Die On What Hill?

From my earliest memories, I can recall having a strong sense of right and wrong. I was a child and a young adult that could become so focused on the details that the big picture would fade into irrelevance. When I perceived that something just wasn't right, I was like a dog with a bone -- gnawing at the thing until it could no longer be ignored.

Once during a drawing class, I lost my corrective lenses. These couldn't be replaced immediately as I was an impoverished student at the time. The result was that I was left trying to render images of a model I could barely see. To my chagrin, the teacher was thrilled with the result. Because I could no longer see the details of the features, I was forced to focus on the stance of the model, the play of the light and the general 'feel' of the form before me. Before, my renderings had been tight and controlled. Now, they were loose, intuitive and calligraphic. I was forced to reflect upon the image as a whole. My nearsightedness meant that I had to look at the big picture, because I could no longer gnaw on the little details.

Why is that important tonight?

It's important because I find that I care for good people that get hurt. These aren't self-destructive dolts that go out and enjoy their 15 minutes of fame by chasing headlines. Rather, these are good people that do good things for good reasons and are falsely accused. The indignity of it -- the wrongness of it -- makes me want to stand up and proclaim THIS IS NOT RIGHT!

These are the individuals that reach out to the least of these. They are not afraid to offer hope to the hopeless or defend the defenseless. The very ugliness they stand against, they are accused of promoting.

I am tempted to wrestle with the false accusers. I want to refute them line for line, and I could . . . but then I remember that art class. I ask myself, what is my focus?

And the reality is that sometimes it's just fun to beat them at their own game. It's satisfying to watch the bad guys fall, to jump in the fray and hand it back to them enjoying the momentary victory.

What IS the focus then?

The people I most admire and respect are not great individuals in their own merit. Rather they are great because of the One they serve. I so admire and respect them because I know that they do what they do because they want to redeem the time, to reach just one more person, to make an eternal difference for just one more family. They are less concerned with what anyone thinks of them than they are with what others think of their message -- their message of hope.

When I look at the big picture, the details fade from view. I realize they are right. It's not so important that they have the respect of strangers. What's important is that they have a platform from which they can share their story of hope. . . Not that I can refute all of the lies, but that I can share the truth.

My friends are consumed with the mission of reaching a lost and dying world for Christ and being allowed to share the truth.

Once upon a time, I would have been shouting from a mountaintop about how this is NOT right. I would have been telling anyone who would listen how these people are good people and demonstrating that the negative stuff is taken out of context, or outright lies.

That was then, though. With time, you learn that all details aren't worth quibbling over. That some hills aren't worth the loss of life to take. . . . And that the message is more important than the assorted messengers.

This is one I wish I'd have learned sooner rather than later.