Woe to Him Through Whom Offenses Come

Woe to Him Through Whom Offenses Come

Regina Russell

Brad Summers was an austere man who knew his mind and played his hand,
Close to the chest and gave no man,
No more than was his due.
His wife berated and forlorn, left him during such a storm,
Of words and threats and tried to warn.
Instead, his anger grew.
Now Brad continued in this vein throughout his years although his gain,
Was only heartache—it was plain,
To others, not to him.

Then he started to protest, the world around him—what a mess!
He claimed offense, he claimed duress,
And stirred up strife again.
For others had offended him, not on a chance, not by a whim,
"Deliberate!" he charged with vim,
And made his anger known.
And then the courthouse right in town,
Had to take commandments down
That their forefathers once had found
To be life’s stepping stone.

But poor Brad Summers wasn’t done, he saw the Christ-child, God’s own Son,
Depicted by nativity on public grounds for all to see!
"I am offended!" Summers cried,
I have my rights! And none denied.
For toleration was the way,
The tide had turned. How dark the day.

Seasons passed. Brad’s eyes grew dim but still none dared to offend him,
And then one night, with one last breath, he looked upon the face of Death.
Death smiled and coddled his cold soul, and told him lies that millions know,
Of angel wings and heaven’s doors but when he woke, he died once more.

For Brad now stood--naked, alone, before One seated on a throne,
He shook with fear he’d never known,
And dropped down to his knees.
"Forgive me!" he cried earnestly. I did not know—did not believe!
But now I understand my fate. Lord, tell me that it’s not too late!"
And then the words he’d not forget,
Throughout eternity’s regret, surrounded him as heaven wept,
------------------"You have offended ME!"-------------------