Me or the HS?

 Fifteenth Friday after Pentecost

My colonoscopy went great. I had no polyps, for the first time in the last three colonoscopies. Having had an excruciating awakening in the middle of the colonoscopy four colonoscopies ago and in general requiring more of any kind of drug to have effect on me, I received more anesthetic than they give the average person (12.5 instead of 10.3--although I don't know what those numbers mean). The aftereffect is that I'm still I'm still not quite over the anesthetic. I do think that I'm sufficiently coherent to write this blog. I hope you will agree.

Friday is anything-can-happen-day on the blog, but I'm hoping it won't.

On Monday I blogged about an experience I had last Saturday, an encounter with a woman wearing a t-shirt with an AR-15 assault rifle on the front. You might want to re-read it, if you don't remember the details. 

In that blog I simply told the story, all facts, no commentary. I was hoping I might get a comment or two but didn't.  Today I'm going to give my commentary. 

The Outer Banks are not Chapel Hill. The standard vehicle is the pick-up truck. The bigger; the better. Although the Confederate flags have just about disappeared, the fact that they were abundant five or six years ago is telling. I have seen one other person in an AR-15 t-shirt and one incredibly large pick-up truck with a huge AR-15 flag streaming off the back. That flag had on the other side the coiled snake with phrase "Don't tread on me." This does not reflect the entirety of Dare County, but these are sights you don't see in Chapel Hill. 

When the woman said to me in a deeply sarcastic tone, "Don't you just love people," (do re-read Monday's blog--entitled "I had a good day"--for the fuller context), I answered, "Yes, I do love people." After her subsequent silence, I said, "I really do love people." 

What I didn't fully explain in Monday's blog was my tone of voice. I said it softly and with a sincere and caring smile. I'm not sure that that would have been my normal response. I suspect that my normal response would have been just a non-committal "Um," and then I would have walked on. I was a little puzzled afterwards with what had actually been my response. It just didn't seem like it was quite me. I don't really know how to explain it. During further reflection that day, I wondered--if it wasn't quite me, who was it? I concluded that maybe it was the Holy Spirit. I remembered what Jesus said in Mark 13:11, "Say whatever is given you at that time, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit." Jesus was speaking in a very different context, speaking of when the apostles might be persecuted and put on trial. I was not being persecuted, so maybe Jesus' words don't apply to me in that situation. Or maybe they do.

I wondered about the woman. Did what I said and the way I said it make any difference for her? Or was it simply something she quickly forgot about? I don't know at all what's in her heart. I know that she had a husband and two small children. I assume that his thinking is similar to hers. I didn't think it was an appropriate t-shirt for her or anyone to wear, and especially to wear in front of her small children. Yet I realize that I shouldn't be too judgmental about these things. 

I also wondered whether I would have said the same thing to her husband, if I had encountered him instead of her. I did see him and say hello. He was a big, muscular guy with a crew cut and had just been in a loud argument with a guy in a truck. 

In any case, I felt really good about what I had said and the way I said it. I felt that it was a small Christian witness. I do make that same walk with my dog Pretzel fairly frequently when I'm in Manteo. I wonder whether I'll see them again.

Faithfully,

Christian