Tonight I learned of the death of a man I knew from my childhood... a man who was kind to me at a time when not many people were being kind to me. I'm told by my mother that this man loved me very much, though I did not hear much about him for many many years... until tonight. The initial report on the news was that he was shot while driving his truck, and crashed into a garage. But the details I'm hearing are even more disturbing. "Butch," as we called him, is alleged to have been involved with another man's wife. Let us learn from Butch's folly. I'm being told that his head was blown nearly completely off, and next to his body lay a bouquet of flowers with a "Hope you get well soon, Butch" card attached. I have to admit, this certainly scores style points with that strict, dark, vengeful part of me. But what a tragic story about the end of a fool. A fool purported to have loved me. I'm quite disturbed and a bit conflicted about this whole thing -- I mean, you can't say the guy didn't get what he had coming, but grace and mercy and pity and sorrow should have a place in this story too.
Men, our Bible lesson for the night here at Confessions of a Raging Calvinist is:
"... whoso committeth adultery with a woman lacketh understanding: he that doeth it destroyeth his own soul. A wound and dishonour shall he get; and his reproach shall not be wiped away. For jealousy is the rage of a man: therefore he will not spare in the day of vengeance. He will not regard any ransom; neither will he rest content, though thou givest many gift." -- Proverbs 6:32-35.
Learn this lesson, men. Don't be this special kind of wicked fool.
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