Two Wrongs Don’t Make A Right

 “Two wrongs don’t make a right”

That’s some of the best advice my father ever gave me.  I heard it every time someone had wronged me, and I verbalized how I planned to get revenge.

My father never told me not to take the action. He didn’t ask me the details of the situation. There was no discussion of my feelings or the consequences of my strategic mischief.

No, it was just six simple words. The first time he said it, I was confused. I had to think it through, but even as a young boy, I got the message. What I was about to do was wrong, and it would not correct the offense done to me. I always had no response – not a word.  You can’t dispute this idiom. Two wrongs never make a right. You may as well argue that one plus one does not equal two.

But I heard these words from my father often – I guess I liked to verbalize my misguided plans – and every time I disliked hearing this expression because I knew it was true and I had no counter-argument. And I heard it enough that it is permanently burned in my brain. Unfortunately, I have not always followed this principle. But that’s because I’m not a saint, not because it isn’t valid.  

If you don’t believe the concept is genuine, then let me refer you to THE BOOK, which puts it this way:

If someone has done you wrong, do not repay him with a wrong.

Or if you prefer ….

Do not repay anyone evil for evil.

But I still prefer my father’s simple version:                      

“Two wrongs don’t make a right”

And right now, we need to trust these six words more than ever. We, as a people, have sailed far off course and need desperately to right our ship.

Believe it or not, many people perpetuating the problem do believe “two wrongs don’t make a right.” But their response is not to do the right things; it’s to keep doing additional wrong things. Yes, two wrongs don’t make a right, so we’ll do three wrongs, fifty wrongs, and two hundred wrongs to try to make it right, balance things out, and thus create a perverse type of justice. The warmongers will even use past wrongs to justify all their current wrongs, while believing their actions are pure and noble.

But if one wrong done in response to something is in fact wrong, then continued wrongs make the situation worse - much worse. No matter how many wrongs you commit, you don’t make it right. You just are more wrong.

And referring back to THE BOOK, if you keep repaying evil for evil, what happens is you generate a tremendous amount of evil. A society filled with evil is a dangerous place. And as these events unfold before us in real-time, you can feel the presence of evil among us. All because ….

“Two wrongs don’t make a right”

This doesn’t absolve us from addressing some past wrongs. But it is nearly impossible to have meaningful dialogues that lead to constructive change when so much evil payback is occurring.

But the proverb applies to everyone, every time.  We will destroy ourselves when there is an initial wrong, responded to with another wrong, which is responded back to with still another wrong, until there is an endless feedback loop of wrongs. Which all put together, will never result in a right. Nothing is being accomplished. No problems are being solved. The only result is more hatred and more evil. That’s why THE BOOK warns against repaying evil for evil. And my father’s wisdom is still golden:

“Two wrongs don’t make a right”

  

 

 

Graham is gone ….

Graham was one of the first friends I met as a freshman on the University of Akron campus, and he was my best friend from my college days, excluding my wife, of course.

I can remember the circumstances of how I first met most of my longtime friends, but I can’t tell you how I met Graham. I do know we hit it off immediately. We were two intelligent guys from blue-collar roots. We both had a great sense of humor, loved to laugh, and didn’t take the world too seriously. But now it is serious, because …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

We also shared a love for contemporary Christian music, which was just gaining exposure in the Midwest at the time. Over the years, we talked about how organized churches were doing it all wrong. We even imagined starting our own church and doing it right, even though we weren’t pastors. But that will never happen now, because …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon  

Graham

Graham and I thought it was amusing that we were good friends despite our high schools being fierce rivals. In later years, we would pretend to have these high-school inspired fights on Facebook to the delight of many. But there the rivalry has ended, because …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

Graham was the most intelligent person I ever knew. He had a doctorate and worked for a time at NASA. Yes, he was a rocket scientist. But you would never know it. He never imposed his intellect on anyone. You would think he was just an average guy, with average smarts. Graham and I would have these deep discussions where we would try to solve the world’s problems, even though we knew no one would ever listen to hooligans like us. But those discussions are over, because …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

After college, Graham attended my wedding, and I would occasionally run into him at concerts. But like most people, we lost touch. He left his job at NASA in Cleveland and then worked at an aeronautics firm in New Jersey.

