I Hated Today and I Didn't Like It.

I saw it all go down. 

A boy with a plastic cord in his hand cantered down the middle school hall. Suddenly the cord became a whip and he thrust it up in the air and slapped it down across another boy's neck. 

I saw the innocent boy cower in pain. I saw the bully laugh.

Enter my adrenaline. 

I shot up out of my chair and went after the culprit. On my way, I shoved my head in a classroom and shouted at the teacher, "I need help!". I didn't want to lose the bully amongst the massiveness of kids roaming the hall. I said, "Brown shirt, straight ahead at the locker, he hurt someone." When the teacher went after him, I came back to a hurt, angry, and not surprised boy. I'm guessing this is not his first physical and emotional wound.

All was handled well, justice prevailed in the direction of the principal's office. 

I sat back down as hatred filled my entire body.

Not at what happened. Oh no.

Hatred toward the bully.

Justified, right? Clearly the bully did this on purpose. Mean people suck.

And then it hit me. Hard. Instead of being angry and full of hate, I should have been broken with sorrow over the action. I should have wept at what was in this boy's heart to make him do something so cruel. I should have felt just as sorry for the bully as I did for the boy who was hurt. 

Without warning, I was overcome by a overwhelming flood of compassion for brown shirt boy. Who's been unkind to him? Who's hurt him emotionally? Physically? Such mean-spiritedness hides one's own wounds. 

So I started to pray for this broken boy. 

Enter my heart-transplant. 

Precious, made-in-God's-image boy, formerly "the bully", became the recipient of my prayers. He needs the unconditional love of a Father who heals for a living. He needs attention and lots of hugs. Taking a closer look at him through different Eyes, I saw he was unkept, and not doted on at home I am sure.  

Truth is there is plenty of this going on all day every day in the world we live in. May my next response be full of grief and actions that make a difference. Not hatred. 

An hour later as I was leaving the school, I saw the boy who was hurt coming out of the school office. I said, "I hope you feel better." He looked at me, said nothing, but cracked a small smile in my direction. You're most welcome sweet boy. 

Thanks for reading,
L.