Confronting Toxic People and Maintaining a Submissive Attitude

Talk about serendipity. I have been struggling for a while with a particular situation in my life, and just today saw something that just leapt out at me. Because the overall scenario relates to the focus of this blog, I thought I would share some stray thoughts and maybe help some other folks along the way.

The truth of the matter is that every single one of us has to deal at some point in our lives with toxic people. By toxic I mean poisonous – they are simply not happy until they ruin other people’s happiness or fortune or both. They will scam and cheat to get to the top, and if they are not on the top, they will do everything in their power to destroy or dethrone those on the top. If they feel threatened they will not just respond in kind, they will respond with exponentially more aggression than they feel has been directed against them. Our current president of the United States is a poster child of a toxic personality. The president he replaced was just a step below him – powerful positions attract toxic personalities just as light bulbs attract moths.

The two most common ways of dealing with toxic personalities is to either (a) punch them in the nose and attempt to get them to back down, or (b) allow them to run all over you in the hopes they will tire of their aggression and move on to a more belligerent opponent. I will address each of these responses in turn.

First, there is truth in the maxim that the only way to deal with a bully is to back him (or her) down. One thing toxic people depend on is that no one is going to call their bluff, to make a stand. Toxic personalities are frequently the result of low self-esteem, and that generally means a deep seated fear. Expose that fear, and the bully will run. In point of fact, Jesus stood up to the bullies in his life, and that demonstrates that sometimes you must stand up and challenge the toxic personality and deny them their self-ordained superiority.

Sometimes.

The danger is that by attempting to make a justifiable stand, all we do is verify in the mind of the toxic personality that the world is against them and it is they who are justified in their belligerence. It is a mighty fine line that we attempt to walk when we decide we must back a bully down. I believe the key to help us understand when and how to do so and maintain our Christian attitude is found in Matthew 5:39. This passage, which has been all too frequently mis-translated (and thereby mis-applied) does not mean that we are never to resist an evil person, but that we are not to resist evil using evil means, or using the policy of “eye for eye” (see Romans 12:17-21 for Paul’s confirmation of this assertion!) If a disciple is to never resist an evil person, then Jesus is the chief sinner – for he resisted evil (and evil people) at every turn. But – and this is the truth that Jesus is teaching in the Sermon on the Mount – we cannot confront toxic people using our own concoction of toxic poison!

So, there is a truth in the idea that toxic people in our lives must be confronted, but that confrontation must be according to God’s will, and not our own desire for revenge or, even worse, or own sinful desire to be “top dog.” Chances are if a person is acting in a belligerent, toxic manner to you, they are also being abusive in other situations, and there is a very high likelihood that others are at risk. We cannot allow others to be hurt just because we are afraid of confrontation. There is a time and a place to protect ourselves and others that we know are in danger. We must, however, be extraordinarily careful lest we fall into the trap of revenge or one-upmanship.

Which then leads to the second of our options, and that is to just do nothing and let the toxic person have his or her way, and hope that soon he or she will tire of the game and move on to a more worthy opponent. I must admit a certain weakness here, as this is my default response. That is, until I have a belly full of being pushed around, and then I erupt in the most unChristian  of behaviors which really does not serve me – or anyone around me – very well.

Once again, there is Scriptural precedent for following this course of action. Returning to Matthew 5, it is clear that Jesus is suggesting that personal resistance is not the preferred choice of action. Paul repeats that teaching in Romans 12. But, and make no mistake about this, both Jesus and Paul did offer resistance when resistance was not just available, but was also the appropriate response. Jesus did stop the mob from stoning the woman caught in adultery. Jesus did challenge the Pharisees and others as being a bunch of hypocrites and snakes. Jesus did clear the temple of the money-grubbing merchants. Paul did forcibly confront Peter in the matter of withdrawing from the Gentiles. Paul did forcibly confront the Galatian heresy, and he did hand Hymenaeus and Alexander “over to Satan.” Paul had to deal with Alexander the Silversmith, John had to deal with his Diotrephes.

And yet Jesus allowed himself to be arrested, as did Paul, and both surrendered to events that would lead to their deaths because they had first surrendered to the will of God in their lives.

