Bitter Medicine

I have a friend who is training to be a policeman. One of the things trainees experience is the sting of an officer’s taser. The idea is that once deputized the new officers might not be so quick to tase college students, political protestors or their wives if they understood how much it hurt.

My trainer at the athletic club is good about modeling the exercises that he is teaching me. It is obvious by his cut and build that he participates in a similar athletic regimen. He doesn’t ask me to exert myself in any way that he doesn’t do himself.

Most teachers I know are masters of their areas of expertise and are thus qualified to mentor a class of students.

But then there are some people who offer advice that they have never actually applied to themselves. It reminds me of my childhood doctor who was spooning in mouthfuls of awfully tasting liquid while my father held back my arms and my mother pried my mouth open. The stuff didn’t go down easy. I may have needed the medicine, but I sure didn’t like it. Maybe the trinity of my childhood health care providers would have been a little gentler with me if they had sampled the syrup themselves.

So today I was faced with a disheartening proposition. A faction of friends had been scheduled to give me some feedback regarding the fracturing of our fealty. Yet the feedback was to be one-sided and the designated rules of play included one set of downs for the red team, but none for the black and blue one. It was hardly what I had hoped for and had already proven to be excruciatingly humiliating and hurtful.

Like the psalmist, I cried out to the Lord for help. “God, it doesn’t seem fair that I have to take medicine from those that I perceive to be sick. Can’t I just spit the medicine back at them?”

But God didn’t answer my prayer in the way I requested. He knows that the medicine my friends have is good for me. He also knows that it is bitter. So he sent me some sugar to help it go down a bit easier.

A friend showed up unexpectedly, to entertain the way that angels often do. And due to the fact that I was hurting she let me tell my story first. I was reluctant to share details as I knew she would be reluctant to hear them. She pressed in to my thoughts, my feelings and my concerns. She asked the right questions and it brought me to tears. She uncovered that I felt betrayed, that I was dealing with unforgiveness and that even though these medicine-giving friends meant well I had very little hope that it would provide the cure for what ails us.

And then I realized who I was talking to.

Without sharing with you too many details of her story, I realized that she had been horribly betrayed by death and adultery, and though she had miraculously worked through forgiveness she had no hope of restoration since her spouse had died. But my friend has not stayed a victim to her pain or a prisoner to her shame. She has moved forward with her life after learning how to swallow life's bitter remedies.

So after a hug and a prayer she sent me on my way to the doctors’ offices with a dose of humility and a prescription of hope. I’ll swallow the bitter medicine and though the world may not change, I will heal.

Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don't try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.
- James 1:2-4, The Message