However, we were able to connect by the wonder that is Facebook. I can’t remember who friended who, but the relationship was renewed. But it was about this time that his life began to change. His marriage ended about the same time as his New Jersey job. He moved back to Ohio, which meant we could meet. But there will be no more meetings, because …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

Graham was fed up with the corporate establishment, so he now worked jobs much below his skill level. He and a partner formed a non-profit designed to reduce bullying in schools. I even invested in the organization to support my friend.

He also fell in love with a lovely Filipina woman who he met on Facebook. No matter how you may view this relationship, he loved her, of that, I am sure. Right, wrong, crazy, stupid – I don’t care. He loved her. And that was good enough for me. And I want to believe she truly loved him. Based on my correspondence with her, she is a good person. She is not a fake.

They wanted to marry and went through the expensive and arduous government requirements to make that happen. I even wrote a recommendation letter as part of the process. Once the final paperwork was approved, Graham’s fiancée would fly here, and they would wed.

Graham needed money for her plane ticket and final government fees, so he started a GoFundMe campaign. Surely, with all his Facebook friends, he thought he could quickly raise all the necessary funds and more. However, he didn’t receive many contributions. What it did get were many derisive posts critical of his action. The comments hurt him, but they didn’t diminish his love for the woman one bit. 

The lesson here: Don’t publicly criticize the personal decisions of others, when it is none of your d@mn business. It serves no purpose but to hurt the person and make you look whiny and hateful. 

I supported my friend, because he is my friend, and I knew how important this was to him. But only three people donated any money to his campaign  - only three. He collected $535. The other two donors gave $20 and $15, respectively. You can do the math.

But tragically, the visa application was denied at the last moment by the Philippine government. Graham was crushed and his fiancée heartbroken. I never got my money back, but that was okay with me. Graham tried to pay me back by helping to promote my books, but he owes me no longer, because …   

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

Then Graham suffered a severe stroke. One of those that you almost wish you didn’t survive. He went through extensive physical therapy and made remarkable progress. He looked healthy and seemed to be committed to surviving this trauma.

But the stroke and the broken engagement changed Graham, and not for the better. He became bitter and more argumentative. He became much more serious. I resented that, but looking back, how could he not be bitter? He had had the life sucked out of him, by no, or little fault, of his own.

The lesson here is: Our longtime friends can change due to physical and mental issues we don’t see. We need to cut them some slack.

Graham even argued with me, and not those pleasant discussions of our college days. But there will be no more arguments, because …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

But the next time I had lunch with Graham, he did not look as healthy. I think he had figured out that he wasn’t sure how much life he had left, so he may as well get as much out of life as he could. He hadn’t given up on life – life had given up on him. But there will be no more lunches, because …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

His condition deteriorated. He had to move to Pennsylvania to stay with his son. He hated to be a burden, but he had no choice. On his last visit to Ohio, we were supposed to get together. He texted me late on his visit.  But I told him I was engrossed in watching a football game and that “I would catch him next time”. But there will be no next time, because ….

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

A few months ago, I got an early morning message from his former fiancée. She had heard Graham had passed and wanted me to confirm. He had posted earlier that week that he was having health issues and maybe it was the virus, but not to worry. But his health had been deteriorating for months. I sadly had to message back to the woman …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

And now, as I pass through middle age, these sad texts and messages become much too frequent. I can better deal with what aging is doing to my body than what it is doing to my old friends. And this one hurts, but it must be endured, because there will be more. But for now …

Graham is gone – and he left this place much too soon

 

The Nemesis (Part 2) - An Unexpected Response

(This one will make more sense if you read Part 1 - The Nemesis, first.)

It was supposed to be such a delightful evening -- the first banquet event of the post-pandemic era. A chance to see some old friends, enjoy a great meal and learn more about a charity I had supported for years. But now, I sit only twenty feet from my nemesis -- a person who had done me wrong years ago.

I know he is right over there at the table behind me, and I know he has seen me. I’m easily in his field of vision.  And now my emotions are spinning, trying to figure out what to do.

What should I do? What should I do? I feel like I need to do something, but what?

I am highly agitated, and I can’t calm down. My thinking goes like this - If he does not acknowledge me, then why should I acknowledge him? I’m just going to pretend he isn’t there, and we can both ignore this elephant in the room. Hey, it’s a banquet hall; there is plenty of room for me, him, and that elephant.