As I see it, and as I am struggling mightily to apply in my life, if the issue is larger than my wants and my feelings and my personal situation, then I must act to confront the toxic person and either remove them or terminate their authority, if possible. If, however, the conflict in my life is nothing more than a conflict of personalities or if the situation appears to only revolve around my perception of my own self-importance, then I am not justified in acting in a toxic manner myself.

Submitting to  one another, loving one another, being genuinely concerned for one another, does not mean, and even cannot mean, that we allow toxic people to control our lives or even worse, to control the church for which Christ died. But let us be so very careful that we do not allow that truth to so color our perception that we fall into Satan’s trap and become the very poison that we so rightly abhor.

Let us serve, and let us lead, by ascending lower.

My Love Affair With Books

A couple (or more) posts back I asked for a response to the question, “Who is (are) your favorite books/authors?” While the response to that question did not fully show up here, on another site it created quite a conversation – and I loved every response. A comment was made that preachers must be readers of books. I cannot tell you how much I agree with that statement.

Our current infatuation with “social media” is destroying the American brain. I know some may think that is a harsh condemnation, but I firmly believe it to be so. Twitter, Facebook, other social media sites, and even blogs (yes, even this one) have finished warping the American attention span that started being whittled away with the 30 minute sitcom on TV. I remember reading the thoughts of a research guru who suggested that if an author cannot make his or her argument in the first “x” number of pages of a book (I forget the exact number but in was in the teens), that millennials and even some in the other age groups would not bother to finish reading the book. Even in this space, once I get up to about 1,000 words in a post I get nervous, because I know that people will not bother to get to the end of the post.

That is just so sad. When I was young I remember people making fun of the Readers Digest condensations of such books like War and Peace, Gone With the Wind and even Moby Dick. Imagine now – even a condensation would be too long!

I love books, and I fear for the time that we will not be able to follow extensive arguments – arguments that stretch over chapters, not just pages. Some thoughts just cannot be summarized in 15 pages. And if you have to limit the size of the book to 125 pages because the audience just cannot follow an argument any longer than that — well, what is going to happen to our educational future?

Imagine Beethoven being told he had to produce an entire Symphony in only ten pages of score. Imagine Shakespeare being told that if his plays lasted more than 30 minutes he could not keep his audience’s attention. Psalm 119 runs 176 verses long – ponderous, repetitious, magisterial.

I have had a life long love affair with books. It continues to this day. C.S. Lewis is reported to have said that there is not a book long enough nor a cup of tea big enough to suit him. Where would we be without C.S. Lewis?

Thanks to all who chimed in on my “Who Rocks Your World” question. It was deeply gratifying to know that so many folks are reading so many books – in extremely diverse subject matters and with a wide variety of authors.

Do yourself a favor and dig out an old book and brew yourself a big cup of tea (or coffee) and stretch your brain for a while. You will be glad you did!

(and this post took far less than 1,000 words!)

A Week Without Social Media – A Review

Last Friday I made a radical, and some might add, too hasty decision. I had spent a sleepless night fretting over an argument I was having with someone I don’t even know regarding an issue that neither one of us had any inkling of the truth of the matter. Now, stop and think about that. We did not know each other. We were both making assertions the other thought was wrong. And, in perfect honesty – neither one of us was in a position to know any of the facts of the case. All we had was some quotes and a lot – I mean A LOT – of speculation and incendiary accusations.

When I finally woke up on Friday I thought – phooey with this. Why am I losing sleep over an event like this? So when I got to my office the first thing I did was to deactivate my accounts with Facebook and Twitter. I still have one “social media” account, but I have to admit it is about as useless as it can be. But it doesn’t cause my blood pressure to go ballistic, so I’m keeping it for a while.

Anyway, what I was getting to was this – here are some reactions to a week without Facebook and Twitter.

