Removing Mountains of Offense

by Mark Hamby

Recommended Reading:

True Faced; How to Act Right When Your Spouse Acts Wrong; Let Go by Fenelon; War of Words;

Families Where Grace is in Place; Sir Knight of the Splendid Way; Ishmael; Self Raised.

Woe unto the world because of offenses!

for it must needs be that offenses come; but woe to that man by whom the

offense cometh!Matthew 18:7

“William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury, once said worship is

submission of your nature to God; it is the quickening of conscience by His holiness, nourishment of mind by His truth, purifying of imagination by His beauty, opening of the heart to His love, and submission of will to His purpose; all of this gathered up in

adoration is the greatest of all expressions of which we are capable.”

I heard this quote from a woman who had been delivered from a lesbian lifestyle. Her

humility and love for our savior and her thankfulness for her deep deliverance

humbled me more than any other testimony I had ever heard. For a moment, I thought I

had been transferred in time, listening to the woman of Tyre of whom Jesus said,

“Woman, great is thy faith.” She summed up the Archbishops sentiments by saying, “I think it is about redemption, being used in

the hand of God to help other people.”

“And on the morrow, when they were come from Bethany, he was hungry: And seeing a fig tree afar off having leaves, he came, if haply he might find any thing thereon: and when he came to it, he found nothing but

leaves; for the time of figs was not yet. And Jesus answered and said unto it, No man eat fruit of thee hereafter for ever. And his

disciples heard it.”

Mark 11:12-14

“And they come to Jerusalem: and Jesus went into the temple, and began to cast out them that sold and bought

in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats

of them that sold doves; And would not suffer that any man should carry any

vessel through the temple.”

Mark 11:15-16

“And he taught, saying unto them, Is it not written, My house shall be called of all nations the house of

prayer? but ye have made it a den of thieves. And the scribes and chief

priests heard it, and sought how they might destroy him: for they feared him, because all the people were

astonished at his doctrine.”

Mark 11:17-18

“And in the morning, as they passed by, they saw the fig tree dried up from the roots. And Peter calling to remembrance saith unto him, Master,

behold, the fig tree which thou cursedst is withered away. And Jesus answering saith unto them, Have

faith in God. For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall

have whatsoever he saith. Therefore I say unto you, What things so ever ye desire, when ye pray,

believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.”

Mark 11: 20-24

"And whenever you stand praying, if you have anything against anyone,

FORGIVE him,

that your Father in heaven may also forgive you your trespasses.

But if you do not forgive, neither will your Father in heaven forgive your

trespasses." Mark 11:25-26

Children in homes where there is conflict or even alcoholism do better than

children in homes where there is divorce or legalism…

…as long as there is forgiveness.

Unresolved Sin

Involuntary Response

Inevitable Effects

Involuntary Response

Guilt Hurt

Sinned Sinned Against(real or imagined) (real or imagined)

Shame or Blame(false guilt produces the same and robs of joy; ie. rape)

(Not fair! Always ignites the nature of sin already in us. ie. Joseph, Daniel, etc.)

Inevitable Effects

Shame, Blame, Fear, Anger, or Denial

Shame•Shame leads to hiding•Hurt leads to blame and then to hate•Shame blinds you to your new nature and God’s nature. You loose perspective.

Adam saw his nakedness and he hid himself.

RemedyHope deferred…(Prov 13:12)

Hope makes us not ashamed (Rom 5)

HidingI was AFRAID, so I HID myself.

If the penalty for disclosure is the same as getting caught, why would I ever disclose my

failure.ie. Don’t respond to a child in his…

Hiding drains us. Requires constant vigilance and maintenance. Rest alone will not restore

or replenish this depletion. This leads to:

Blame•The woman you gave me.•The serpent beguiled me.

RemedyNot rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing: but

contrarywise, blessing…For he that will love life and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they

speak no guile: Let him turn from evil, and do good, let him sek peace, and pursue it. For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous and his ears… Bless them that curse you, do

good to them that hate you and pray for them who

despitefully use you and persecute you. (IPet 3; Mt. 5:44)

Controlling behavior, (Walls or Windows used to protect oneself),

isn’t a response to something happening in the present. It was

triggered by some sin in the past that never was resolved.

I Attempt to Control Others.It is impossible to submit to another, to trust another, or allow ourselves to need another persons love, when we have to be in control.

Control validates our rightness and our anger. Controllers elevate what they believe to be

right at the expense of anything or anyone. In order to market their claim on exclusive rights,

they defame the competition. ie. 1 14yr boys.

FearI was afraid, so I hid.

Fear removes the opportunity to be helped. It further entrenches us.

RemedyThere is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear: because fear has torment. He that fears is not made perfect in love. We love

Him, because He first loved us. I Jn.

