*****I wrote this post a year and half ago.... a day or two after the incident. I am adding it in now so that it will be included when I have the blog printed in March.*****
This is all prefaced by another post telling about how the French people have had little respect for lines and pushed past us at any given opportunity- including pushing my children out of their way, and strangers picking up my baby. It got pretty old after all the lines we stood in…
So, we drove out of Paris (eating the most magnificent quiche and eclairs of my life) and on to Versailles to see the palace…
We arrived there and found that the parking lot was full (Ugh!)and that there was a long line of cars waiting to enter. As one car left, the parking attendant would let another car in…. So, we sat there waiting to get in. We ran through other options, but decided that waiting was probably our best bet. We waited for several minutes as they slowly and gradually let each car in one by one. And then, true to form in France, two cars came zooming up on the left of us, trying to cut in line in front of the car in front of us. There was a huge line of cars in front of us and behind us waiting for their turn to get into the lot. The car in front of us tried to edge the cutting car out, but the rude drivers pushed on through. Perhaps Matt and I were just fed up with people shoving past us time and time again. We had been waiting so long and it was so frustrating. The second car was going to try to cut in front of us. Matt edged up in our nice rental SUV, trying to show them that they weren’t welcome in front of us. But they were in a tiny little junker car and just revved their engine as if to say they had no intention of backing down. Matt looked at me and said, “I’m not going to crash into them.” Of course not, that would be ridiculous. But I guess something inside me just said, “We have been pushed aside for the last time today. They can’t just cut in front of us and all these other people.” And I got out of the car. In hindsight- that was probably my first mistake. I suppose I should have just turned the other cheek again and let these rude people walk all over us and everyone else in line. That would have been the more mature thing to do. But, sometimes, in the heat of the moment, I’m not the most mature person. So, I got out of the car and leaned toward them and said, “ I don’t know if you speak English, but all of these cars have been waiting a long time to get in to the lot, and it’s not fair for you to cut in front of us. So, I’m just going to stand here while my husband goes in the lot, okay?” The car was full of college aged girls, who were smiling and saying okay to me all along. And so I stood there. For about 1 minute.
Feeling content with my assertiveness, I think: “They see that they behaved badly and they are going to wait their turn, just like the rest of us.” And then I realized that the two cars who were cutting in line were together. The first car who had already succeeded was just ahead of me and the second car was waiting to cut in front of us when they time was right. At this moment, the girls in the second car were yelling in French to their friends and waving their hands in a motion as if to say, “Come here”. I half-heartedly hoped that they were just trying to explain to their friends that they would have to be split up because the second car wouldn’t be able to cut in line. Surely that is all they were saying , right?
And then my jaw dropped as I realized that the first car threw into reverse and started trying to back up into me. And then, the second car started driving into me. I planted my hands on the hood of her car and said “Oh are you going to run me down, right here in the middle of the street? Stop this right now! I have children in the car!” The first car stopped, but the second car kept trying.
So naturally, I decided to sit on her car in a display of my obstinance. And this is where you get to see a side of my personality that can be , well, shall we say, stubborn? I would not move. There was no way they could get up enough momentum to run me down in the space available. So, I just waited.
And then....
out of the first car, emerged a large girl with long black hair, storming at me and yelling obscenities. My face must have displayed my shock at her demeanor. Although I had been stubborn, I wasn’t yelling or cursing or even behaving angrily. Just firm and matter of fact. Right? At least that’s how I thought I was coming across. And then, the big girl pushed me into the second car. Hard.
Now, I’ve seen COPS and most outrageous videos and whatnot. I always watch these people and think, “What is wrong with them? Why can’t they behave like adults? I mean who breaks into a fight in the middle of the street over, …fill in the blank.” Perhaps I was not behaving like an adult by getting out of the car in the first place. It certainly wasn’t the most Christ-like decision of my life. But here is where my judgement gets worse. There was no moment of clear thought, no millisecond where I decided what to do. I felt threatened… ‘fight or flight’ I guess. The adrenaline must have been coursing through my body- she was trying to hurt me- her arms lifted to come at me again and…. my body just reacted:
I shoved her back. And then, all the sudden, without feeling as if I had made any decision to do so, I was in a fist fight in the middle of the street.
