“Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” – Matt. 10:16
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My children have often called me gullible and naïve. As a matter of fact, the word “Mom” often had an exclamation mark behind it. Perhaps they are right, and here’s an example to prove that.
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In the 1990s I became friends with a young man who worked at the Owen Sound Public Library. He was an avid landscaper and had been designated to take care of the flower beds around the library building. He also maintained the flora inside the renovated Carnegie structure. Some of these plants stood in the rectangular windows sills of the rooms housing the books, while other plants lined the foyer.
The gardener and I became acquainted after my husband, Anco, and I donated a large Norfolk pine to the library. The tree was fingering the ceiling of our living room and we were anxious to find a good home for it. Our conifer species was received with enthusiasm and placed in the spacious foyer. I have forgotten the gardener’s name at this point, but remember that when I frequented the library, very often he would corner me to let me know how the pine was doing.
One day, when he was weeding outside, he called me over. “Christine,” he began, “I want to ask you a favor.”
“Sure,” I answered, smiling congenially.
“Well,” he went on, “I have some special flowers that need only a minimal amount of water. And I wonder …” He paused and I encouraged him by nodding. “Well, I wonder,” he continued slowly, “because I know that your husband is a veterinarian, if you would be able to get me some syringes. You see I could put water in them and squirt just a tiny amount of fluid into these plants. It would be a great help!”
“Oh, sure,” I replied, immediately sympathetic to the presumed problem in his foliage kingdom, “I’ll ask my husband and get back to you.”
“That would be great.” He beamed at me and I beamed back.
Upon coming home, I relayed the question to one of my sons. “Mom!!” he exclaimed, “Don’t you get it! That guy’s a druggie. He’s an addict. He’s trying to get his hands on some free syringes so he can inject himself with who knows what! You are so gullible!”
Later, upon hearing the request, my husband agreed with my son and, upon reflection, I came to the conclusion that they were probably right. When I met the man again, I gently let him know that I was unable to obtain the desired syringes for his plants. He shrugged and that was the end of it.
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Last week I was shopping at Zehr’s. It was late afternoon on Friday, on Valentine’s Day. Generally speaking, Friday afternoon is not the time I usually shop but there had been warnings of an impending storm and I thought it would be wise to get some groceries before the weekend. There were a lot of people in the store. I presumed that everyone wanted to get their shopping done before the storm hit and felt a common bond between myself and the other purchasers. There was a rather long wait in the line-up to pay as one of the customers had bought an item without a price tag on it. There were two gentlemen standing behind me, each with only one item in their hands. I noted them and briefly wondered why they were not going to the faster check-out, but it was only a passing thought.
After finally paying my bill, I pushed the shopping cart through the mall foyer towards the entrance. My car was parked in the first row across from the store and easy to access. As I had forgotten my cloth bags in the car, I had to transfer my groceries from the cart into the bags. Opening the front door, I deposited my purse onto the console between the front seats. Then the process of transferral began as I put the groceries from the cart into the cloth bags and into the back seat. Having done that, I brought the cart back to the sidewalk by Zehr’s and moseyed on back to the car. Opening the door and easing myself into it, I shoved my purse over to the passenger seat and was about to start the motor when there was a knock at my window. Startled, I turned my head. There was a man, a rather short and squat man, beckoning with the fingers of his right hand that I should come out. He then pointed to the back wheel of the car, the wheel on the driver’s side. Immediately I assumed there was something wrong with the back wheel – something which he had noticed while passing. I straightaway opened the door and hopped out. He walked over to the back wheel, and said something which I did not understand. You see, he was wearing a cream-colored scarf which hid his mouth. He was also wearing a big black hat. Consequently, I was only able to see the top of his upper lip and his chunky nose and rather small eyes.
“That man is cold,” I thought, and it surely was cold. “Pardon me,” I voiced politely, “but I didn’t hear what you said.”
He repeated himself, but honestly it was Greek to me and the scarf over his mouth didn’t help his pronunciation. He squatted down, and touched the back tire with the index finger of his right hand.