1. I am unable to be loved or love.

2. I become vulnerable to wrong life choices.

3. I attempt to control others.

Unable to be Loved or Love.

Unresolved sin always causes preoccupation with our own lives. We become self

directed, self attentive, and self protected – unable to offer love to others.

Preoccupation with ourselves flames the ambers of distrust and restricts our ability to give love to others…we become takers not

givers.

Anger• And Cain was very angry.• And the Lord said to Cain, “If you do well,

shall you not be accepted?”

Anger brings an heroic sense of purpose to our guilt or hurt. It give us energy, explosive and

unpredictable energy that gives the appearance of freeing us, then enslaves us and drains us.

Distorts perspective: because I’m hurt, I must be right.

ie. Car in grass, Mother, quad, ad.Remedy

Be angry and sin not.

Denial

• Where is your brother?• I don’t know, am I my brothers keeper?

If we are the offender, denial allows us to deny that we’ve done anything wrong. If the offended, it allows us to deny that the sin against us has

affected us. “come on, you're making a big deal out of nothing. I said I was sorry!”

RemedyObjective truth of a third party will help you see the truth that can set you free. ie counselor.

“Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” Jn 2:16

“My house shall be called a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves.” Matt 21:13

“Behold! Your house is left to you desolate.”

Matt 23:38

“For in this manner, in former times, the holy women who trusted in God also

adorned themselves, being submissive to their own husbands,…

Husbands, likewise, dwell with them with understanding, giving honor to the wife, as to the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life, that your prayers may not be hindered.”

I Peter 3:5,7

• The hospital was unusually quiet that bleak January evening, quiet and still like the air before a storm. I stood in the nurses' station on the 7th floor and glanced at the clock. It was 9 p.m. I threw a stethoscope around my neck and headed for room 712, last room on the hall. Room 712 had a new patient. Mr. Williams. A man all alone. A man strangely silent about his family.

• As I entered the room, Mr. Williams looked up eagerly, but dropped his eyes when he saw it was only me, his nurse. I pressed the stethoscope over his chest and listened. Strong, slow, even beating. Just what I wanted to hear. There seemed little indication he had suffered a slight heart attack a few hours earlier.

• He looked up from his starched white bed. "Nurse, would you--" He hesitated, tears filling his eyes. Once before he had started to ask me a question, but had changed his mind. I touched his hand, waiting. He brushed away a tear. "Would you call my daughter? Tell her I've had a heart attack. A slight one. You see, I live alone and she is the only family I have." His respiration suddenly speeded up. I turned his nasal oxygen up to eight liters a minute. "Of course I'll call her." I said, studying his face. He gripped the sheets and pulled himself forward, his face tense with urgency. "Will you call her right away--as soon as you can?" He was breathing fast--too fast. "I'll call her the very first thing," I said, patting his shoulder. I flipped off the light. He closed his eyes, such young blue eyes in his 50-year-old face. Room 712 was dark except for a faint night light under the sink. Oxygen gurgled in the green tubes above his bed. Reluctant to leave, I moved through the shadowy silence to the window. The panes were cold. Below a foggy mist curled through the hospital parking lot. "Nurse," he called, "could you get me a pencil and paper?" I dug a scrap of yellow paper and a pen from my pocket and set it on the bedside table.

• I walked back to the nurses' station and sat in a squeaky swivel chair by the phone. Mr. Williams daughter was listed on his chart as the next of kin. I got her number from information and dialed. Her soft voice answered. "Janie, this is Sue Kidd, a registered nurse at the hospital. I'm calling about your father. He was admitted tonight with a slight heart attack and--" "No!" she screamed into the phone, startling me. "He's not dying is he?" "His condition is stable at the moment," I said, trying hard to sound convincing. Silence. I bit my lip. "You must not let him die!" she said. Her voice was so utterly compelling that my hand trembled on the phone. "He is getting the very best care." "But you don't understand," she pleaded. "My daddy and I haven't spoken in almost a year. We had a terrible argument on my 21st birthday, over my boyfriend. I ran out of the house. I--I haven't been back. All these months I've wanted to go to him for forgiveness. The last thing I said to him was, 'I hate you.'"

• Her voice cracked and I heard her heave great agonizing sobs. I sat, listening, tears burning my eyes. A father and a daughter, so lost to each other. Then I was thinking of my father, many miles away. It has been so long since I had said, "I love you."

• As Janie struggled to control her tears, I breathed a prayer. "Please, God, let this daughter find forgiveness." "I'm coming. Now! I'll be there in 30 minutes," she said. Click. She had hung up. I tried to busy myself with a stack of charts on the desk. I couldn't concentrate. Room 712. I knew I had to get back to 712. I hurried down the hall nearly in a run. I opened the door.