  • I really, really miss some aspects of Facebook. FB was how I kept up with many of my friends and professional acquaintances. That was how I learned about their joys and their hurts – and got to see some pretty hysterical pictures of pets. Cutting off all of that is pretty disorienting. I wonder if anyone is missing me – but that in and of itself reveals that much of my social media interaction was all about ME, so maybe God was letting me know how selfish I was becoming.
  • On the other hand, I do not miss the political posturing and hate memes at all. I had friends that were all over the political spectrum, and it was pretty distressing to see the vitriol expressed by people who I knew to be good and thoughtful friends. I could not care less who they supported or what issue they hated, but their FB posts made it impossible for me to keep up with them and avoid the drama. I know there was the “unfollow” and “unfriend” options, but then how was I to keep up with them?
  • Twitter, on the other hand, has become a garbage dump. I realized at one point that I was following certain persons – leaders within the Church of Christ with a large following of both real and “internet” persons – who were posting comments that were blatantly unchristian would have infuriated Jesus. They were not just border-line comments that could be excused as opinions or feelings – they were outright scandalous in nature and revealed the most bitter and hateful heart. I now have zero respect for those leaders, and I even question those who support them.
  • I have realized that I am going to pay a pretty steep price for deactivating my accounts. A purely tangential benefit of my FB and Twitter accounts was that I was able to keep up with the newest books and trends in theology. In the past week I feel like I have just had my left hand amputated. Somehow I will need to figure out how to stay abreast of this information via other sources. I just have to find those sources.
  • Another price to be paid – FB and Twitter were two avenues that I used to broadcast my blog posts. Now millions of my devoted readers are bereft of my profundity. “Meaningless, meaningless, everything is vanity and a chasing after the wind.”
  • You might be tempted to argue with me that all I have to do is to focus on the good and ignore the bad. The only problem is – FB and Twitter posts were created for the very specific purpose of NOT being ignored. No one posts a meme or tweet and then says, “boy, I sure hope no one pays attention to what I just said!” That is the big lie of social media. You can’t argue, “it’s just my opinion, get over it.” When you disparage a public figure, when you blindly accuse someone of murder, when you post bitter, hurtful words that are clearly intended to cause someone else to hate what you hate, you cannot just say, “I’m entitled to my opinion.” You may be – according to the US Constitution. But since when is being legal being right? Since when were the words of Jesus rescinded – “By your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” When was it that Jesus retracted his statement that the two greatest commands were to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind, and the second greatest command was to love others as we love ourselves? If we would not physically treat someone with such disrespect if they were in front of us (and with Jesus standing nearby), why do we think we can get away with treating that person shamefully just because we are “anonymous” on social platforms like FB and Twitter? I confess – I have stooped to the very behavior I am condemning, and it is primarily for that very reason that I deactivated my accounts. “If your FB or Twitter feed causes you to sin – CUT IT OFF!”

I won’t lie and say the past week has been easy. On way more than one occasion I have been tempted to restore my accounts “and just listen,” but then I realize my self-control when it comes to “just listening” is about as useful as putting up a stop sign in front of a hurricane. My FB and Twitter accounts were changing me – and I assure it it was not for the better. You can only drink poison for so long before it takes its effect. I know there are many good things about FB, less so about Twitter. But sometimes you have to put up barriers around your spiritual life to protect that which is the most important to you.

On the positive side, some of my guitars have seen the outside of their cases for the first time in months . . .

One Second

It is terrifying how quickly our lives can change. No matter how much we plan, no matter how we protect ourselves, no matter how many layers of padding or insulation we wrap around ourselves, our entire life can be irreversibly changed in the time it takes to blink an eye.

In what can only be described as a horrific and unimaginable tragedy, a police officer shot a man in his own apartment. There is no “sense” to be made here – reason simply fails us. There are times in this world where all we can do is hang our heads and cry, “Oh God!” That is why we call them tragedies. Tragedies are unexplainable. They break our hearts and they devastate our lives, but trying to make “sense” out of them is hopeless.

And in that exact moment when disciples of Christ should be the most circumspect, the most hesitant to jump to conclusions, the most reticent to assign guilt or blame, we have “Christians” screaming for the blood of the officer. The hatred that has been expressed by those standing in or in front of churches is, quite frankly, repugnant. It seems, according to these “Christians,” that even the very lowest bar of justice – that of “innocent until proven guilty” is WAY too high for them to consider. The words of our Savior in the sermon on the mount about praying for one’s enemies, about walking the second mile, about loving as God loves – forget that. “I know I say I am a Christian, but that does not matter in this case. I can hate cops – its my right.”

I think I know why this case troubles me so deeply. A number of years ago I was involved in a car accident. I say, “involved,” but I should really say I caused it. I carelessly did not see a warning sign. No one was hurt, although to this day I don’t know why. One second earlier or later and there would have been serious injuries if not death. I was careless. I was negligent. I could have been criminally charged were it not for that blessed second of time.

