03/09/2004: "Michael, Michael"

By Carol J. Warren

Michael was a little boy that was very over weight. He didn’t talk about it much but it made his life difficult at best. All the other children picked on him and called him names. He was an easy target and besides Michael never fought back.

When he went to school the bullies were always waiting for him. They would push him around and demand money or the goodies he always carried with him. No one wanted to be his friend. He was always the last one picked in sports at school and everyone including the coaches, laughed when he had to run. Worst of all even some of the teachers would make snide comments about him in front of the class, as though he deserved to be punished for being over weight and it was something he had done on purpose and could easily change if he just would.

His parents only made matters worse. His dad was always trying to get him to work out. He thought Michael was just a couch potato, but the truth was Michael just hated to see the look in his father’s eyes when he saw how little he could lift or what a struggle the smallest task was for him. Though his dad never said it in words, he said it a thousand other ways; Michael was a major disappointment.

His Mom was always trying to make Michael feel better by baking his favorite cookie or treat but then she would always act disappointed at the amount he ate. Food to her had always been associated with comfort and it was all she knew to do to help her sad son feel better.

Michael didn’t go outside and play when he got home. It was not that he didn’t like to be outside and it was not that he didn’t like to play, he just got tired of getting his feelings hurt and the neighborhood kids laughing at him and calling him names. Fatso they would call out, or they would call him Porky snorting and making pig noises. Even if Michael were playing quietly by himself they would come pick on him.

But there was one thing Michael liked to do though that was his special time. Michael loved to fly kites. His father taught him how to make kites and even gave him his own little space in the garage for his supplies and his collection of kites. He was glad to see Michael involved in something that required getting outside. Michael had collected kites from all over the world but his favorite kite was a very beautiful kite he and his dad had made from scratch. It had taken a very long time to make. They had done a great deal of research at the library to insure it was made just right. It had a long flowing tail and it glided easily even when there was very little wind because it was constructed so well.

Michael would go to the field behind his house. The other kids would not see him there. Then he would run and fly his kite. When there was no one to laugh at the way he looked when he ran, Michael actually liked to run. He would pant and puff smiling as his kite mounted like an eagle high above the earth. Often he would pretend that he was a great bird flying where no one could touch him. Michael was very skilled at maneuvering a kite and could reach into the clouds if the wind was right.

This had been a particularly difficult day for Michael. The bullies caught him on the way to school, calling him names like fatso, making ugly pig faces at him. They had taken his homework and ripped it up saying, explain this to the teacher, as they laughed and ran on to class. They were right, the teacher never believed him. She thought he said these things about the other kids because he was jealous of them. So she punished him making him stay after class and write sentences on the black board. When Michael got home, his mother had been called and was very upset with Michael. He started to explain but decided no one would believe him anyway, so he just said he was sorry and wouldn’t do it again. He made a mental note to make two copies of his homework from now on.
His mother had given him one of those, wait until your father gets home speeches and let him go. Michael went for the only comfort he knew, his kites. Today he would fly his favorite kite and it would take him high above all his troubles. His dad did not like him to fly this special kite without him because it was one of a kind and he wanted to make sure it was properly taken care of. But today was different. Today required something special and only his best kite would do.

Michael ran as fast as could to get the kite started. He found that if he started at the top of the hill and then ran down the hill he could get more speed. Sure enough the kite did not disappoint him, for even though there was very little wind this day the kite mounted higher and higher as though it knew Michael need something special today and was going to perform well just to cheer him up. Michael ran winding the kite string in then letting it go, keeping the line taut for the best performance. He became so involved with seeing how high he could reach today that he failed to notice how dangerously close to the trees at the edge of the field he was getting.

He was soaring and for just a moment everything was ok. Then as though the kite was slapped from the sky it began to fall straight down. It must be a little whirlwind thought Michael as he pulled the string quickly trying to get it to come away from the trees. But it was too late; down it crashed into a large oak tree. Michael ran winding his string quickly as he went. At first he didn’t see the kite at all, then he saw it in the crook of a tall twisted branch.

