HURT PEOPLE HURT PEOPLE

Agnes was back in the good old days, when her parents were still alive and they were having dinner together on the dining table. Just the three of them. Her mother brought the last plate to the table and her father's eyes lit up like those of a child on Christmas morning. He complimented her cooking even before tasting it and her mom rolled her eyes playfully. Then her father took her left hand in his and her mother's own in the other as he bowed his head to pray.

"Thank you for this family Lord. Thank you for your love and light that shines so brightly here. May it continually be so. May we always be the perfect family..."

The perfect fami...

A pungently familiar scent wafted across Agnes' nose, interrupting her happy dream. It grew stronger and stronger, working it's way into her nose, then throat, until...

"Achoooo!" She sneezed her way back into reality.

As she pried her sleepy eyes open, the familiar surroundings of her hostel room began to form in her vision. A middle sized bed with blue bed sheet and red pillow case, brown cupboards, buckets of water, clothes strewn everywhere, a reading table overloaded with books...

"I said I'm coming! I am already leaving my hostel!"

...and of course, Clara. Her noisy roommate.

Agnes was about to rub her eyes, angry that she had been so rudely woken up, when her eyes caught something.

"Is that my spray?" She asked Clara, who was just finishing a call.

"Ermmm" her roommate stammered guiltily, holding Agnes' spray bottle in her hand.

"Why are you using my spray?!" 

"Sorry, I just wanted to..."

"Keep it back." Agnes snapped back angrily. She hated when people used her stuff.

"Relax," Clara eyed her. "I just used a little" 

"Is that supposed to be your sorry? 

"Why would I say sorry when you're shouting?"

"Why won't I shout? You are using something that isn't yours for goodness' sake." Agnes hissed.

Clara frowned "What's your problem?"

"My problem is you, okay?!" Agnes retorted. "Stop using stuff that isn't yours."

"But this is just the second time I'm using something that's yours. The other time, I really needed to cook and I couldn't find the key to my cupboard so I used your pot instead. And I washed it when I was done."

"It doesn't matter if it's the first or second time, Clara. Just don't use my stuff without asking me."

"Okay fine, but why do you always sound so angry? Did I offend you?"

Agnes ignored her question.

 "I don't get it. I thought you said you're a Christian." Clara commented, leaving the room, obviously hurt.

Clara's last words stung Agnes deeply. She closed her eyes as Clara's words replayed themselves in her heart over and over.

I thought you said you're a Christian

I thought you said you're a Christian

Sadness overshadowed her. How could she have acted like that? What exactly was wrong with her? It wasn't just Clara that had complained of her easily getting angry. Many people had, but she had never taken them seriously. Now however, she wondered how she had allowed herself to get this cold, distant and angry at the world.

The reason wasn't far fetched. She had not yet healed from the death of her parents that happened a year ago. It was an incident that had snatched happiness out of her life and placed her in a state of constant pain. And slowly, over the months, she had allowed the hurt she felt inside transform into anger at everything and everyone.

"God, I'm sorry," she sighed, "I'm sorry for being a bad representative of You. Yes, I'm still pained from my parent's passing away, but I don't need to transfer that to others. Forgive me for my rude behavior Lord. Help me to surrender to you as you continue the healing process in me, and give me grace to show your love to others around me, despite my pain."

Agnes felt something leave her in that moment, as she surrendered her pain and bitterness to God. The dull pain that came from remembering her parent's death was still there, but her chest felt much lighter.

 As she got out of bed, the Holy Spirit reminded her of one simple truth: Hurt people hurt people. And if like the unbeliever, you let your bitterness take over, then "where dwellest the love of Christ in you?"