I do not know what went through that officer’s mind as she entered that apartment, why she did not step back, why she drew her weapon, why she decided she had to shoot. None of us do – except that officer. Which makes it particularly important that we not assign motives to her actions without knowing more of the story.

It may very well turn out that she knew exactly what she was doing. She may have staged the whole event. She may indeed be guilty of a crime far worse than negligence. I am not omniscient, I do not know. None of us do. Right now I know she took the life of an innocent young man, my brother in  Christ. He was washed in the same blood that washed me, and it is that reality that pushes me to my knees when I think of the many times in my life when I have done things that have hurt other people – sometimes physically but much more often emotionally – and through that blood I am promised that I stand forgiven. Honestly, I don’t understand why.

One second. When I remember that accident I break out in a cold sweat. I think of the way I could have been treated. I think of the way I was treated. I had no excuses, I had no defense.

I just wonder – how many of the people who are screaming for the blood of this officer have been one second away from a similar tragedy – senseless, inexplicable, indefensible.

Almost 2,000 years ago a man stood in a Roman courtyard and received the whipping that I deserve. He died the death that was reserved for me. “By his wounds we are healed.”

I am terrified by the thought that only one blessed second separates me from the position this officer finds herself. If her story is true – if there is even the smallest possibility that she has faithfully and honestly reported her impressions and her actions to those investigating this case – at the very least she is guilty of negligence. In such a case there is no doubt in my mind but what she wants that one second back – would give anything to have that one second back. It won’t happen.

As I sit here hundreds of miles away from Dallas, I wonder: of all the thousands of “Christians” who are demanding that this officer be punished to the very extent (or even beyond) of what the law allows –

Is there one Christian, one disciple of Christ, who is willing to reach out to her?

One second. Dear God, I am so guilty.

9/11 – 17 Years Later and We Still Have Not Learned

Every anniversary of 9/11/01 is difficult for me. I was a pilot that day, in the air as those two planes were used as missiles to strike the World Trade Center towers one and two. To this day I get queasy as I relive the events of that day and the days following. I remember as if it was yesterday taking off and flying back to my hometown a few days later. Never before or since have  I experienced such conflicted feelings.

That was going to be the topic for this post, but another, much more recent event, has brought all of those feelings back to me, albeit in a much different manner. As I write this (9/11/18), it has been less than a week since a young man was shot and killed by a police woman who, according to her story, mistakenly entered his apartment thinking it was hers. The young man was my brother in Christ, according to all who knew him he was a great disciple of Christ. The young police woman was also highly respected by her peers, earning the right to become a part of a special unit to combat crime in her city.

This is a tragedy of epic proportions. There simply is no good way for this to be resolved. Botham Jean will never be brought back to life. The young officer will always have to deal with the fact that she took an innocent life. It simply does not matter at this point if she is convicted of a crime or not. If she was a conscientious officer – and by all accounts she was – this event will traumatize her for the rest of her life. It should.

Seventeen years ago we learned what hate can do to a country. It is obvious as I read what people are saying about this tragedy in Dallas, that we have not learned a damned thing about hate. And for those of you who wonder, yes, I thought long and hard about using that adjective. There is nothing about hate that is not damnable and damned. And, those of us who hate will share in that damnation.

When I told my wife about the events, her response was that she hoped the young man was not black. He was. She said she hoped the police woman was not white. She is. Those two facts are apparently all that some people need to know. People of another race are to be hated. Police are to be hated. Hate, hate, hate.

I do not want to suggest that the officer is not guilty of a horrendous crime. At the very least she is guilty of a gross negligence that deserves some penalty. I am simply not competent enough to know all the laws of Texas and to know what punishment is appropriate for her crime. She is guilty of taking an innocent human life, in his own apartment, where he should have felt the most safe.

But as I write this – less than a week after the events unfolded – there simply has not been enough facts of the story released for ANYONE to know what happened, except, of course, the officer. So much misinformation has been distributed as to make any decent understanding of that night almost impossible. Some claim there was a verbal exchange between Botham and the officer. There was at least one report that she was returning home after a fifteen hour shift. True? False? We as the general public simply have no way of knowing for sure.

