On my first day of 5th grade, I was seated next to a boy named…we’ll call him N, on the off chance that he ever sees this. 
N had a dirty mouth. We are talking Dir. Ty.
Every other sentence was riddled with nasty words…every bad word you can think of…repeatedly. Every single day.
All day long.
Imagine the “fun” he had when he learned that I couldn’t stand his excessive swearing.
(And really, I don’t think it was that I’d fully learned that I shouldn’t talk dirty yet…I think any normal person would have been sick of it after five minutes.) Anyway.
He took every opportunity he could to make me mad…and eventually he resorted to calling me some of those names.
Sometime around October…since I’d been putting up with it for weeks…I decided it was time to administer some justice. (After all, I was a cop’s daughter…I knew all about justice, right
? :)) I took my elbow and I jabbed him. Hard.
I learned quickly that this jab would shut him up for a few blessed, peaceful minutes. And so I used it as my tactic for bringing some san
ity to my day.
Eventually we switched seats, and thankfully, he moved on to share his wonderful language with another poor, unsuspecting student. Although I silently rejoiced that I no longer had to sit by N, I felt sorry for the student who now had to put up with him.
Imagine my surprise when we switched seats a few months later…and who did I get the utter privilege to sit by again?
You guessed it.
And he hadn’t changed a bit.
Thankfully I had a tried and true method and I wasn’t afraid to use it.
Multiple times a day I would take my elbow and jab him as hard as I could once he got going on his swearing rampage.
A couple times he even said, “Ouch!”…and oh, the joy I felt.
Until one day…when I wasn’t careful enough.
Just as N finished calling me yet another name, I let him have it.
And Ms. S. saw.
Oh boy, did I get it.
Yeah, that’s right. I got it. Not him. Me.
I don’t remember what the punishment was. I think I got my name on the board and had to write sentences or something.
But what got me about the whole thing was that I got in trouble.
Wasn’t I just doing the right thing
?
Well, that’s subjective, I guess.
And I have to be honest here…a tiny bit of me still flares up when I think of that moment and how justice was served to one person, but not both. I am sure that I (and probably others) informed my teacher of exactly why I was using the elbow jab. But it didn’t matter. Physical violence was not tolerated.
I guess the school hadn’t yet realized that verbal can be worse.
So the whole idea of justice…yeah, it came up in my life at an early age.
But what does it mean exactly?
Justice. God tells us to do it–the version of the Bible I grew up with words it a little differently…to do justly. I don’t think He meant that I should repeatedly use my own form of justice to punish someone, though.
Every night Tobin and I pray for Maelie.
We have a list of 31 character traits, and we pray one for her
each night. Last night was justice…and I couldn’t help thinking of this story as I prayed for her.
What do I pray for her in terms of justice?
Well, first off, I never want her to be treated unfairly.
(Mommy hat on here…) I never want her to treat others unfairly. I want her to learn that when we do wrong there are consequences to our actions; but on the flip side of that, she should know that there are rewards when we obey…and that God rewards those who obey as well.
I want to be an example of that in Maelie’s life. When Tobin and I have an argument, do I treat him justly or am I unreasonable? When I get frustrated or upset with something do I react in an appropriate manner or do I lash out? Sure, she’s not old enough to understand…yet. But I’d rather not wait for the day she can understand to make sure that my thoughts, words, and actions toward others are just.
And I think that’s where the other parts of this verse come in…love kindness (mercy) and walk humbly.
(Parts 3 & 4) God knew what He was doing when He wrote that verse.
When we do justly, kindness and humility should be the products from our actions.
If I could go back to that situation in 5th grade, knowing what I know now, I would probably handle it differently. (Chances are the school would, too…now that bullying is an actual issue that is being addressed and not swept under the rug. But that’s not the point.) Regardless of how I was treated, my actions should have displayed kindness…such as ignoring him or trying to talk to him; and humility…not creating drama (who, me? :)) by continually elbowing him.
Ah, the lessons we learn much later than we should.
I don’t know where N is today…but I hope a lot of things for him–the obvious, that he’s cleaned up his mouth and his life. But more important, that he’s found forgiveness and hope.
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