He couldn’t be sure from the ground but it looked ok. Gently he tugged the string moving it first this way and then the other, trying to coax the kite to the ground. But the kite would not budge. He was afraid to pull too hard or he would rip the kite for sure. He had seen other boys lose their kites in this very tree. They would climb the tree to get their kites down but Michael already knew from past experiences that he could not climb this tree. He remembered the pained expression on his dad’s face when he tried. He really had tried but he just couldn’t make it. Finally his dad had climbed the tree and they had walked home in silence.

But now his dad was not here and he was not even suppose to have this special kite out. His dad would be mad but worse than that his dad would be disappointed in Michael, again. “Great, this is just great”, Michael said. “This was supposed to make me feel better, not do me in.” Then with no one there to see, Michael sat down on a log and began to cry, great heart-rending sobs. “If only someone understood,” he sobbed, “if only there was someone that cared. Someone who understands how it really feels.”

Michael never cried in front of people. His parents thought that Michael didn’t cry at all. They thought Michael didn’t care what people said but the truth is Michael did care and he did cry. He just cried when no one else was looking. Why should he make himself even more vulnerable when all people did was hurt him anyway.

Suddenly Michael was aware that someone was standing near by, a grown man from the appearance of his feet. Michael wanted to run but knew it was too late. Oh what’s the use anyway, Michael thought and just kept sobbing. He decided he wasn’t going to look up. Maybe the man would go away. Why would this man even want to interfere? He wouldn’t, Michael was sure of it. But Michael was wrong.

The man did not say a word but sat down on the log next to Michael. After a few minutes he gently put his arm around Michael. He did it so tenderly that Michael did not feel threatened. He buried his face in the strangers chest and sobbed out all the pain, frustration and hurt. When he was finally quiet for a while, the stranger handed him a hanky and waited for him to dry his eyes and blow his nose.

“Thank you,” Michael said quietly. He was still looking down at the ground; he could not bring himself to face this stranger who had caught him at such a vulnerable moment.

“Michael,” the stranger said. Michael was startled that this man knew his name. “That is a good biblical name. It is the name of a great warrior angel. The archangel Michael.” The stranger sat quiet for a moment as though struggling with his own grief. “Michael, Michael,” sighed the stranger speaking with deep emotion, “why do you hate me?”

“Hate you?” asked Michael and finally he looked up. The man was looking at Michael with such love and compassion that Michael was surprised. He had never seen such a look of tenderness in all his life. “Uh I don’t hate you,” Michael stammered, “I don’t even know you.”

“Yes, I know,” said the stranger. “That is the problem. If you knew me, you wouldn’t hate me.”

“How can I hate you when I don’t even know you?” Michael asked still intrigued by the kindness of this compassionate man. No one had ever treated Michael so tenderly. Michael found himself relaxing with this man, letting down his guard in away he only did when he was alone.

“Michael,” asked the man, “do you know who I am?”

Michael thought about it. The only one he had ever heard of being so kind and loving was Jesus Christ. His Sunday school teacher said that God is love and Jesus being God’s only begotten son is love as well. “I think you are the Lord,” Michael replied. As it sunk in that Jesus Christ, Lord of Heaven and Earth, King of Kings was sitting next to him. “Why,” Michael thought, “what could he possibly want with someone like me.”

“Yes,” Jesus replied, “I am the Lord.” “Michael, do you think God did a good job when he created the heavens and the earth?”

Michael thought about it for a moment, if the Lord thought it was important enough to ask the question he should think about it and give an honest answer. After all, he would know what he thought anyway, wouldn’t he? “Yes, said Michael slowly, “Yes I think He did. I mean think about it, science can’t duplicate what he has made. My teacher says it is such a delicate balance that only a genius could have planned it so that everything works together as it does. A genius far greater than anything man has ever known, with far more power than man has ever known. So I think He did a good job.”

