Insensitivity, part two

1 Peter 4:8

We’ve been talking about the tragedy of insensitivity in relationships. Parental sensitivity rates desperately low these days. It’s part of the fall-out of our rapid pace. Solomon tells us that our children “make themselves known” by their deeds, their actions. He then reminds us that we have ears and eyes that ought to hear and see (Proverbs 20:11–12). But again, it takes time to do that. And again, we’re “too busy.”

Insensitivity, part one

Galatians 6:2, 10

My kids pulled a fast one on me one Christmas years ago. They teamed up, pooled their vast financial resources, and bought me a little motto to set on my desk. It was more than cute...it was convicting. In bold, black letters it read:

DIETS ARE FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE THICK AND TIRED OF IT

At first you thmile...then it makes you thad. Especially if you’re not thick of being thick!

Suspicion

Galatians 5:15-17

If the truth were known, there’s a secret “detective spirit” in most of us. With the best of the paperback and television detectives, we vicariously probe for motives, analyze the evidence, and ponder the killer’s next move. Our curiosity forces us to investigate things that are just slightly irregular.

Getting involved, part one

Luke 10:30–37

Kitty Genovese was brutally attacked as she returned to her apartment late one night. She screamed and shrieked as she fought for her life...yelling until she was hoarse...for 30 minutes...as she was beaten and abused. Thirty-eight people watched the half-hour episode from their windows with rapt fascination. Not one so much as walked over to the telephone and called the police. Kitty died that night as 38 witnesses stared in silence.

Ultimate rejection

Psalm 147:2–3

A number of years ago, on Valentine’s Day, a couple was enjoying a romantic drive along a wooded section near Belle Chasse, Louisiana. Something white, shimmering in the trees, caught their eyes. Their investigation led them to a dead teenager hanging from a limb, a white bedsheet knotted tightly around his neck. A farewell note, laced with despair, was near the trunk of the tree. It was addressed simply to “Mom and Dad.”

Envy, part two

Philippians 4:11-13

Shakespeare called it “the green sickness.” Bacon admitted “it has no holidays.” Horace declared that “tyrants never invented a greater torment.” Barrie said envy “is the most corroding of the vices.” Sheridan referred to it in his play The Critic when he wrote, “There is not a passion so strongly rooted in the human heart as this.” Philip Bailey, the eloquent English poet of yesteryear, vividly described it as “a coal [that] comes hissing hot from hell.”