And that works for me. I calm down and enjoy my meal, having a great time reminiscing with some old friends at my table. Yes, ignoring my nemesis was not difficult, and doing nothing was by far the easiest thing to do. But  in life, the easiest thing to do is seldom the right thing to do.

As I mentioned previously (In Part 1), my wife seemed highly entertained by the drama playing out that evening, and she continued to play the role of agitator.

“He just walked right behind you,” she said.         

“What???” I snapped back.

“Yeah, he went up to get his dessert and walked right behind your chair”, she explained.

Due to Covid, the desserts were not by your plate, but on a large table in the front corner of the hall. I looked back to where my nemesis was seated, and sure enough, the shortest path between his chair and the desserts ran right behind me.

I had been snubbed. Now to most people, this would be a minor offense. But I have a personal fault when it comes to be snubbed. I am an only child, which means I have a need to be the center of attention. If you ignore me, it sets me off. It shouldn’t, but it does. So, my internal reaction to being snubbed is:

OH, NO, YOU DON’T!

If my emotions were spinning before, now they had kicked up to a higher gear. As the program for the evening started, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, because once again:

Well, you just got snubbed – what are you going to do now?

And then this other voice inside my head suddenly joined the conversation. I don’t know what this voice is. Some will say it is your conscience. The Jesonians will say it is the SACRED FORCE. Maybe, I am just insane (a real possibility).

Me: This has to stop! It’s driving me crazy. This needs to end tonight.

The Voice: Yes, this does need to end tonight, and you know how to end it, don’t you?

Me: Yes, I do know how to end it, but that ain’t gonna happen. No way!

The Voice: Oh, then who’s going to be the bigger man tonight?

Me: I don’t care about being the bigger man. Even if I did do the right thing, he would still think he is the bigger man because he has an enormous ego. Why it’s bigger, bigger, than ..

The Voice: Yours?

Me: Yes, even bigger than mine. But I still don’t care at all about being the bigger man. Nice try, but I ain’t budging.

The Voice: Alright then, who’s going to be the better man?

Me: Once again, that doesn’t matter. I am so clearly the better man. This is not up for debate. If you asked 100 people that know us both, I am confident 97 would say I am the better man, and the other three would be wrong.

The Voice: Okay, so let’s say you are the better man. What would the better man do tonight?

Me: Ohhh, aaahh, ehhh, uhh, hmm … Yes, I know the answer to that one. I guess, I could, possibly consider it ….

The Voice: That’s good. Of course, if your nemesis would happen to do the right thing before you do, that would make him the better man, wouldn’t it?

Me: OH, THAT IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. This is going to end tonight, as soon as I can end it.

The Voice: Thought you might see it my way … I’m out of here ….

Me: Well played, voice in my head, well played.

And as soon as the program ended, I walked over, smiled, and extended my hand. The smile? No, I wasn’t happy to see him. I was smiling because the better man was doing the better thing.

My nemesis still was nervous in my presence. There was no “how have you been” chit-chat. Instead, he immediately diverted the conversation into an area of mutual, impersonal interest. We talked for a couple of minutes before someone else approached him. Strangely enough, this was the best conversation I have ever had with my nemesis.

The next day I notified three friends, who know all the history involved with us, that I had shaken hands with my nemesis. 

Joe, who is a positive guy, replied with: “I’m proud of you!”

Sam’s reply was a sarcastic “Way to go! You did a great job with your restraint”. Which is Sam’s way of saying, “I’m glad you didn’t punch him in the face.”

However, Karl’s reply was not as pleasant: “Spit in your palm first?”. Now you might think Karl was joking, but I assure you, he was not. But Karl is not alone in his disgust. Sam told me that several years ago, one of his friends encountered my nemesis in a store parking lot. That chance meeting resulted in a threat of gun violence and the police being summoned. Now you may understand why I thought this whole incident was worth writing about.

 Well, it’s a good, good feeling

When you leave the past behind – Larry Norman

Somehow, I ended up doing the right thing even though I didn’t want to. Maybe it’s a sign of maturity. Perhaps it reflects the gleaned wisdom of now knowing what is the right thing to do. Or it could mean that as we age, we realize it’s not worth hanging on to the resentment generated by grudges long in the past.

I now have one fewer nemeses, and it feels good. Unfortunately, there are still a couple more out there somewhere. I’m not likely to ever encounter them again, but if I do, I hope I am able to handle it this well.

