My back was against the bricks of the wall. My tormentor was surrounded by a group of supporters, but i had no one to stick up for me. Cornered, with nowhere else to run, I scratched at her arms with my fingernails and drew blood. In shocked but gleeful horror at the drama of it all, someone ran to tell the teacher that I had scratched Ethel. Fighting back was forbidden, no matter how badly one was provoked.
My memory of the incident is clouded by a haze of anger, but I remember that, when recess was over, the teacher shamed me in front of the whole class for fighting. Scalding tears of anger at the injustice of it all kept me from pleading my case. Not that it would have made a difference. One of my tormentor’s supporters piped up, “I know why you’re crying--because you hurt Ethel.” I was NOT crying because I hurt her. I was furious. I didn’t want to fight anyone; I just wanted to be friends and fit in with the other kids. It was futile. I never fit. This particular minister’s daughter was a year older than me, had it in for me, could talk faster and play out an incident in her favor when the adults investigated, and knew how to push my buttons--righteousness just tended to fall on her side when we clashed.
Many years have passed since we clashed in grade school, and today I bear her no ill will. We do not see each other often--just here and there in passing; but when we do, we say hello and inquire after each other’s families if time permits. But I will never forget the feeling of being cornered and helpless. I wish I had known then, that Jesus had my back.
Back then, it seemed that no one had my back except the wall I was cornered against.
God’s people are just that--people. The most well-intentioned can be so wrong. They can punish a cornered little girl for fighting and overlook the mob of little girls who backed her into the corner. They can boycott the girl scout cookies because of their “convictions” and rudely shut the door in the face of the little girls selling them. They can be so busy finding verses that say that homosexuality is wrong that they forget that each person, gay or straight, is a human being with hopes, dreams, hurts, and feelings like everyone else. They can come down hard on a teenage boy for swearing but not see the good heart underneath the “strong language.“ They can be so busy looking at his outward behavior that they cannot see how he needs the men around him to lead by example; to teach him what it means to be a man and use the strength God gave him to do good in his world.
As a law enforcement officer, my husband works in a dangerous job. He knows the value of working with good people who are trustworthy. People who will have your back when something goes down. It is not a kiddie playground spat; it could mean the difference between life and death. The bond between him and his fellow officers goes deep.
I always knew that was how it was for him at work...but it had yet to sink in for me, that he carried this into life in general. But then a situation arose where I felt caught in the middle and didn’t know what to do. It seemed I could not win. I faced anger from people I loved and wanted to please, but most of the anger was dealt out in conversations that took place behind my back. I had little chance to plead my case. I was cornered and frustrated again. To back off and remove myself and my children from the situation for a time, or ignore the hurtful things and pretend everything was fine? I did not know what to do. Finally my hubby told me that, no matter what, he had my back. He what? No one ever had my back. Consistently. But he did. Just like he would back up an officer at work, he said, he would back me up too. He trusted me and my judgment of the situation. Something in my broken confidence began to heal that day. It would be a long time before I could trust my own judgment without second guessing myself; but in my husband’s confidence in me--and his willingness to back up my decisions, I began to see a picture of Jesus having my back and taking care of me. Could it be, that I could trust Him to have my back too?
Finally it somehow hit home for me--after knowing in my head for years but never fully absorbing into my heart--that God is the One in Whom we can place our complete confidence. When I realized that I had been looking to everything and everyone else but Him, I began to see why I could never feel secure, never feel like I was worthwhile unless I had positive feedback around me, never sure I was doing right. But in a still small voice Jesus began to whisper to me, “I’ve got your back.” It is all through the Bible. It says it in words like,
“Lo, I am with you always even to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:20
...and from a psalm of David...
“I have been young, and now am old;
Yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken,
Nor his descendants begging bread.”
Psalm 37:25
And God began to remind me gently of the fact that I had never forgiven the hurt. How many times had I told my children that I didn’t want to hear them tattling on their sibling when it was so obvious that the tattler was not behaving as he or she should? But what was I doing? The same thing. Telling God how much they had hurt me while ignoring His command to forgive and to love our enemies. Afraid that if I forgave and stopped running from being hurt, that I would be hurt again. And again. But, while it wasn’t audible, the still small voice said so clearly in my mind:
“I’ve got your back. If I could say, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,’ while I was being nailed to the cross, how can you doubt Me when I ask you to forgive? Trust Me; I’ve got your back.”
So I can face the world...the hurtful stuff, the judgmental Christians, the hard decisions. There is no brick wall at my back anymore. The arms of Jesus are around me and He stands at my back.
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