"Matthew 5:44 in Action"
(Author Unknown)
Jack tossed the papers on my desk -- his eyebrows knit into a
straight line as he glared at me. "What's wrong?" I asked.
He jabbed a finger at the proposal. "Next time you want to
change anything, ask me first," he said, turning on his heels and leaving
me stewing in anger. How dare he treat me like that, I thought. I had changed
one long sentence, and corrected grammar -- something I thought I was paid to
do.
It's not that I hadn't been warned. The other women, who had
served in my place before me, called him names I couldn't repeat. One co-worker
took me aside the first day. "He's personally responsible for two different
secretaries leaving the firm," she whispered.
As the weeks went by, I grew to despise Jack. It was against
everything I believed in -- turn the other cheek and love your enemies. But Jack
quickly slapped a verbal insult on any cheek turned his way. I prayed about it,
but to be honest, I wanted to put him in his place, not love him.
One day, another of his episodes left me in tears. I stormed
into his office, prepared to lose my job if needed, but not before I let the man
know how I felt. I opened the door and Jack glanced up.
"What?" he said abruptly.
Suddenly I knew what I had to do. After all, he deserved it. I
sat across from him. "Jack, the way you've been treating me is wrong. I've
never had anyone speak to me that way. As a professional, it's wrong, and it's
wrong for me to allow it to continue," I said.
Jack snickered nervously and leaned back in his chair. I closed
my eyes briefly. God help me, I prayed. "I want to make you a promise. I
will be a friend," I said. "I will treat you as you deserve to be
treated, with respect and kindness. You deserve that," I said.
"Everybody does." I slipped out of the chair and closed the door
behind me.
Jack avoided me the rest of the week. Proposals, specs, and
letters appeared on my desk while I was at lunch, and the corrected versions
were not seen again. I brought cookies to the office one day and left a batch on
Jack's desk. Another day I left a note. "Hope your day is going
great," it read.
Over the next few weeks, Jack reappeared. He was reserved, but
there were no other episodes. Co-workers cornered me in the break room.
"Guess you got to Jack," they said. "You must
have told him off good."
I shook my head. "Jack and I are becoming friends," I
said in faith.
I refused to talk about him. Every time I saw Jack in the hall,
I smiled at him. After all, that's what friends do.
One year after our "talk," I discovered I had breast
cancer. I was 32, the mother of three beautiful young children, and scared. The
cancer had metastasized to my lymph nodes and the statistics were not great for
long-term survival. After surgery, I visited with friends and loved ones who
tried to find the right words to say. No one knew what to say. Many said the
wrong things . Others wept, and I tried to encourage them. I clung to hope.
The last day of my hospital stay, the door darkened and Jack
stood awkwardly on the threshold. I waved him in with a smile and he walked over
to my bed and, without a word, placed a bundle beside me. Inside lay several
bulbs. "Tulips," he said.
I smiled, not understanding.
He cleared his throat. "If you plant them when you get
home, they'll come up next Spring." He shuffled his feet. "I just
wanted you to know that I think you'll be there to see them when they come
up."
Tears clouded my eyes and I reached out my hand. "Thank
you," I whispered.
Jack grasped my hand and gruffly replied, "You're welcome.
You can't see it now, but next Spring you'll see the colors I picked out for
you." He turned and left without a word.
I have seen those red and white striped tulips push through the
soil every Spring for over ten years now. In fact, this September the doctor
will declare me cured. I've seen my children graduate from high school and enter
college. In a moment when I prayed for just the right word, a man with very few
words said all the right things. After all, that's what friends do
"'But I say to you, love your
enemies, and pray for those who persecute you in order that you may be sons of
your Father who is in heaven; for He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the
good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.'" Matthew
5:44-45 (NASB)
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