YOU FOOL

YOU FOOL

I.  

I shall never forget his cold, harsh, cruel words.  I was fourteen, but no stranger to the touch of men.  I am not sure that I can even remember which was the first of my drunken dad’s friends to slip into my childhood bedroom.   But, this boy, barely older than me was a good friend.  I thought he was different, a good boy.  After we finished our first time, I whispered my feelings for him in his ear.  And, in disgust, and derisiveness, he recoiled, and blurted out, “… you little fool; did you think I love you?!  None of us do; we use you! … ha!”

And, use me they did – so many of them!  I just lay there, numb, and hum this tune in my head, “…He's a man  …  He's just a man  …  And I've had so many  …  Men before  …  In very many ways  …  He's just one more …”  And, then one day, you’d never guess who shows up at my door –  (well maybe you would?!)   –  a preacher!  And he started talking to me about “love” and God and … but, I interrupted him and blurted out with biting sarcasm, “You fool; do you think I could love?!”  To me “love” was about nothing but what I could get out of their wallets and what they could get out of me.  But, hey, I was willing to try anything, at least once!

The stares.  The glares.  The giggles.  The snickers.  I saw and heard them all.  The “good” neighbors were incredulous.  They could not believe what they saw.  He was too kind to tell me what the “good” neighbors whispered to him, but I heard, more than once – “…you fool, do you think you love her?!  She certainly does not love you; she’s just using you…”  Even my calloused heart was stung by their sneering glances.  I stayed with him.  Gave him a son.  Had a couple more kids – but I had begun to play around by then.  Who knows whose they were!  He just acted like everything was great.  What a fool.

With confusion written all over his face, I quizzically stammered, “you fool, do you think I love you?!”  I quickly left, him, the kids, our home, everything.  I had friends waiting for me.  They “loved” me, and could give me things that he could not.  (of course, there were things that only he ever gave me, but …)  I was off to parties and fun!  But, after a while, my looks faded; and their desire abated.  To make ends meet, I became a piece of meat.  There’s still a market for discount, out-of-date produce, even if somewhat blemished and spoiled.  The Johns came by regularly enough, for a while.

In my door stood my “boss” with a wad of bills in his hand.  (far more than I was worth, to my customers?!)  Then, behind him, there he was again!  I was filled with a confusing mix of embarrassment and anxiety and hope.  My “boss” growled, “… get out; he bought you for far more than I can make off you in a year!”  You cannot imagine what I began to wonder, “… you fool, I think you love me!”  But, I dared not believe such an outrageous idea.  But, thankfully and gratefully, I put my belongings in a bag, and followed him home; what a nice word, “home.”

Later, I discovered, far too easily, that the children, now grown, had angrily and hatefully rebuked him, “… you fool, do you think she loves you?!”  It broke my heart; but, sadly, I cannot disagree with them for being upset.  But, he answered, calmly, but firmly, “… that’s your mother… besides … I love her, fool though I may be.”  My daughter, in tears, told me this later, adding, “I want a fool who loves me just like he does you!”

Someday, I may tell her of my first night home.  Late that night, that old preacher stood under the stars, looking into the night sky.  He thought he was out of earshot, alone with his Maker.  I will never forget what he whispered to the heavens – “your stubborn child at last has learned… it’s as she said… ‘you fool, you do love me, even me!’ thank you for being patient with me…”

May we be such “fools for Christ” loving and loved!