Two prostitutes during the time of King Solomon decided to have children. Both believed they were better off with a child who would be their support. Bearing a child meant for them hardship since they had nothing much to live on during the time they carried their babies in their womb. Nevertheless their future security outweighed everything else.
In due time they gave birth. Of course one child died. Its mother put the dead child by the other mother and took here child. She claimed it was her child. The two mothers quarrelled and took the matter to the wise King. The child’s mother let her claim aside when the king decreed that the baby should be split into two each part going to one.
Here we see a mother lifting her sorrow that passed into something sublime. The other remained eaten by her hatred. She invited herself a painful memory that would dog her to the grave. An orphan makes himself a double orphan by griping all his life against his orphan state.
In My Sunday Best I mentioned how Israel could have ennobled her tragic history when she was an outcast in Russia and Europe and many other places. Israel unfortunately has locked itself in its own past and thrown the key away. I do not think any one is going to search the key and give it back.
If I cannot make my experience however black, and embroider with hope, good will and tolerance I keep my life none the wiser. By making a change if I fail I shall know my limits. By pursuing a new way of giving it a certain color (worthy of me), I would have set a higher goal for myself. Perhaps it may become my reality and very much part of my being. Only I can do it. Why? Because I trust in God as the ulimate in goodness. Grace for me is the process it is not cut and paste job but genuine. Consider Joseph who outgrew his terrible past. When his brethren came for a hand out his friendliness was not put on. Instead it was his unshakeable faith in the Lord God.