Now, you may be questioning my sanity at this point. As soon as it started, I certainly was. This was my second mistake. I should have just walked away. The rest was just a blur. I remember a whirl of activity in little snippets:
Her friends jumping out of the car and converging on me, at least five or six girls pulling and pushing me; The words, Love is …not easily provoked” running through my brain; Someone’s fingernails clawing down my neck; my fist connecting with someone’s jaw. Images of My children in the car; Hands pulling me, stretching me; my panicked eyes staring at Matt, who was jumping out of the car and coming toward me now; someone pulling my hair from behind; my foot kicking her in the stomach.
And then Matt was there. Time seemed normal again all of the sudden and I heard his commanding deep voice among all the shrill French banter, “Don’t touch my wife.” He reached out his hands pulling them off of me and all of the girls suddenly stopped. The one woman who spoke English said, “Is she crazy?” Matt , his arms around me now, replied, “Yeah- so don’t mess with her.” Everyone was walking away now.... Back to their cars.
A security guard arrived and began waving to the second car to go in reverse and back out. They just drove forward, past him and cut us off like they were the queens of Sheba. We filed in behind and searched for a parking spot as if nothing had happened.
It all seemed so ridiculous… how had that happened? Had my children really just watched me get into a fistfight in front of the Versailles Palace? What kind of a person am I? I never thought I could get into a situation like this. My face felt hot. I was shaking- my neck stung from the scratch of the fingernails. I looked at my children in the back, who were staring wide-eyed and asking why those girls were hurting me. My heart broke a little to think that they had been exposed to such a scene. I am a Christian, a mother, a teacher, for crying out loud. How had this happened? Where had I gone wrong? Was it so wrong to tell someone that you weren’t going to let them take advantage of you? Should I have just stayed in the car and allowed them to behave however they pleased, regardless of the impact on myself and others? I have had some time to think about the situation and I tend to vascillate between conclusions. Certainly, I should have stayed in the car and been meek and lowly of heart. Did it really matter so much if they cut in front of us? The other part of me, perhaps the one more governed by the natural man, felt wronged for the umpteenth time that weekend. Someone had to tell these people that you ought not to go around behaving so badly and inconsiderate of others. I read in II Timothy this morning, “And the servant of the Lord must not strive , but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those that oppose….” (v.24-25) Certainly I wasn’t a shining example of Christ’s love to these people. I replay the situation in my head over and over and wonder what I should have done differently. Perhaps we should have just waved them through. I suppose I should have just waved and smiled and said, “Come on in…”- that may have been the best thing to do. I don’t feel like I set out to get in a fight or even to do something wrong, but I could have yielded to the Holy Spirit rather than the natural man. I could have just allowed one more car to go in and I would have gone to bed that night feeling like an honorable person; even if I had been taken advantage of.
In case you are worried, we spoke to the children. They all found it very exciting, but were also very frightened that I might have been hurt. We explained the entire situation and that I was only defending myself when I struck back at the girl. I did tell them that I should have walked away once I had defended myself. As many of you know, Isaac has already struggled with bullies and, being so tender-hearted, has been a little more passive than I would like; allowing himself to be hurt when he is larger and easily capable of defending himself. So, we told the children that it is okay to defend yourself if someone hurts you and that you can tell someone not to hurt you. But we emphasized getting help from a grown-up or walking away from a fight. I hope that the situation taught a lesson rather than scarring them for life…
It is difficult to avoid the natural man. Much of me embraces the tenacious spirit with which the Lord has blessed me. In many respects I truly believe it is a gift from Him that has enabled me to resist some temptations and to endure trials. I do feel that I should use it for His glory and His good, standing for truth and righteousness.
Was it true that these young women should not cut in a huge line of people?
Certainly.
Was is righteous for me to get out and cause a scene?
I think not.
And therein lies the rub- submitting to His will rather than my own- as strong as that will might be.
No comments:
Post a Comment