It doesn’t matter what “they” do. Lesson 1 of 40

It doesn’t matter what “they” do. Do what’s right because it’s right.

Day 1.jpg

At the beautifully mature age of 23, I declared “I do, for better or worse.” Unfortunately in my mind, the early days were more for “worse and a little better.” Of course, Tahnya and I were still detoxing from society’s infection with Disney “happily ever after” ideology.

Our first summer together, we worked at Camp Lurecrest in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I was suffering, having to be the boat driver and head male counselor. (sarcasm included). But my wife and I had one of our tiffs, and I remember walking the hills, complaining to God about the woman he had given me. Stop smiling. It was a painful moment. Stay with me.

In one of those moments where eternity spoke into my heart, I heard a voice, or a thought, or what I identified as the Voice of God, speaking to me.

“Charles, it doesn’t matter what she does. I told you to love her.”
But… then the justifications come in. “Yeah but, she…(insert justification). ” Yeah but they… (insert sob story). “Yeah but you don’t know what he did.” (always sounds funny saying that to God doesn’t it?”)
Love. Serve. Give. Sacrifice.

Because it’s right.

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Whether they do it to you or not.

12 thoughts on “It doesn’t matter what “they” do. Lesson 1 of 40”

  1. “I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by means of settlers about many a firing in Aeternum.

    He waved to a expressionless tun apart from us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar first continuing.

    “As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a honourable speck of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the capitulate slung across my back.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.