for when you've been slimed

I'm in the chair. The air smells funny. It smells like there's false friendliness underneath her pasted on smile.  I tell her what I'd like corrected from last week's appointment. She pauses, like a cat before the pounce, while staring at the reflection of me in the mirror in front of us. 

Then, her words slide off her tongue like butter, but underneath is something like a knife that gouges me in the spirit. I instantly feel it--that smell--the smell of being spoken to condescendingly. I feel it. This feeling like being pushed down on the playground or being told by your best friend to go to hell for no reason. 

In my spirit I cock my head to one side, and ask myself if she's just subtly punished me. Her words appear like light, but they are dark and they've cast a gray shadow over me. I'm embarrassed initially. Hurt and angry all at once for being there. But, I say nothing. She initiates chat about surface things while my spirit is feeling slimed and dragged in the mud and if it weren't for wanting things done right this time, I'd walk out. Now.

This is not a new experience for me. The experience of subtly being made to look like the bad guy for nothing I've done wrong. Slimers don't take the blame for their own wrongs. They attempt to throw them on you so maybe you'll carry them and they'll feel scott free. Repeatedly in the past few years I've needed to go to the light of Jesus' face so He can remove the slime--others' and mine. 

Going to Jesus' lit face is mostly not easy because my flesh wants to throw the slime back. I want to throw the slime back onto the slimer instead of bringing the filth to Jesus to wash off. Every fiber in my being wants to retaliate. To fight back. To demand justice.

It's times like this that I remember once again that Jesus is my Defender and Vindicator. He has a way of paying me back when wrongs are said and done to me. His in-the-light-way of living is what I want. Even over the momentary gladness of seeing the slimer squirm under any possible comeback I could come up with. I want the eternal reward. The invisible but very real reward of a clear conscience. Of a peaceful heart knowing I've followed his way and stayed in his Light. Even when it is hard.

1 John 1:7

but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.

I'm linking up with others at Imperfect Prose on Thursdays
at emilywierenga.com. This week's prompt is LIGHT. Join in!