“Well said,” Jesus said looking into Michael’s eyes as though he was searching for something there. “Do you think He did a good job when he made you?

Michael quickly looked away from the man’s gaze and hung his head. Often when he was alone he had wondered why he was different from other kids? Had God messed up when he made him? But how could he tell Jesus about thoughts like that, but then I guess he knows doesn’t he, because Jesus knows everything anyway. But in Sunday school they told him God couldn’t mess up, so Michael had decided that somehow it was all his fault and God was just punishing him. And since God is never wrong, he must deserve it. He didn’t say things like that out loud though.

“Michael,” Jesus said putting his hand under Michael’s chin and lifting it gently upward toward him, “did you know that when you hate yourself you hate God’s creation and not only God’s creation but His temple. Because you are the temple of God and His spirit dwells in you. You can’t hate yourself without hating God because He is the one that made you and dwells in you. And since God and I are one, I will ask you again,” Jesus said sighing deeply, Michael, why do you hate me?”

Michael was confused but one thing he understood, Jesus was saying if he hated himself it was equal to hating God. Well he never wanted to show disrespect to God but this much he did know, he hated himself. He looked down at his body; the sweaty folds of skin and puffy rounded limbs. Then he looked at the tall well-built man sitting next to him. Not an ounce of fat that he could see. “You wouldn’t understand,” Michael said bitterly, “how could you?”

“You mean I couldn’t understand this?” Jesus asked drawing a square in the air in front of Michael that became a window to see the past. Michael cringed as he saw himself walking to school. He remembered this day. He didn’t need to relive it. “Watch.” Jesus said. Michael saw himself waiting until he thought no one was on the stairs leading into the school. Then quickly he started to walk up the stairs trying to get to class before anyone noticed him.

He saw the bully jump out of the shadows where he had been hiding, waiting for Michael. He said, “Hey Fatso. What did you bring me today?” Michael cringed in fear. The bully began a cruel chant; “Fatty, fatty two by four couldn’t get through the bathroom door.” Then the bully began to laugh and push Michael around. He seemed to be enjoying Michael’s pain. Jesus waved his hand and the window vanished.

Michael was defensive now. “No,” said Michael, “You couldn’t understand.”

“Do you think yours is the only pain then?” Jesus asked. “Do you think you’re the only one mocked by people and betrayed by loved ones? Let me show you something,” he said and with that he drew the square in the air again in front of Michael. Again the square became like a window looking back on the past.

Michael saw Jesus walking the streets of Jerusalem, healing the sick and teaching the poor. He saw his friends and disciples eager and attentive. Michael couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy because he didn’t have any friends. “Watch,” said Jesus solemnly. He saw Jesus reclining at a great meal. He was trying to warn the disciples that they would soon desert him and that the people he had come to rescue would mock him and kill him. But the disciples wouldn’t listen. Then he saw Jesus in the garden praying. Praying not only for himself, but also for the friends that were going to desert him in his hour of need and for the people he came to rescue and heal that would turn against him. “Wow,” thought Michael, “how could he be so selfless.”

He saw the soldiers come to get him. They beat him and put a crown of thorns on his head. They mocked him and spat in his face. Michael winced as he watching the painful scene. They took him to the Roman ruler. He tried to release him but the people cried kill him. “Why?” the Roman asked, “he has done no wrong. Let me release him.” But the people demanded he be killed. As Michael looked at the angry crowd, full of hatred he saw people Jesus had healed and taught. How could they? Jesus faced worse bullies than me, Michael thought.

Michael watched as Jesus walked the road to Calvary, his load too heavy for him to carry, with the crowd jeering and calling him names. Worse names than kids called Michael. But Jesus stopped, bleeding and in pain, to warn them not to worry about him but about the day that would soon come when they would have to flee the soldiers as well. Even as he suffered so unjustly he thought of the pain of others. How could he do that?

