We were all having a lovely time at the rugby, supporting family members who were playing. One family member was telling off another family member for playing dirty. She said he might have gotten a yellow card for his manoeuvre and the way he dropped his shoulder whilst he stood firm and the other player bounced off him. He said it’s not his fault if someone wants to run right into him and fall over. Besides, he smiled and waved at the ref, apologising and taking a few steps backwards to show there were no evil intentions and the ref let it go. So it landed up being a sort of foul but not really.
Why is it possible to have so many sort-of-fouls in life? Why is it so easy and common for people to misunderstand one another? We are so complicated and there are so many grey areas. We are just never going to stop learning, are we?
I thought I had grown up a long time ago, but even I committed a sort-of-foul at the rugby. I wasn’t playing, of course, although I did once, when I was in high school. I fell and hit my head minutes into the game and went off seeing stars and that was the end of my career.
No, this wrong doing happened at a spectator’s bench. We were all enjoying our view point, the grounds absolutely jam packed with supporters, when a lady walked up demanding to know where her coat was. Apparently I was sitting right where she had booked her place, and now her coat was lost and her blankets had also been moved about. I looked around for the coat, which was no where to be seen, and then the lady proceeded to reapply her blankets and rebook her spot on the bench, muttering loudly about how this was her seat first.
I didn’t know you bought rights to public benches with your coats and blankets and my feathers were more than slightly ruffled.
I was being squashed into an ever smaller space, and instead of just shifting up a little and putting all of my children onto my lap (and letting other people behave badly on their own) I let everyone know that I was going to move since “some people need their space!” She made some wise crack and said she wasn’t asking me to move and I said “yes, but there is no need to be so rude!” ‘I’m not being rude!” she shot back and I might have told her off properly then, but I reversed, huffing and puffing, with pram and toddlers and picnic basket falling apart. I had no plan whatsoever as to where I was going to find my new spot and was causing a proper little commotion.
People were saying: “you can sit here” and “take my place” but no, no, rude people must be taught a lesson and I was going to teach it. I, finally, got behind the bench and stood there a while. We couldn’t see the field anymore and so I passed my little ones up to the top to sit by their aunty and then I tried to climb up the back side but failed. So I sat on some steps behind the crowd and ate broken biscuits because we’d dropped the packet quite a few times. Mature hey?
Teaching people lessons is exhausting and unless we are in control of our own self, nobody is going to learn a thing
Oswald Chambers in ‘My Utmost for His Highest’ says remember that His honour is at stake in your bodily life. Whether we are playing a key role in the game or sitting cheering from the sidelines, we are being watched. We are not only teaching the younger generation how to conduct themselves but we are ambassadors for Christ. When people see me, do they see Him?
Not at the rugby, that’s for sure.
Blush, blush
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