"Hey, you! Get down on the floor and give me 25 pushups!"
When I was in the Army, my very presence seemed to enrage our mess hall sergeant. I couldn't do anything right. He forever had me doing push-ups, cleaning out the sink's grease trap, peeling an extra bag of potatoes, or staying after hours to do some dirty job. He also lived in my barracks, and every time he came through, he yelled some humiliating profanity at me in front of everybody.
I'd grown up learning to be a peacemaker, but this was a major test. So now I prayed, and my prayers rested on a truth I took as bedrock. The first chapter in Genesis told me that everything God had made was "very good." I could see this mistreatment had to be a mistake or a lie about God's creation, because it definitely wasn't good.