 

 

The Nemesis – Part 1

I had a nemesis. He wasn’t an enemy – we weren’t actively engaged in conflict against each other. But still a nemesis – someone who made me want to spit on the ground every time his name was mentioned. (We will refer to the person as my nemesis, for the remainder of this post) 

I never liked my nemesis from the day I met him. And I never pretended to. He sensed my aversion because I couldn’t hide it. In my neighborhood growing up, we were honest about our feelings toward each other. I never learned the important skill of pretending to like someone.

Despite my disdain for the guy, I still played nice, which is my nature. But then there was the “incident”. My nemesis had an opportunity to do be harm, to do me in, so to speak, and he did. I tried not to take it personally, but all my friends and associates believed this was a personal, deliberate action. Often, I am oblivious when someone intentionally mistreats me and friends have to tell me the bad news. This time the verdict was unanimous, and thus, I accepted it as fact.

And so, I had enmity (the state or feeling of being actively opposed or hostile toward someone) towards my nemesis. There was bad blood – the baddest of blood. I had a nemesis whose act of vengeance against me I couldn’t deal with.  Fortunately, I no longer had to see him, but that didn’t stop people from mentioning his name in my presence to provoke a reaction. Other people would refrain from doing so out of respect for me.

Crossing Paths

Almost five years after “the incident”, my nemesis and I were at a huge event and eventually, I spotted him. I was in a much better place after five years and was prepared to reconcile. But before I could approach him, I sensed he was very apprehensive and uncomfortable seeing me. Of course, that made me feel extremely awkward, so I did not approach him.

A year later, I was eating a snack at a reception after a big meeting when my nemesis unexpectedly showed up in the same room. I had not had time to prepare for this encounter. I responded by panicking, wolfing down my food, and bolting for the door at the earliest opportunity. 

However, knowing that my nemesis was also uncomfortable in my presence did provide some solace. I imagined what I might do if we were ever forced to meet, which was a possibility. I thought about giving him a sinister look, the type a villain gives right before he rips someone’s heart out with his bare hands. I considered giving him a huge bear hug, thanking him for what he had done. There would be those fearful seconds where he wouldn’t know if I would release him or crush his ribs. But I wouldn’t actually be thanking him. Yes, I did recover splendidly from “the incident” but there is the matter of intent. The intent was bad, so the blood remains bad. But in the following six years, our paths never crossed. Until …

The Dinner

Recently, I was invited by my long-time friend Mark to a fund-raising dinner for a charity I support. I had never been to one of these, but Mark is now working with this charity and insisted I attend.

Upon arriving, my wife and I exchanged pleasantries with Mark and his wife. He told me there would be several people attending that I had not seen in a while. He said, “Hey, you know (my nemesis), don’t you? He’ll be here.”

Well, that, of course, wasn’t a pleasantry.  My wife had not heard the comment. I quickly pulled Mark aside and explained “the incident”, so he wouldn’t try to reintroduce us later that evening.

Due to the pandemic, the tables at the dinner were preassigned and your nametag was placed on the table. We found our seats, and I broke the startling news to my wife. “My nemesis will be here tonight.” She seemed more intrigued than concerned with this news.

Me, I was concerned. I was looking forward to a pleasant evening, and now I had to deal with this. It was a large banquet room, spaced out a little more due to the pandemic. I was at the very front corner of the room, and if he were sitting anywhere on the other side, I would never even see him.

“I wish I would have checked the register to see what table he’s at”, I told my wife. Moments later, the register popped up on the main screen. 

“He’s at Table 8. It’s probably way over there”, I said.  

“Look, it’s right there! she exclaimed.

I spun around to see a big “8” on the table directly behind us to the right.   Well, there was no avoiding this predicament. It was obvious he was going to see me. As I often tell people, at 6’3” with a shaved head, “I’m hard to miss.”

It was then, I first asked myself the question:

What are you going to do?

A few minutes later, my wife grabs my arm and announces, “He’s here.” I have to look, and there he was, like disgust lemon sour - I smell vex and conflict”.  My wife was so intrigued at this melodrama unfolding before her that I had to tell her to quit looking back at that table. She was having a great time with this, as she was getting “dinner and a show”. 

But … What are you going to do?

And I could hear the Eagles singing in my head ….

