Being perfect is not something I have ever professed to be. I try to be quite honest with myself about my weaknesses, yet often we can be blind to our own stuff. Every day when I read the Bible, I take notice of the rebukes of scripture as it relates to my fleshly notions. When I pray and spend quiet times with God, I try to listen to the still, small voice of Holy Spirit warning me and convicting me. My desire is to be right with God and in cordial relationships with other people.
I do not believe I am a particularly difficult person, nor do I enjoy confrontation as some people tend to do. I usually take a fair amount of gruff before I bark back, but occasionally, I feel shoved over the line, and I bark. “Woof!”
If the person to whom I am barking is one who has been around me for some time, they are thrown off balance because it seems out of character for me. In times past, I thought being a gruff curmudgeon may have been an easier life because people get used to your barking and say, “Aw, that’s just the way he is. Don’t pay him any attention, he’s always barking about something!” I try to be selective in my barking.
I bark a lot in my head—internalizing things is probably not the healthiest thing to do. I do not like trouble, so I tend to walk around a mud hole than walk through it. God wires us all up a little different. There are pros and cons to each of our personality wiring schematics. I do not expect you to be like me; so, don’t expect me to be like you.
I like being around people and typically think of myself as a people person, but I may be wrong. Often, being alone in solitude is my peaceful place. I am very comfortable being in a small group of people, I am reasonably comfortable speaking to hundreds, and I am most comfortable being in a hammock under trees with only a barking squirrel. If the squirrel cusses me, least I don’t know what he’s saying. I think I heard one call me “a rotten piece of sapwood” one time; he sure was tasty in dumplings. Back to my treatise: Existing eighty percent of the time as a hermit and twenty percent as a public figure would suit me fine.
I love conversation. I love being with my family. I love speaking. I love storytelling. I maybe could have done a side-job as a comedian. BUT… I love reading a book in quietness for hours. I love working on projects by myself. I love writing. I love being alone with God!
I like texting and emails more than talking on the phone. Talking on the telephone is not one of my favorite things to do. If you need to talk with me, do not be afraid to call—I usually answer all my calls. I rarely freeze people out electronically. Just be warned, if you call me, a few minutes after I say hello, I will be looking for an exit ramp!
However, I have spoken for hours in person and on the phone with people who I thought needed help. After I hung up, I was emotionally drained. Call me if you need me; God called me to be poured out!!
If you receive a bark from me, don’t despair! I am not eternally your enemy, today you just pushed me too far. Tomorrow, we will be fine. I hope I forgive louder than I bark. I did not intend to hurt your feelings and you probably did not intend to push me over my barking limit. Do you know, I can love you even though I do not like all your ways? I pray you love me though some of my ways drive you crazy.
Life happens! Love, kindness, and forgiveness need to prevail in our lives. None of us are perfect. We all get on people’s nerves. Look for the clues when people are getting close to their barking limits; back off and give them some space. Even nice people bark when you back them in a corner—they may even bite!
And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. (Ephesians 4:30-32 NKJV)
Warning, this old hound still has a few barks left in him. Even though he has a few molars missing, his canines and incisors remain–he might even bite!
Yours on the Journey,
Harry L. Whitt
[I know I broke all sorts of grammatical rules by using “I” in the beginning of sentences. Also, this post is too narcissistic for my taste, but I didn’t know how else to write it. “Woof, woof!”]
Pathway Journey 