Simply put, I am not a confrontational person. I do not wake up in the morning itching for a battle on any front. When an argument begins—even if I am not a part of it—I’m uncomfortable. The last person you want in a heated debate is me.
You can find me on Facebook, but I’m not the guy with all the sarcastic memes on politics or even the life issue. Not going to happen. I might point to a powerful pro-life article and say, “A good read” (whew, makes my heart skip a beat just thinking about the repercussions!), but that’s about as far as I go.
Yet, we need those who are more vocal in their approach. Matt Walsh on The Blaze is someone I read often, and he rarely holds back.
Truth is, we need all kinds. We need those who are vocal and ready to pick up the figurative sword when necessary, and those who can pull us back from the brink when we are about to go too far. Neither of us should apologize for our approach if we always remember the one we serve and seek to represent Jesus with honor.
Jesus was often gentle with his words. But he was also direct at times, calling those who opposed him wonderful names like “snakes” and “hypocrites.”
For those of us who are somewhat reluctant, we must be willing to step out of our comfort zone and be more forthright, more direct. For those who love a battle, we need to recognize those times when we must step back from the brink.
It’s funny; when I was younger I had no problem with battles. I knew everything anyway, so all I needed to do was convince everyone to agree with me. Once that took place, the world would be right again.
Making things even easier, I surrounded myself with like-minded people. We could talk tough regarding the key issues of the day, never worrying about opposition.
As I grew older however, the real world interrupted me. Not everyone I ran across held my views. I remember sitting on a plane on a flight back to Nashville several years back (2008 in fact) and an attorney from New Jersey leaned across the ask me about how Tennessee would likely vote in the ’08 presidential election.
I was on my way home, catching what would be a terrific cold, and had no interest in discussing politics on a plane (and we thought “Snakes on a Plane” was scary). I gave an objective answer, trying to skirt things.
Yet somehow, this fella decided to talk about abortion. What the heck? Did I have a sign on my forehead?
All I wanted to do was sit in the back of the plane and get some rest. It wasn’t going to happen on this day.
Tweet This: Truth is, we need all kinds in the #prolife movement. @KirkWalden
I was civil. I was kind. But no, I wasn’t going to agree with my new friend, the high-powered attorney from New Jersey, on this one.
We went back and forth and though we never raised our voices, I thought the flight attendant might come back and ask, “Can you boys find another subject or do I need to separate you two?”
He peppered me with questions and I felt like the key witness in the trial of the century. All I could do was answer, then ask a few probing question of my own.
Finally, we landed. I thanked my pal for the conversation and he thanked me as well. We shook hands. I silently hoped he didn’t catch my cold.
Disembarking from the plane, I did what most men in my age range do; I headed to the bathroom (this was back in the old days when everyone knew which restroom to go to, but I digress). As I was about to head in, I heard a voice behind me.
“Sir!” The voice was unfamiliar and I looked back. A man and his wife were scurrying my way.
“Yes?” I asked. Please Lord, don’t make me do this again.
“Thank you for what you said on the plane,” the man said. “We were in front of you; listened to all of it. You did good.”
I smiled. Sometimes, God uses the reluctant to move His message forward. For this, I am thankful.