One response that I have seen from a number of people is that, because the officer was off duty, she was no longer a “police officer” and should not be accorded any of the protections that come with her position. I simply want to ask: at what point does a person cease to fulfill his or her occupation? Does a doctor cease to be a doctor when he or she leaves the hospital? If he or she were to come upon a person in distress or having been wounded does the doctor say, “I’m sorry, I clocked out – I’m not a doctor anymore?” Does a fireman simply walk away from a burning house with the excuse that, “My shift is over – I’m not a fireman now”? A police officer, especially in uniform, is a police officer. In the event of an emergency, if a person is in distress, if there is a crime being committed, that officer is bound by their oath to respond. To suggest that the officer not receive the protections also afforded to those who put their lives at risk every day is simply absurd – and full of hate. Yes, she is also thereby held to a higher standard – especially when it comes to drawing her weapon. Is she to be exonerated simply because she wears a badge? Absolutely not! But as I understand the situation, the Texas Rangers have handled her case with all due respect and dignity. They did recommend charges be brought against the officer while carefully investigating her story. That should be enough – but apparently it is not.

I have been deeply touched by the response of the family. Botham’s mother has been the picture of grace – extending forgiveness to the officer while at the same time demanding answers for the death of her son. On the other hand, the interjection of lawyers has inflamed an already emotional situation, and the charges of racism have roiled the city. This was not, and is not, a question of racism. It is a deeply disturbing example of human weakness, even recklessness, that resulted in the death of an innocent man. As a city, as a state, as a nation, we need answers. As the grieving mother has stated – there are just far more questions than answers at this point, and that has to be almost impossible for the family to bear.

As I drove to work this morning I noticed that both sides of the main road of my little town were lined with American flags. I almost had to pull over (and probably should have) because of the tears in my eyes. I remember so clearly why those flags are out today.

Hate.

Seventeen years later we have not learned a thing about hate. We have a president who spews hate with every word he utters. We have a ruling congress that views each little opposing (D) or (R) as a symbol of execration. We have a culture in which polite discussion has ceased to exist, and in it place all we have is blind and deaf shrieking and screaming.

A sensible person would think, on this day of remembrance of one of the most horrific examples of evil this world has seen, that we as a civilized culture could put down our weapons long enough to realize the catastrophic end of a culture founded on hate. An eye for an eye works only until everyone is blind.

Jesus died because of hate. Our hate. Our hatred of God, our hatred of each other, our hatred of ourselves. If there is a symbol of hate that we should all recognize it is the cross.

It is not insignificant, then, that one of the last things Jesus said while hanging on that cross was, “Father, forgive them . . .” Jesus was nailed to the outside of the cross – he never let the hatred get inside of him.

Just a question – If Christ fills our heart – where is there room for hate?

God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

When Your Sacred Cow is Gored

I believe that one of the real “acid” tests for our profession of faith in Christ comes when one of our “Sacred Cows” is gored. By that I mean a cherished belief is questioned, a matter of absolute life and death is declared to be nothing more than mere opinion. Let me illustrate with three examples, one from Scripture, and two from Christian history.

The first is the well-known conversion of the Pharisee Saul to the disciple Paul. Saul was convinced with every fiber of his body that the sect of the Nazarenes had to be extinguished. So convinced, in fact, that he devoted his life (or at least a major part of it) to the persecution of that sect. Then, on the road to Damascus, Saul learned that this mission was, in fact, directly opposite of what he thought it was. In fact, he learned that his prior life as a Pharisee was the false religion that he believed the Christian Way to be. His “sacred cow” was gored to death. He spent the remainder of his life proclaiming this Jesus of Nazareth to be the Son of God, and called all men to accept that Jesus as both their savior from sin and Lord of their life.

The first example from history would be the combined efforts of Thomas and Alexander Campbell and Barton W. Stone, and their many co-workers. Both of the Campbells and Stone were raised in and promoted the Presbyterian (Calvinist) interpretation of Scripture. At varying points in their lives, the Campbells, Stone, and others had this “sacred cow” gored. To their everlasting credit they made the decision to follow Scripture where Scripture led them, and they allowed that “cow” of denominational creedalism to pass away.

The second of my historical examples is Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a young German theologian educated in the most liberal of theological universities, and the heir of the other major church reformer, Martin Luther. In the late 1920’s and early 1930’s, Bonhoeffer had his theological “sacred cow” gored, and he would eventually suffer death as a result of his passionate efforts to reform and renew the German church.