Michael saw them nail him to the cross and he began to cry. Jesus reached over to comfort him and Michael saw the jagged scar where he had been nailed. He turned back to the window just in time to hear Jesus praying to the Father again, asking God to forgive them because they didn’t know what they were doing. How could he pray for them after all they had done to him?

He watched Jesus die. He saw him buried. He saw his disciples hurt and confused. Frightened that the soldiers would come for them next. They had deserted him, betrayed him, one had even denied him. Then he saw the grave opened and Jesus come out alive in a bright light. And the first thing he did was send comfort and instructions to the disciples, those guys that deserted him. The ones that weren’t even sure if they believed him, until they saw him for themselves.

He saw Jesus go to them in love and comfort them and instruct them. Why? Then he told them to go into all the world and make disciples, to do what he had done. How could they do what he had done? How could they love and pray for people that were mean to them? Didn’t that take a special kind of God love? Surely it did.

“Michael, you see I do understand how it feels.” Jesus said as the window disappeared. “I know exactly how it feels to be alone and misunderstood.” Michael looked at him with a new respect, he really did understand.

“Michael, do you think I was bad and God was just punishing me?” Jesus ask solemnly

The thought was ridiculous. It was impossible for Jesus to be bad. “No,” said Michael, “that is not possible.”

“Then why do you think your problems are because you are bad and deserve to be punished somehow?” Jesus asked him with a tender smile.

Put in that kind of light it didn’t look the same. “Then why are people mean to me?” asked Michael.

“Because of their pain.” Jesus said, “Everyone has their own pain, even bullies. The boy that you call bully that is so mean to you comes from a broken home. His dad is very mean to him and hits him. He doesn’t have anyone to pray for him or care if he goes to heaven or hell. He is really alone. People deal with their pain differently but everyone puts up some sort of protective wall. His wall is being mean to others so they can’t get close enough to hurt him. It is a lonely cage at best.”

“I didn’t know,” said Michael sadly, “I wish there was something I could do.”

“There is,” Jesus said with a smile, “You can do what I told my disciples to do. Do what I did.”

“You mean pray for people that are mean to me and love them?” said Michael incredulous. “I don’t think I could that.”

Jesus looked at him a moment and then looked down wistfully, “You know there isn’t anyone else Michael. If you don’t pray for him and show him love who will?”

The pain on Jesus’ face at that moment said it all. It was more than just a nice thing to do; it could make the difference in Heaven and Hell for that bully. It would at least give him a chance. But Michael just didn’t think he could do it. He was too scared of the bully. Jesus saw Michael’s struggle and again drew the square in the air in front of Michael.

Michael looked through the window but this time into the future. He saw that he was again walking to school. He winced as he noticed he didn’t look any different. But there was something different about him. He seemed happy, confident. He didn’t hide and wait until the steps were clear; he walked straight up the stairs without hesitating. The bully had been waiting for him and jumped in front of him. Michael smiled a big smile and said joyfully, “Hi Carl.” For that was the bully’s real name.

The bully was taken back for a moment. Michael even saw a look of fear seem to pass over his face before it started looking mean again. Then with a sneer he said, “Hi Fatty, Hey Fatty, Fatty two by four couldn’t get through the bathroom door.” Michael chuckled and said cheerfully, “That does paint a funny picture doesn’t it Carl.” Then like a real friend enjoying a chuckle with another friend he patted him on the shoulder and went on. “See you later Carl.”

He saw Carl touch his shoulder where Michael had patted him and he looked confused. Then Michael saw something he doesn’t think anyone had ever seen before, a tiny smile formed on Carl’s lips and quietly under his breath he said “See ya.” It had meant something to him. Just that little bit of kindness meant something to him. Then Michael realized that Carl was hurting too.

Jesus waved his hand and the window vanished. “There are a lot of hurting people Michael and you can make a difference for them. Even your dad acts the way he does because of hurt.

“What?” Michael said. “I don’t think so.” His Dad always seemed so big and tough.