• Mr. Williams lay unmoving. I reached for his pulse. There was none.• "Code 99. Room 712. Code 99. Stat." The alert was shooting through the hospital

within seconds after I called the switchboard through the intercom by the bed. Mr. Williams had had a cardiac arrest. With lightning speed I leveled the bed and bent over his mouth, breathing air into his lungs. I positioned my hands over his chest and compressed. One, two, three. I tried to count. At 15 I moved back to his mouth and breathed as deeply as I could. Where was help? Again I compressed and breathed. Compressed and breathed. He could not die! "O God," I prayed. "His daughter is coming. Don't let it end this way." The door burst open. Doctors and nurses poured into the room pushing emergency equipment. A doctor took over the manual compression of the heart. A tube was inserted through his mouth as an airway. Nurses plunged syringes of medicine into the intravenous tubing. I connected the heart monitor. Nothing. Not a beat. My own heart pounded. "God, don't let it end like this. Not in bitterness and hatred. His daughter is coming. Let her find peace." "Stand back," cried a doctor. I handed him the paddles for the electrical shock to the heart. He placed them on Mr.William's chest. Over and over we tried. But nothing. No response. Mr. Williams was dead. A nurse unplugged the oxygen. The gurgling stopped. One by one they left, grim and silent. How could this happen? How? I stood by his bed, stunned. A cold wind rattled the window, pelting the panes with snow. Outside--everywhere--seemed a bed of blackness, cold and dark. How could I face his daughter? When I left the room, I saw her against the wall by a water fountain. A doctor who had been inside 712 only moments before, stood at her side, talking to her, gripping her elbow. Then he moved on, leaving her slumped against the wall. Such pathetic hurt reflected from her face. Such wounded eyes. She knew. The doctor had told her that her father was gone.

• I took her hand and led her into the nurses' lounge. We sat on little green stools, neither saying a word. She stared straight ahead at a pharmaceutical calendar, glass-faced, almost breakable-looking. "Janie, I'm so sorry," I said. It was pitifully inadequate. "I never hated him, you know. I loved him," she said. God, please help her, I thought.

• Suddenly she whirled toward me. "I want to see him." My first thought was, Why put yourself through more pain? Seeing him will only make it worse. But I got up and wrapped my arm around her. We walked slowly down the corridor to 712. Outside the door I squeezed her hand, wishing she would change her mind about going inside. She pushed open the door. We moved to the bed, huddled together, taking small steps in unison. Janie leaned over the bed and buried her face in the sheets. I tried not to look at her, at this sad, sad good-bye. I backed against the bedside table. My hand fell upon a scrap of yellow paper. I picked it up. It read:

• My dearest Janie, I forgive you. I pray you will also forgive me. I know that you love me. I love you too. Daddy

• The note was shaking in my hands as I thrust it toward Janie. She read it once. Then twice. Her tormented face grew radiant. Peace began to glisten in her eyes. She hugged the scrap of paper to her breast. "Thank You, God," I whispered, looking up at the window. A few crystal stars blinked through the blackness. A snowflake hit the window and melted away, gone forever. Life seemed as fragile as a snowflake on the window. But thank You, God, that relationships, sometimes fragile as snowflakes, can be mended together again--but there is not a moment to spare.

• I crept from the room and hurried to the phone. I would call my father. I would say, "I love you.“

• Guideposts Magazine, 1979.

Mark,About a month ago I emailed you because my husband had left me for another woman. Thank you for the books you recommended. I have finished "When people are big..." , I have ordered the ones you carry and I am still looking for "REKINDLED BY JENKINS"(this title is hard to find, do you happen to have an ISBN). Well, my husband and I talked several times over the phone and I expressed to him that I did not want him to come right back here from her house but I wanted some time for both of us to get counseling and give us some time separate before coming home. We have argued a lot over the past eight years we have been together (that is putting it mildly) and I wanted some time for us to change old patterns. My husband came back last Monday. My son and I had gone to the library and when we got back there was my husband unloading his car. He told us he was sorry and that he left her and he wanted to make it work. I asked him why he just came home and he said he wanted to see us.Part of me was very glad to see him but I was also angry that he came back without even talking to me first. Since he has come home he met with a counselor once (although he said it didn't do any good). He doesn't show a lot of brokenness. I want to be careful here because I know we can't see the heart but there is an arrogance there that I don't understand. He even told me I didn't have a choice, that I had to take him back because that is what God says for me to do. My parents, my sister, my brother (who is a pastor) all are telling me that I need to protect my son and not to stay around. Others i have talked to say I should be glad over every little step (including my pastor). Please help me understand. Am I to wait and just see what he does. Do I move out. Do I look at every little step as something wonderful even though there is a wall there that he has where he isn't even really repentant but just expecting me to take him back? I so want to honor God, but I don't want to be blind and not protect my son or not make boundaries for me either.I would appreciate any guidance. I am very confused and I don't know what to do.Thank you,