Truth, in all its rightness, hides. I want it to be as straightforward as those old worksheets, “Write F for Fact or O for Opinion.”
Tears stream down her face and she can’t speak. “Moom, (hiccup) she said she wishes she wasn’t my sister.”
I sigh knowing what is coming. We’ve played this scene so many times and I can’t make the ending change.
I console the tearful one while trying to discover her role in the skirmish. “Nothing, I just picked up her iPod. I gave it back when she asked for it.” Okay, perhaps tween emotions had gotten the best of big sister.
Five hugs later, I find big sister. “What just happened between you and your sister?”
“Mooom, she took my iPod and I asked for it back three times. She danced around the room with it and wouldn’t give it to me. She is so annoying.”
“Did you tell her you don’t want to be her sister?” She looks genuinely shocked. Hmmm. Usually, the older one is the most reliably truthful. Who is the best actress here? Eyes are making direct contact.
“I would never say that. ”
Over and over again these two are unable to agree on what happened (light bulb: maybe I should sit them together on the couch and not allow them to get up until they both agree on the script of the fight?) . Who is lying? Who is confused? Who isn’t listening? Who is assuming? As the official referee, too often I don’t know how to call the penalty.
And yet, as I write I realize , the obvious truth of Christ eludes people we love, who hear the same sermons, read the same scripture, grew up in the same house. Our response? It shouldn’t be my characteristic angry frustration, but prayer, the unlocker of truth, the veil lifter.
Joining Lisa Jo and word lovers for a five minute ( I think mine was more like 7 minutes today…oops) write on Truth. Join us?