Day 17: Prophet life

I often get bogged down reading the books of the prophets. With the exception of all the visions of social justice and beautiful descriptions of Jesus in Isaiah, my experience with the prophets are books of doom and gloom and are generally not that uplifting. The prophets had a tough job. They had to speak up and speak out against the pop culture of the time. They had to tell leaders that they were wrong and immoral. Can you imagine someone publicly laying into Steve Jobs about a particular flaw in his character? They had a special boldness and conviction that gave them the fortitude and courage to carry tough messages at tough moments in history.

I had my own tough moment this morning. It was 6:30. I was barely awake. I heard Ulrich and Andrew in the living room and Eddie calling out "Mama" in the distance. I knew it was time to roll my tired self out of bed and start another busy day. Luckily, it was Friday. Workout day. My phone rang. My homeless friend on the line. It was a wall of anxious words. I took a deep breath. She gets herself worked up like this from time to time and I usually have to spend a good hour to talk her down. Eddie was clinging to me wanting his morning time. It took me a while to even get her coherent enough to understand what the issue was.

Piecing it together, I realized its the first of the month. Her welfare check came. She's stressed about not having an apartment yet. She's tempted to drink. She wants me to come get the money so she doesn't mess up. I throw on some jeans and get in the car. I meet her in front of the liquor store where she's hanging out with some homeless dude. She hands me the money, except for one twenty dollar bill. As if I wouldn't notice. "Give me that last twenty." I said. We went back and forth. She refused. Finally, I knew I wouldn't win. "Ok. If you go in that store, don't call me this weekend, I don't want to deal with this." I said. She turned her back and walked in.

Deflated I started the drive home. Then, I got indignant. She had dragged me out of bed and away from my kids because she needed help. An binge of drinking would set her back at least a week and she needs to keep it together if she's going to get into an apartment before the end of the month. I turned around the car and stormed into the liquor store. I grabbed the bag of booze off the counter. "This is not ok." I said. She went off. It was a 30 minute tirade and she was nearly ready to fight. I held my ground. It didn't end well but I had stated my word and I had stood my ground. I spoke truth.

It is so hard to confront. Gently, lovingly, firmly, spiritually stand with truth and testify. It is part of our call. To speak up. Even if our words fall on deaf ears.