What did Saul turned Paul, Thomas and Alexander Campbell, Barton W. Stone, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer all share in common? Not a theological background – Saul was a Jew, the Campbells and Stone were Calvinist Presbyterians, Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran. Not a historical epoch – Saul died in the mid first century AD, the Campbells and Stone in the mid 19th century, and Bonhoeffer in the mid 20th century. Not geography – Saul in Palestine, the Campbells and Stone in America and Bonhoeffer in Nazi Germany. What united these pioneers of faith?

Perhaps many things could be listed, but the one thing that stands out to me is their willingness to be open to the Word of God as it was revealed to them. Saul (Paul) had a miraculous revelation of Christ, the Campbells and Stone were caught up in the fires of the Second Great Awakening, Bonhoeffer was caught up in an entirely different kind of fire. The biblical Saul, the ante-bellum Restorers and the Nazi resister Bonhoeffer were faced with unique and world-changing situations, and each responded to the call of Scripture in almost the exact same manner: they listened to the Word of God and rejected their former beliefs, even up to and (in the case of Saul and Bonhoeffer) including the sacrifice of their own lives.

These all ascended by climbing lower.

I don’t think our Christian mettle is proved when we sit in an auditorium and hear a sermon, the content of which we have heard hundreds of times before, and with with we agree completely. We are not proven to be disciples of Christ when we demand that every word that we hear, or read, comes from a “sound” gospel preacher (whatever in the world that means). We do not “study to show ourselves approved” when we never allow ourselves to be challenged or have any of our “sacred cows” gored.

I am thankful for all the faithful preachers and teachers who have been influential in my life. I am especially thankful for those who have demonstrated to me the ability, and in fact the necessity, of the strength of character to have my own “sacred cows” gored, so that I can decide if the voice I am following is that of the Good Shepherd, or that of the accuser of mankind.

May we all be blessed with that strength of character!

 

Walking With a Limp

This past weekend was an unhappy anniversary for me. It was one year ago that I broke the femur bone in my right leg. The next day I had surgery, and a titanium rod was inserted inside the bone. I did not know the extent of the surgery, and still to this day have many questions, but the surgery led to two weeks in the hospital followed by a week in a rehab hospital, followed by weeks of physical therapy. The surgeon told me it would be a year before I felt good as new again – and so far he came close, but I am wondering if I will ever feel “as good as new.” I do not experience constant pain (although sometimes my leg lets me know it is through cooperating!), but I think there was some other damage to my leg, as I have very little lateral strength in my knee joint. Although it is not as pronounced as it once was, I still walk with a limp.

I feel somewhat peevish complaining about my little limp. Just call me the wimp with the limp. My wife battled cancer, and has had much more to deal with than me, and I know a number of other people who have to battle severe pain each and every day of their lives. My battle is with a mole hill compared to their mountains. Still, just over a year ago I walked just fine, and today I walk with a limp. I fear I always will.

I am reminded of Jacob who wrestled with God and had a dislocated hip joint to prove it. He always walked with a limp to remind him of his struggle with God. Why did God not just heal the wound after the lesson was learned? The apostle Paul was blessed with a “thorn in his side” to convey the message that God’s grace was sufficient for him. Why did God not remove the thorn after the lesson was learned? It is not like Paul was ignorant or anything – I think he would have remembered the thorn, and what a great object lesson had the thorn been removed.

Jacob had to walk with a limp. Paul had to feel the “thorn in his side” regardless of how many times he prayed to have it removed.

My limp was not caused by wrestling with an angel, or as a result of being called into the third heaven. But I have learned some lessons during the year that I was confined to a wheelchair, hobbled on a walker, cripped along with a cane, and now get along with only a knee brace in the most stressful of situations. Mostly, I have learned that my little limp is hardly something to complain about when compared to cancer patients struggling with chemotherapy or arthritis patients just struggling to get out of bed every morning.

I wish I did not have my limp. I wish it would go away. I wish I could be “whole” again just as I was on August 1, 2017. But I’m not, and it won’t. What I can be is thankful that I have two legs, that I have my wife who is a cancer survivor, and that I can greet the morning sun each day.

I think walking with a limp is a pretty small price to pay for all of God’s other blessings in my life. And I apologize for so often making it sound so much bigger than it really is.