“Is it going flat?” I asked, squatting down next to him, “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“Leak,” he answered, as he lifted his finger off the tire before he reiterated, “Leak.”
“Leak?” I repeated.
He then put the worried index finger back down on the tire, which to my non-mechanical eyes, looked very healthy. But then what did I know? He then lifted the finger off the tire, waved it about a bit before putting it back down on the tire.
“Is air coming out?” I asked. “Is it a slow leak? Will it be dangerous for me to drive, do you think?”
In a far-off time, before there were cars, Augustine once said that we should be “innocent as doves that we may not harm anyone”; and “cautious as snakes that we may be careful of letting anyone harm us.” That is to say, we are not to be credulous, but we should be discerning enough to know that not all whom we encounter are who they say they are.
The man continued to put his finger on the tire a few more times and then stood up. He looked at me above his scarf face.
“Is OK,” he said, “Is OK.”
“Are you sure? Because I have a drive of about fifteen minutes to get home.”
“Yes, is OK.” I thanked him for his care in stopping because he thought something might be wrong. I told him that I thought this was very kind. Then I said goodbye, got back into the car and drove home. But all the while I was worried that perhaps the tire might have a slow flat coming in, all the while I worried about how to turn the wheel if the car would begin to swerve.
Upon coming home, I told my daughter what had happened. She told me not to worry, that my son-in-law would look at it when he came in. However, as I was putting the groceries away, I noticed that my wallet (always in my purse) was missing. My daughter helped me look and look we did. After exhaustively searching everywhere, we eventually phoned Zehr’s. Zehr’s surveyed their area, spoke to the teller who had checked me out, and then informed us that they were unable to locate the wallet.
“Mom,” my daughter told me, “I think you’ve been robbed.”
We then proceeded to phone both my bank and the Mastercard company. The bank put a marker on my account and the Mastercard company told us there had been four attempts on my card in the last half hour and a fifth had been successful in withdrawing four hundred dollars.
It is a blessing that Mastercard is the only credit card I use. However, my wallet was also home to my Social Insurance Number, my library cards, my health card, and my driver’s license. There was also more than one hundred dollars cash, postal stamps and photographs. That last item, though perhaps not much in the way of money, was important to me. Presently, I’m in the process of getting a new driver’s license, and have bought a protection called Equifax which protects a person from identity fraud. It’s all a far cry from Eden.
I think about the fellow wearing the cream-colored scarf. Was he poor? Had he just lost his job, as so many have lost theirs in the last year? Did he know the Lord? What partner helped him steal my wallet out of my purse when I was hunkered down thankful that a stranger cared enough to stop and warn me about a possible leak in my tire? Were these two thieves the men who had stood behind me in the checkout line? Had they been watching me as I punched in the pin number of my Mastercard?
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Believers do not have a life free from conflict. That is a fact. Jonathan Edwards said:
“Men that have their spirits heated and enraged and rising in bitter resentment when they are injured act as if they thought some strange thing had happened to them. Whereas they are very foolish in so thinking for it is no strange thing at all but only what was to be expected in a world like this. They, therefore, do not act wisely that allow their spirits to be ruffled by the injuries they suffer.”
If Christians expect to be taken advantage of, they will not be depressed when it happens. We are called to bear our injuries with dignity and hope in the providence of God – even as Christ did. Jonathan Edwards went on to say:
“As love to God prevails, it tends to set persons above human injuries, in this sense, that the more they love God the more they will place all their happiness in him…. The more they love God, the less they set their hearts on their worldly interests, which are all that their enemies can touch.”
There is no doubt that widows, widowers and all older and retired persons, should beware. There is also no doubt that it hurts to be taken advantage of. But Jonathan Edwards’ words are encouraging and put things into perspective. The two robbers could only harm my worldly pleasures. They cannot, and never will be able to, take the inheritance that is laid up for me in heaven. With the help of the Holy Spirit, I will look to God and love and trust Him alone. And He is faithful and will help me.