“Do you remember the stories he tells about being in sports in high school and college?” Jesus asked.

“Yes,” Michael said, “all too well.”

“He did all that to get his dads acceptance. He never felt like his dad loved him or was proud of him. Even today he works so hard at his job trying to do good so his dad will notice. That’s why he is so hard on you. Because he feels like he has failed you somehow. So he just keeps trying harder. He tries so hard that he can’t see he is doing the same thing to you that his dad did to him. You can reach out to your dad and help him, just like you can reach out to the bully and help him too.”

“I want to but I can’t, I am too scared.” Michael said frustrated.

“Michael, you have a friend that will never leave you, me.” Jesus said calmly looking Michael in the eyes, “I will be with you always and though you may not see me clearly like you do today, I will be in your heart and you will hear me. Because you have love and acceptance from me you do not require the love and acceptance of others. So you can love them without any fear of being hurt because nothing they can say or do can make you feel hurt or rejected as long as you have the love and acceptance you need in me.”

“All this time you were learning about me,” Jesus said thoughtfully, “but you never really knew me. Now it is time that you know me and we will be best friends forever. As you saw in the window, I am not easily offended.” Jesus said with a grin, “So as long as you want, we can be friends. There is just one thing you need to do.”

Michael’s head was swirling. Never alone, friends forever, Jesus himself, Wow! “One thing,” Michael said anxiously, “Anything, just name it.”

“You need to forgive,” Jesus said seriously, “forgiving is the only way to remove offenses and you have been offended at yourself, at God, and at others.”

“Yes,” said Michael, “I can see I need to forgive.”

“Then say this prayer with me Michael,” Jesus said bowing his head. “Dear God I forgive you, even though you didn’t do anything wrong, I was offended at you. I blamed you for my problems. But now I choose to forgive you so my heart can be right with you and I ask for your forgiveness for being offended at you. I want you to be Lord of my life. I forgive all the people that have hurt me, Carl, Mom, Dad, and even myself. I choose as an act of my will to forgive them and to forgive myself. I release us to you. I ask you to heal the hurt inside of us. Forgive me for hating myself. I know now that you don’t look at the outside but what is in the heart, and though I may not always see it, I believe in what you are doing in me and in the plan you have for my life. Please help me love others the way you do. I choose to love you and to receive your love and be your best friend forever. In Jesus name amen.”

When Michael looked up Jesus was gone. He felt different. He felt happy, he felt loved. Though he still would like to lose weight, he finally realized that the weight isn’t who he is. Who he is, is in his heart and that’s where Jesus lives. So it can’t be a bad place. If Jesus could love him, he couldn’t be all that bad. He might even learn to like himself.

As he stood up his hand pulled on the kite string and the kite came tumbling down out of the tree. It was not torn at all. Michael thanked the Lord as he walked back to the house. I guess they would be talking a lot now.

Michael went into the house. His dad was sitting on the couch. Michael looked at his dad through new eyes. Not just seeing him through the eyes of his pain but seeing him through the eyes of love. He looked so tired and frustrated. A feeling of compassion came over Michael.

He sat down next to his dad. His dad was too tall for him to put his arm around him, so he just held his hand. He said, “You know dad I think you’re the greatest dad ever. I am so lucky to have a dad like you. I love you so very much. Thanks for being my dad.” He looked his dad in the face so his dad could see how much he loved him. His dad’s eyes watered for a moment, then he sniffled and stood up. “I was just thinking,” he said sniffing, his eyes still moist, “that this would be a perfect day to fly our special kite.” Then he grinned from ear to ear. “Do you really think I’m a good dad?” “Oh yes,” Michael said, “I wouldn’t ever want anyone else but you.”

His dad gave him a big bear hug and then they went to get the kite. The same kite Michael had just put away. But he would be glad to fly it again, especially with his dad.

Then Michael heard a still small happy voice in his heart, “Michael, Michael I love you.”