Pornography, vandalism, and malice invaded my life this week. I was blown away, as shock and anger wrecked my usual equilibrium.
First, a group of marauders assaulted a thriving online community of quilters. Rude comments on recently completed quilts were quickly followed by pornographic photos. The group admin was unreachable, compounding the pandemonium.
Next, some high school students dumped their lunches on my husband’s truck. When we’d parked for our lunch date at a local restaurant, I’d had a positive impression of kids enjoying a plein air lunch. But when we returned, we found fried rice on my door, and more rice filled the channel beneath the windshield.
A few days later now, the quilting group is back to talking about their latest quilts, and projects for good causes. The only sign of the invasion is a comment admonishing “Don’t feed the trolls.”
After some quality time with the local sheriff’s deputy, my husband cleaned up his big Raptor. Sometime soon, I know he and some stranger will have a friendly conversation, in a parking lot next to that truck.
The online marauders were banished, and the vandals fled from their crime. But the community lives on, enjoying our relationships with each other — opportunities that the invaders have lost.
Perhaps this week was just Psalm 1 in real-life. Those of us living in community are like trees planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in due season. The wicked are like chaff. The wind just blows them away.