Rock Writers’ Guild

We were so hopeful as we unpacked the boxes in our new townhouse apartment. Our possessions were few but that didn’t matter. We had escaped the streets of Newark, New Jersey and stood on the doorstep of new possibilities for our little family. The ghetto was merciless and no place to raise children. The mountain communities of South Orange and the distant suburbs Short Hills or Livingston showed us a more desirable reality. One thing was clear: the good life costs a pretty penny.

So we moved six hundred miles south to Wilmington, North Carolina. I thought, “Surely, here I can afford the house and a nice car and make a more comfortable life for all of us.” I believed that God led us to this city and that He would bless us. Hope buoyed us along.

Surprisingly, the niceties of life were not summarily handed to me. Economic reality blew in like a summer thunderstorm. Call it ignorance, naiveté or simple laziness to expect gifts to fall from the sky. Whatever colored my vision did not keep me from seeing that the dreams were become more elusive. The townhouse had now deteriorated with age. Our car grew old far less gracefully. Where was the hope of His promise? Why was His blessing being withheld? I was faithful to serve and give to the church. What was I doing wrong?

Months turned into years and little changed. I watched as others built homes, bought cars, took vacations and sent children off to university. For others, life’s options spread out like a harvest cornucopia. For us, the fruit of our labor was still slim. I tried to keep perspective and trust God for the best. But my trust was crumbling under a mounting weight. Resentment had set in against anyone who seemed to be flourishing. “I’m a Christian,” I told myself, “and I love everyone.” But anger fueled my resentment. I suppressed it, pushed it down into a dark corner of my heart and denied it expression. But because it did not speak did not cause it to leave…or to stop growing. I was a prisoner of full blown bitterness. It had taken root, like some malevolent vegetation gone wild, and threatened to turn and consume me. I was unaware of how truly tragic I had become.

While at my desk at work, I was listening to the radio. A voice came on: “See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.” I knew he was reading from the Bible, the book of Hebrews. He was talking about bitterness, about me. I was captivated as for the next twenty minutes as he unveiled bitterness for the evil that it was.  I literally trembled in my seat. Then, in an instant, a weight was lifted from me. I saw His grace and mercy and realized how great His love for me was. I rejoiced in the truth and reveled in my new found freedom. “Let all bitterness…be put away from you…be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:31-32)

Michael Porter © 2007