Yes, it's true, I almost exploded on someone last night. They had been less than compliant with the rules and regulations and when I confronted the person they began accusing everyone else for their infractions. Generally speaking I take those opportunities to let the person 'hang themselves', but some some reason I just got mad; plain old down right 'hot'.
It may have had something to do with the term they used to describe the others conveniently brought into the conversation in an effort to deflect the subject of going to the strip clubs in the area on their time off from work. I detest the use of the word "Bum" when it comes to describing another person in the same circumstances. Some people are "bums", but not in this case. The ones that sit by the off ramps and wave signs all day long and take their ill gotten gains to the motel at night and live the good life off of other people's tender heart; those are the Bums with a capital "B". By the way, I recently heard that the average income for that type of panhandling is over $70,000 per year. Remember that the next time you pull up to a stop light and the guy or gal walking up to your car is wearing a $100 pair of tennis shoes to keep their feet from hurting because they stand on their feet all day collecting your money. Just for grins, arrive about sundown and follow them to where they are staying and really get an eye full.
One of my good friends did just that and watched as a man got into a BMW after changing his shoes and his jacket and then watched him drive away, dialing his cell phone.
The conversation ended as soon as the man finished venting about how hard he has it in the Program House since he has been here. I listened quietly and when he stopped talking I asked him if that was all and he said, "yes", waiting intently for my response.
"Okay, I'm ready to go", I said in a matter of fact manner, and walked to the door, opening it for him.
"That's all you have to say?", he asked with an odd look on his dirty face.
"That's all I have to say tonight", I said, "but I'll have a lot more to say when we meet again with Pastor Bond tomorrow."
The confrontation was over but the anger lingered all the way home. I did my best to 'talk around it' once I arrived, but I ended up sharing my displeasure with my beautiful wife and she listened, knowing that I needed to 'get it off my chest'. Aren't wives wonderful?
I only share this to give you insight into this crazy world of recovery and readjustment, where I find myself putting feet on my faith and reaching out with all that is within me.
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