Somebody’s gonna hurt someone

Before the night is through

Somebody’s gonna come undone

There’s nothin' we can do

 (End of Part 1) Next: An Unexpected Response

Even the “Faithless” Have Faith

Faith is a peculiar thing. Even atheists have faith. Some atheists have more faith than you do. And everyone has doubts, although agnostics may have more than you. But agnostics have faith also. Because:

We are all faithful creatures – everyone has faith in something.

Either we were created by a supreme being and designed to have faith in that being, or ……

We evolved with a need to have faith in something, and that need was so strong that we have created mythical beings whose purpose is to be a receptacle for the faith we exude. This would indicate that faith serves some survival benefit which we haven’t been able to determine yet.

Either way, it would suggest that our need to place our faith in something is extremely compulsive, which means:

We are all faithful creatures – everyone has faith in something.

We know that faith is the component that connects us, or disconnects us, to a belief in a deity. Faith, or a variation of the word, appears 458 times in THE BOOK, and in almost every section of the most recent part. Faith here, is collectively described as one of the most potent forces in our lives.

Faith is essential because you cannot prove THE CREATOR exists. It must be accepted by faith, and the amount of faith you possess is important. Your belief can be supported by logic, but it still must be based on faith.

However, you cannot prove THE CREATOR doesn’t exist either. While this may be based totally on logic, it conveniently ignores the faith element that exists in every human. There is a great deal of faith needed to believe in evolution. Therefore, some atheists have more faith than members of the church choir. It takes just as much faith to believe in evolution as it does in creation.

But then, no one is absolutely sure about this question, are they? There is faith and doubt among everyone. If faith is the absence of doubt, then everyone has some faith, and everyone has some doubt; there is just a difference where it’s placed. So everyone should continue to seek the truth and determine where and how much to expound their faith because:

We are all faithful creatures – everyone has faith in something.

THE BOOK defines faith as: having the confidence that things you are hoping for will happen and having the conviction that things you cannot see are in fact, real.

And this definition is not limited to things in the highly spiritual realm but confirms that humans are faithful creatures in need of having faith in something. If you have issues with believing stuff from this source, may I refer you to one George Michael, not a religious chap, who says:                          

Yes, I gotta have faith
Ooh, I gotta have faith

Yes, he does, because:

We are all faithful creatures – everyone has faith in something.

It does take more effort, but not more faith, to believe in a deity. Non-belief, by its nature, is usually more passive. Of course, some will claim that this extra effort is proof there is no deity, but others will argue that the absence of effort is the reason for the unbelief.

The critical issue is that our innate drive to be full of faith causes us to put our faith in many things, such as money, possessions, people, politicians, jobs, lovers, movements, ideas, sports teams, humankind, etc. Having faith in something gives us comfort, happiness, contentment, calmness and helps us sleep at night. I guess this is a possible evolutionary reason for being faithful, even if it doesn’t explain how it got in us.

Of course, the problem with putting our faith in any of the things described previously is that ultimately, they all will let us down. They will fail, sometimes when we need them the most. None of them is truly worthy of our faith, no matter how strong our faith is in them. The betrayal, disappointment, sadness, discouragement, and depression we feel afterwards, can more than offset those psychological benefits of having faith in the first place.

But on THE BIG QUESTION, it comes down to whether you believe in creation or science. And I contend, it takes the same amount of faith to believe in either. So, atheists have a great deal of faith – just is something different than those considered “faithful” in the traditional sense. If we all realize we are all faithful beings, we can be less judgmental of each other and discuss our differences cordially.

You can even narrow the gap if you define it as “those who believe in science” versus “those who believe in the one who created the science”. Just don’t try the “but science is perfect” argument here, because it loses some of its substance in this context. And because no one has the answer, we should continue to seek out the truth and work out our faith.

The Conclusion:

We are all faithful creatures – everyone has faith in something.

If we are inherently driven to place our faith in something, then be extremely careful in what you put your faith into. And regardless of what turns out to be the truth, it’s still much better to place your faith in something intrinsically good, than in nothing. 

 

 

 

Faith Is Deep, Heavy Stuff

My previous post, “The Door,” details my struggles as I pray for something for ten years, and ultimately receive a positive outcome. I wrote it in the form of an allegory because this blog is not about me – it’s about you. Sometimes I must write about painfully personal things to give an example, which often makes me uncomfortable.

