Balm on the wounds of life

By Jim Honeycutt

The convenience of remote start on my pickup, my friend, particularly on mornings of rainy conditions, I truly enjoy. And just this week, early as the sun was rising, I started my truck using my phone. My phone! From the comfort of my chair, I sent it a message. My truck responded by starting.    No thought on its part required. 

     Running out of the garage hurriedly, I quickly opened the door and jumped in. Mac Davis was on the radio singing, “Stop and Smell the Roses”. His song caused me to pause.

     Sitting in my truck, with the rain pouring down, needing to get somewhere, I put things on pause. For in the back of my mind, a thought was forming, a memory. I do love memories, so I sat still and coaxed it out. 

     High School, mid-seventies, sophomore year, and I am at campus early. I have come to hang out with friends before the bell rings and the day is given to teachers. Rainy drizzle, slight fog, and a chill in the air make standing out behind the cafeteria challenging. A couple of my friends have cars. They are not here yet….so I wait. My older sister has a car, but she is a senior hanging with her friends. So really, her car wasn’t an option. 

     A small pickup stops before me, a door opens with an upper-class student, Kyle Kasner, hollering, “You want out of the rain?” Without hesitation, I jump in. Mac Davis is on the 8-track singing, “Stop and Smell the Roses”. But it is only half the soundtrack….I realize it sounds strange; Kyle just starts laughing. 

     It is the days of quadrophonic sound, my friend, and if you don’t have the right system, you only get half of the performance. Depending on which channel you select (track), you might get voice, a little instrumental, or you might get vocal backup. Possibly just instrumental. 

     Kyle told me he had picked up the Quad version by mistake and was just dealing with it. It really was funny to me. I must share that over the course of the next few weeks Kyle, and I became more than just two guys who knew each other from school. Kyle Kasner, by his action of kindness, became my friend. And we got pretty good singing back up to Mac Davis. I haven’t seen Kyle since graduating, but the kindness he showed me on that rainy day is a centerpiece in my mind now. And I praise God for friends that give me joy. They are like balm on the wounds of life.

    Yet not every acquaintance from my past brings pleasant memories. I currently am hearing the voice and thoughts of a darker one, a mockery of God, a thorn, a pride-filled soul that reminds me of hateful words, hateful actions, and bullying. And yet I praise God for him also. For he reminds me that parts of my past hate my present. And my future is not tied to my past nor to his hate. My future is secured by a Hand I might not see, yet I feel moment by moment. I am covered by the one who opened His door, inviting me to fellowship.

     When the voices of fear tell me I’ve gone too far with Jesus, I know I haven’t gone far enough. I realize that the me of today doesn’t resemble the me of yesterday, but that’s exactly the goal! Long-time friends, my close friends that have grown in Christ, understand that we are not called to be Christian in name only. We are called to thrive in the new life we have been given. It’s kind of hard to do when your loyalty is divided. 

     When I was a child, I ran from bullies. And the older ones were most intimidating to me. But in Christ, I see the bravado for what it is…. I see the frustration… I see the fear of hopelessness… I see the hurting, wounded life in need of healing. And though I could block this voice, I filter its message through the Cross of Christ. And its fiery darts directed at me are vanquished. For when the Door was opened to me, I walked in…. Pausing only by the doorpost, as my ear was pierced by Jesus’ Mercy. I am too far along to turn back. I may hear only parts of the song being sung over me by my father. Yet I know the day is coming when he upgrades my receiver that I may hear all of it. For now, I walk His path, stopping to smell the Rose of Sharon. Out of the cold, out of the rain, in the presence of my friends. My true friends.