Hate

Hate is a curious thing isn't it? I mean where do we get it? And why are some people more filled with it than others? Is it taught?, perhaps shown? or does it just come from experiences that you have gone through in your life? A person close to me once stated that they believe hate is the absence of love. I disagree. Like Mike, I believe that ambivalence is the absence of love...but I do agree that the intensity that one can hate with is often strong, like love. Nineteen years ago Mike and I saw the most incredible counselor (for four years! Thanks Larry!)...where many of these types of topics came up. To this day though, I still struggle with hate. I think I learned hate at a very young age. "Love/hate" relationships truly MESS people up, or at least they messed and mess me up! I believe it all began with alcohol abuse and the affects it had on my parent's marriage and our family. I quickly learned to hate the destructiveness that comes from abused alcohol. It ruins relationships. It destroys trust. It hurts. And ultimately it leads to tons of other evils. Many of my items on my "hate" list are rooted in this beginning. I hate infidelity...on ALL levels…action, “looking”, thought, etc. I hate lies. In fact, I think it is my number one hate. My heart has no room for lies. Lying is the lowest possible thing you can do to someone. I hate all types of abuse. I hate that my mom was taken from this world so young. I hate all the time she ever had to spend alone, sick. I hate the way she suffered and the amount of suffering she went through, and that I was often not there to help carry her cross. I especially hate that I was not there to hold her during her last breaths. I hate depression and the dark affects it has on the ones I love. I hate cancer. This hate has caused me to come up with this hilarous, yet not so hilarous, list of absolutes. Absolutes that clearly, as seen on Willie Wonka, fall into the “good” or “bad” egg drop…never anything inbetween. Family reminds me often that life is not just black and white. My inability, at times, to see the vast collection of color in between the black and white is an effect of this hate and yet stems from it too. My struggle is still the same as it has been for years... hating the sin instead of the sinner and what do you do with that hate? It is so hard at times to not allow it to control you and your thoughts…something, mind you, that is absolutely foreign to Mike~ just not worth the time or effort. Why couldn’t it be that simple for me? No different than why can I not go to bed (or even sit down and enjoy a movie!) when the house is trashed with the happy-go-lucky attitude of “I’ll do it tomorrow.” This hate is part of the weight of the cross I bear, I know. I long to get to a place where I am willing and ready to lay it down at His feet.