If I just told this story straight on, you would be tempted to think, “Wow, that Don is such a great spiritual man, doing all that praying and getting an answer. Or, if you are a detractor, “Look at him bragging about how his prayers get answered. What an arrogant blowhard.”

But it would be best if you didn’t look at it either way. I don’t view it as such. It’s kind of embarrassing to me. It took me ten years of praying for something that was not onerous, to finally have it answered. If I was some highly spiritual person, it should take nearly that long. Maybe I was not that faithful, but persistent. That I just kept knocking long enough that perhaps THE CREATOR took pity on me and answered the prayer. (I wrote this part before coming to the conclusion at the end of this piece)

How does it feel to get your answer after praying for something for ten years? It’s not as good as you may think. It’s like fighting a long war. Even if you win, the greatest comfort is knowing that the conflict has ended, not so much the victory obtained. And in this case, I still had to wait several months to be sure the answer would hold.

Yes, the fact that my prayer was answered did strengthen my faith in THE CREATOR, but it also produced doubt in myself. Why did it take so long? What is my status when it comes to faith? And this faith thing is probably the most mysterious aspect in this particular spiritual realm. I’m sensing that no one truly understands it. If some guru says they do, they are lying. It is the deepest, heaviest stuff there is.

There Are Levels Of Faith

A reexamination of THE MAN’s proclamation of:

Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

The example is figurative in nature. Comparing one of the smallest things the people were familiar with, a mustard seed, about .05 inches in diameter, to one of the largest, a mountain.

This passage is almost always presented and thought of in positive terms. Wow! You only need a tiny amount of faith to do great things. So, get out there and move some mountains. But in context, this is not an affirmation, but a condemnation.

THE MAN is explaining, maybe admonishing even, to his cohorts why they couldn’t accomplish the task at hand. The entire verse reads:

He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

So, the answer to my question: Why did it take nearly ten years to accomplish a very reasonable outcome? is precisely the same:

“Because you have so little faith.”

But now I understand, this is not the right question to ask. Because faith is not static. Perhaps, it is like the stock market, in that as you buy into THE CREATOR in thoughts and deeds, your faith increases. When you sell out those concepts, your faith falls.

Most of us overestimate our amount of faith. We compare our faith with that of others. If we perceive our faith to be greater than most, we deem it sufficient. We then justify there is no need for change, and we sleep well at night. But that is a faulty scale.

The gold standard, though, remains this:

Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

You may believe your faith is sufficient. That it has to be as much as the proverbial mustard seed, but: How many mountains have you moved recently? How many mountains have you moved in your life?

But we can’t give up, right? Because our faith is not static. You always have the opportunity to add to your faith, and when you do, some mountains move. Because the quote stated above is either true, or it’s not.

My question resulting from my experience from “The Door” post is not:

Why did it take ten years to get an answer?  

But something much deeper and heavier …..

Why was this prayer answered at that point in time? Or maybe, why was it answered at all?

Well, in “The Door” I talk about the devastating effects that happened around the end of year eight. Unfortunately, I cannot provide the details of this situation without violating others privacy. But a mistake was made, which had horrible consequences and severely damaged the process, wiping away any progress made previously.

Yet, despite the horrible results of this action, I was somehow able to see the one flicker of hope it had provided. In the 99% of darkness, I was able to see the 1% of light. And I acted quickly and forcefully. If you need a working definition of faith that you can understand – there you go.

At that moment, my amount of faith went from smaller than a mustard seed to equal to a mustard seed. Several months later, the door swung wide open. I was astounded at how easily the mountain moved.

But don’t think for a moment think I have this figured out. I still have mountains that I want to move. I just need a few more mustard seeds.

 

 

The Door

Knock and the door will be opened to you ……

This is such a simple statement. But is it a command, a suggestion, a promise, perhaps?

It is so basic that virtually all translations of the original read identical:

Knock and the door will be opened to you ……

However, like all statements from this source, it is simple and yet unimaginably complex – not wholly understood by the wisest, most intelligent human minds.

Regardless, some years a while ago, a person who I love faced a challenge. I did not believe it would be a tough challenge, but it was a big step for her. So, if the instruction is - Knock and the door will be opened to you ……

I knocked.

And it initially seemed as if the request would be promptly answered and the door would open.

But just as quickly as the door opened, it slammed shut. It was a false hope, appearing as a cruel trick.

