But there's so much more to it than that, for me anyway. I am at once extremely merciful and compassionate, yet equally adamant about justice for wrongdoing. Not that they need to be mutually exclusive, but most times it seems like a person is one or the other. There is a specific situation I have in mind for this: take the example a woman in an abusive relationship. It’s just she and her husband at home; her children are grown. Yet she chooses to stay.
Part of me says, "Well, she's probably terrified and he's probably threatened her and she feels like staying is the right thing to do so no one gets hurt." (Compassion.)
The OTHER part of me says, "Toughen up! Do what needs to be done and get out!" And there is VERY little sympathy in THAT part of me.
Other instances: I'm sort of healthy for a sick person. I mean, my blood pressure, cholesterol, kidneys, liver, heart; all that stuff is just great. But don't ask me to walk uphill in the sand for more than 5 feet because my legs will give out and I'll fall.
I enjoy living in the country, most of the time. The open spaces, the country air, the gentle breezes. Watching my son grow up in a way which, in my mind, is the best way a boy can grow up. Room to run, frogs to catch in the pond, his faithful dog always a step behind him. Not having neighbors in your face. No noise pollution. Clearer skies to see the stars because it's SO dark at night. The amazing sunrises behind the barn. The sunsets right outside the living room window that demonstrate God's brilliant love for us.
But then there are the bugs. And mice. IN the house. And the 5 foot snake skin my husband found (still wet from its being shed) in our yard. And that it takes 10 minutes to get a store that doesn't sell BAIT next to the bread. The fact that a tractor is more important than a car. The smell. Of cows and grass and cut hay and dirt and dog poo.
And the noise. Whoever said the country was peaceful has never lived where I do. The roaring and clicking of crickets and other insects, and annoying dissonant chords of the tree frogs. The croaking of bullfrogs, and hammering of woodpeckers. And the birds!! I love watching them, but some of the most beautiful birds make the ugliest noise!
in the place of justice—wickedness was there.
both the righteous and the wicked,
for there will be a time for every activity,
a time to judge every deed.”