Our first son, Caleb, was just weeks old. We were exhausted, new parents navigating sleepless nights and the relentless unpredictability of colic.
At the time, we were part of an extended youth revival featuring a young minister, barely out of his teens. Talented and sincere, perhaps, but clearly enjoying the spotlight and the attention it drew. One evening, a group of us gathered for dinner, a break from the meetings. The table buzzed with chatter, captivated by the young minister's skilled storytelling.
Then Caleb began to cry.
My wife, already stretched thin, tried everything to soothe him, but Caleb’s cries only grew louder. Frustration mounted, nerves frayed. Suddenly, with misplaced authority, the young minister paused dramatically and said:
“If you can’t get that baby to stop crying, maybe I need to cast a devil out of it.”
Silence.
But not for long.
My wife, up until this moment, quiet and reserved, stood up fiercely in defense of her child. For the next several uncomfortable minutes, she made it clear exactly what she thought of his careless remark, his lack of empathy, and the audacity of his arrogance. Then she gathered our son and walked out.
The silence she left behind was heavy, awkward, and seemed to last forever. At the time, whispers labeled her as rogue, disrespectful, even out of control. Ministers back then held a nearly unquestioned authority; their words, however misguided, were rarely openly challenged. My wife's response didn't just break the silence; it broke very strict expectations.
I should mention that this minister, whom I've intentionally left unnamed, has gone on to build an impactful ministry that has greatly benefited the Kingdom. He is a good man. That night reflected just one moment for a very young minister still finding his way.
Years have passed, and perspectives have shifted. That was a different time, shaped by different sensibilities. Today, the young minister’s words would rightly be seen as insensitive, and my wife’s fierce response would be recognized for what it truly was: a courageous act of love from a mother defending what mattered most.
Perspectives evolve, our eyes open, and we begin to see differently. What once appeared to be rogue can later seem like courage. Be careful before passing judgment; the room you're sitting in today might look very different tomorrow.
Wisdom often waits on the far side of hindsight.
So tread gently, clarity has a way of arriving late.
Lord, grant me the wisdom in the moment to recognize that what seems obvious to me now might later be revealed as something entirely different. Teach me humility in judgment, patience in understanding, and grace in reflection.
"Do you see a person wise in their own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for them." (Proverbs 26:12)
If this encouraged you, would you share it with one friend who might need it too?
#FirstLightwithNate #Perspective #Courage