Yet when my circle and theirs interact, the assessment is always the same. This person is wounded,  and we are all their targets. No one escapes. It’s hard to feel sorry for them.

I’ve prayed for them. There have been hard times in their life and I believe they had a scenario regarding how I’d fit in their life. And I totally don’t match that fantasy. To say they are probably disappointed in me would be an understatement.

Well this week I came face to face with them for the first time in years. I’ve heard time and time again how so and so was such a disappointment because they didn’t greet the wounded person, in fact so and so went out of their way to escape. So when I saw the wounded person, I instantly felt like they deserved a greeting.

So I said hello.

Not loud, but with the courage I had with me. Not snotty, but not full of love, either. But I tried.

And wounded person put their nose in the air and looked right through me.

And my flesh roared back. I whispered, “Unbelieveable! What a pain in the butt!” as I walked away.

But I didn’t stop. Not in my mind, at least.

I’ve been rehearsing for a show that should never go into production. One where I pronounce what probably everyone else is thinking, and I know I am. Where I shout their deeds and failures from the top of my roof. And yes, I’m still struggling with the wave. Not the kind one, either.

I don’t have the right answer for this, but it is a confession Saturday. I know the wrong answer is to keep this rehearsal going. I don’t believe they are approachable or willing to receive anything, so by praying, I’d need to keep it on the down low. Yet, I’m not really feeling it, either.

I know this much, not giving every thought to Christ is a dangerous deed. My rehearsing comebacks are as toxic as the wounded person. No one wins.

And like I said, this show I’m practicing for, the Director of my life never gave it a green light. It doesn’t have backing. No one will buy tickets, because there will be no play. No matinees, no closing night. Nothing.

Where does that leave me? A frustrated actress without a stage. But you know, the play that never opens is the closed door that is closed for good reason. And if I obey, chances are an open door is close by to practice kind words and responses to someone willing to receive.

And through obedience I believe there will be great applause.

From heaven.

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