Throughout last week, I felt a heavy weight bearing down on my soul. At first, I assumed it was formative guilt that had resulted from me blatantly doing stupid (stupid is a verb) last Saturday, (10/31) but I was wrong. Instead, it was me being supernaturally prepped for (what's now felt like) the inevitable.
Decades ago, when I was just a young whippersnapper, I stepped into a voluntary leadership role within our community here in suburban Jackson. It was a role that seemingly suited me well in light of my training / credentialing as an architect. Plus, I'm a Christian. As such, an opportunity to give back aligned perfectly with my values.
This leadership role thrust me into the mix with two other community volunteers, both of which were neighbors. And to me, this made the opportunity seem all the better for I knew nothing about either of these young men. Hence, the opportunity to "expand my community" (& hopefully make some new friends / share the gospel).
One of the two gents was a pothead. If you don't know what I mean by that, then bless your heart. Nonetheless, you must realize that the year was 2003 / 2004, and back then, I sure as hell didn't know what it was.
The other was a paranoid, procrastinating cheapskate who was quick to anger (infuriate) whilst harboring the deep shame of closeted homosexual desires. This guy was brilliant and ARROGANT / ENVIOUS through and through. And man, oh man, did this man ever have a love / hate relationship with Rob. For the majority of our time working alongside each other, I never knew what to expect from his volatile Dr. Jekyll / Mr. Hyde outlook. Initially, this was sort of interesting and fun to experience, but it pretty quickly turned creepy (especially when he began making moves that felt like stalking).
Therefore, taking this as described Motley Crue I'd been thrust into into consideration, I distinctly remember my determination to put on as objective a point of view / outlook as possible. For I was determined, in some form or fashion, to work together for the greater good.
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Now, let me add the following.
Of us three amigos, I was the papoose whereas their roles ultimately fell under my purview. And I liked that. Mainly because I was an architect, and architect's typically (& I'm certainly not) aren't team players.
To cut to the chase, a relational implosion occurred between 1/3 & 2/3 of us (you can probably guess who the catalyst was) which occurred on a Sunday afternoon much like yesterdays in Mississippi. And, I mean to tell you, it was ugly. Really uglier than anything I've ever experienced since in terms of being read the riot act.
And it was then that my first true enemy was FIRMLY established.
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To circle back to what I described from earlier last week, it was a heavy-laden and dismal-feeling six days, yet again, it had little to do with fallout pertaining to something I'd done in the past (recent or otherwise). Instead, it was a ramp up towards yet another juvenile run-in with my longstanding neighbor enemy (neither of us has relocated from our respective beloved community).
Saturday, (11/7) the aforementioned 1/3 (again, he was introduced to me 20+ years ago) took clear advantage of an opportunity to publicly voice his EXTREME (longstanding) DISAPPOINTMENT with Rob, and this was, by all means, his right to do, in light of me having returned (May '25) to the exact same community volunteer leadership position (Rob 2.0) I was in all those years ago.
And as I sat there, listening to him read me riot act 2.0, it was perfectly clear (to me at least) that his sweet revenge would never change the fact that it was my obligation (as a Christian) to sit there and take it. And I did, until he eventually ran out of steam.
Would I do it over again for a third time?
Of course.
Why?
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I woke up yesterday, (11/8) morning earlier than expected. And I felt immensely refreshed despite the circumstances from the day prior.
How?
The weight I'd felt throughout all of last week wasn't about me at all. Instead, it was for me. Like a shield forming around my vulnerable heart, it absorbed every last word of my longstanding enemy, and it did so to such a degree that it truly was if it never really happened.
Today, I am finding myself rewinding / revisiting some of my nemesis' words, but only in clinical terms which is absolutely no big deal.
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When I worked at Chick-A-Fil in high school, the Operator of the restaurant I had the privilege to work at pulled me aside one day to let me know much he admired my level-headedness. I can still recall exactly what I was doing (washing dishes after closing time) when he shared that with me, and it meant so much.
I chalk it up to my faith. Christianity provides not only the long-term outlook, but through Christ, we have the model of steadiness, faithfulness & deep-seated resolve that we can either choose to emulate or ignore. I believe our most affecting choice is the former.
In closing, I love men like my favorite author, Mr. Larry McMurtry, loved books. Therefore, even being forced to eat crow (yet again, but this time publicly) by my neighbor doesn't diminish the baseline energy captured within such the noteworthy masculine exchange.
Love it.
Please pray for my neighbor. Time is running out for his salvation.