We were back to square one, so I knocked again. 

But disappointedly, there was no progress. There was no answer - none. It seemed as if no one was home.

What’s wrong? Knock and the door will be opened to you …… I’m knocking. No one is opening.

In our flawed mind, we interpret the statement as “knock once,” and the door immediately swings open wide. But it doesn’t say knock once, and it also doesn’t say knock gently.

I knocked. I knocked. I knocked some more. I kept knocking - nothing.

This was highly frustrating because this is a situation where the longer it takes to succeed, the harder it gets to succeed. So, to me, there was pressure to have this resolved soon.

A year went by, and the door remained shut. I continued to knock.

The repeatedly unanswered petitions generated doubt. This request was good and pure and noble, and it wasn’t even for me. There was no good reason why this was taking so long. This whole thing should have been done by now. I could not understand why the door remained shut. Yes, I had doubts, yet I knocked still again.

After three years of knocking, there was some progress that generated much hope. I could feel the door loosening. There was a small crack, and perhaps it would open soon.

But then there was a setback. The door quickly shut, the lock securely clicking in place.

I stared at the door in disgust. Hope had been vanquished again. I was crushed.

And yet I knocked. I wondered what I lacked; in that I was knocking but the door was not opening as stated. But I did not lack faith. The act of continuing to knock when there is no answer is a sign of substantial faith. You only continue to knock on a door when you believe someone is home. I knew someone was home, yet there was no answer, and the door remained shut.

The knocking continued for years. However, as the frustration grew, the knocks became pounds and then two-fisted strikes accompanied by yelling, as desperation set it. “Are you listening? Can you hear me? Do you see what is not happening here?

It says “knock”. It does not say “beg”. Just knocking wasn’t working, so I begged for the door to be opened, but the result was the same.

And then there was progress again. Hope returned. The door had cracked open. I then did everything in my power to open that door. I ran and slammed against it with all my might. I pushed with all my strength. Trying this hard and failing was painful and exhausting.

Despite my efforts, the door would not open. It would not even budge an inch. Unfortunately, in this circumstance, partial success meant that total success was unlikely. There were now added barriers to getting the door opened. 

The next time I approached the door, metal bars were bolted across it and huge locks were wrapped around the doorknob. This door would not and could not be opened. I had tried everything to get the door open, but now the new circumstances had made it impossible.

It forced me to reevaluate the situation. The person most affected by the current state of things was happy. Everyone else involved with it was happy too. Therefore, I decided that I would have to become satisfied with it also. It wasn’t the outcome I desired, but it was a better situation than when it began. I would settle with what we had. I would come to peace with the circumstances. And … I would stop knocking.

Accepting this outcome was a process that took some time. After knocking for over eight years, settling doesn’t come quickly. Eventually, I was able to be completely satisfied and at peace. It felt good not having to knock on that door and free myself of the resulting worries and frustrations.

But then disaster struck. A terrible, unfortunate mistake was made, which caused the entire structure to come crashing down in an instant. The damage to the process was massive. There was no fixing this. There were consequences to this action that could be enduring.

I was devasted. I was distraught. I was distressed. It hurt bad and it hurt deeply. It was one of those all-encompassing emotional pains that you cannot shake. I was angry at all parties that had contributed to this mess. And I could not understand why just after I worked so hard to accept the situation, it had suddenly disintegrated.

I was in persistent agony for two days. Rolling the details around in my head in a torturous loop. As I surveyed the damage, I saw the door lying among the rubble. The bars still firmly attached; the huge locks fully engaged. But as I stared at the destruction, I had an epiphany – the door which would not open, had been ripped off its hinges and now was just a pile of waste. This disaster had destroyed the structure, but that impenetrable door was no longer an impediment.

Then I heard a voice say: Turn around

There was a new structure. I walked over to the door, which was the same as the original one, with no steel bars or heavy locks. I stared at the door, as I had an important choice to make. This is the acid test of faith.

It’s easy to walk away at this point. It may even be logical to walk away. However, faith is not easy – neither is it logical. It’s just faith, or it isn’t. Circumstances change. People change. Everything in this world changes except ……

Knock and the door will be opened to you ……

So, I knocked - and knocked again. And kept knocking for another nine months. Until, the door swung open. Just like I had expected it to nearly ten years prior.

Knock and the door will be opened to you ……

And keep knocking.