Oh boy, did I learn something about humility a few days ago. At the front desk, the clerk handed me an iPad to self-register before the lab would draw blood for one of those Covid-19 blood tests.

“No big deal,” I told her and sat down to enter the data. But it became next to impossible when I started to scan my government-issued identity card and my primary and secondary insurance cards on both sides, no less.

Banging away at the keyboard with the iPad positioned on my lap came naturally. Using it as a scanner – taking pictures – of my ID cards was torture. More about that later. But first …

In ‘Christ Is Our Peace,’ I share the entire Papal Message delivered by Saint Pope John Paul II on Christmas Day 2001. It’s a classic; poetry that reaches the heart, mind, and soul. WOW! Consider reading the entire poem. It’s a quick read.

Here’s a short passage:

“Christ, ‘the babe wrapped in swaddling cloths
and lying in the manger
‘ (Luke 2:12),
is indeed our peace.

A helpless Newborn Child in a lowly cave
restores dignity to every life being born,
and brings hope to those overcome by doubt and discouragement.

He has come to heal life’s wounds
and to restore meaning to death itself.”

Back to the sitting room at the lab!

Try taking a picture of three wallet-sized ID cards on both sides – placed on your knee – using an iPad as a camera? Impossible!

I moved to a chair with a side table to my left. I placed the cards on the table. I was too macho to confess that I was disabled to sit and twist my body to complete the task, with multiple trials and errors in retries. Mission accomplished! I triumphed at the expense of tweaking my spine. I pulled a muscle. It hurt. I was angry and lost my composure. (Not long ago, I was struck by a car while riding my bicycle and endured multiple surgeries.)

With iPad in hand, I stormed back to the front desk and proclaimed to whoever wanted to hear or not, “here it is. I will not ever do this again,” to which the stunned receptionist replied, “you will have to … our new policy,” which intensified my fury, that caused her to cry. I ended the episode by broadcasting, “I don’t have to take this … I can go somewhere else.” I then declared, “cancel the order! I’m leaving.” The next day, I realized that if I humbly said, “I need help, I can’t do it, I’m disabled,” I’m sure they would have scanned the ID cards for me.

Never mind that I’m still trying to cope with my disability. It’s a reality. I must overcome my machismo. I’m no longer the athletic ‘me.’ I don’t give up. I go to physical therapy five times a week. I tell my friends jokingly, “if this continues, I’ll look like Tarzan in six months from now.” (I guess I can’t too effortlessly let go of that ‘macho’ within me; oh well.)

Serendipitously, the very next day, I came across the work of Irish poet Pádraig Ó Tuama. He helped me go through my ‘conversion process.’ Here’s an excerpt of his poem:

I was the embodiment of, Too much zeal is not good.‘ (Proverbs 19: 2)

As time went by, and my zeal wisened a little, I knew I needed every conversion:

               Conversion to courage.

               Conversion to change.

               Conversion to challenge.

               Conversion to safety.

               Conversion to life. 

Conversion — if it means anything —  means more than one thing.

               It is a process, a conversion towards the good.

               It is an embrace of the possibility of change and the future.

               It is a difficult companion.

               It is a rewarding companion.

               It calls us again and again throughout life.

 

Pádraig Ó Tuama‘s poem reminded me of what Saint Paul said to the Romans:

               19 …  You can readily recall, can’t you, how at one time, the more you did just what you felt like doing – not caring about others, not caring about God – the worse your life became and the less freedom you had?

               And how much different is it now as you live in God’s freedom, your lives healed and expansive in holiness? (Romans 6: 19)

 

A quote from my book:

               Real and sustainable peace begins in the mind and heart, in the will and soul, because peace arises from genuine appreciation and respect for the other.

               Peace is a conscious decision to improve relations. Do everything possible to overcome tensions and misunderstandings. If possible, become friends.

               Peace is the fruit of love. It is ‘give and take,’ a dance with life, for life.

 (Prologue: Let’s Get Radical – Be Kind; Sub-section: Teach Me, Lord, What You Want Me to Do; Page 46; Kindle Locations, 357-358).

Read more: ‘Christ Is Our Peace.’

 

With Every Good Wish to You, I am,

 

Sincerely,

Building the Bridge Foundation, The Hague

 

Abraham A. van Kempen

Senior Editor

 

* ‘Christian Zionism … Enraptured Around a Golden Cal” (2nd Edition)

www.surrenderIsraeltoGod.com

www.buildingthebridge.eu

e-book version  $  3.33 (2nd Edition Available on Amazon)

Paperback            33.30 (2nd Edition is Temporary out of print)

A Theo-geopolitical eye-opener expounded with conviction, common sense, and compassion. With 500+ references, ‘Christian Zionism … Enraptured Around a Golden Calf’ pits the Holy Trinity of Zionism – One Tribe, One Land, One God – against the Holy Trinity of Christianity – ALL people, ALL nations, indeed, glorifying the one ‘I Am’ with many names.

Be sure you order the 2nd Edition, published in 2019.