My face was burning. My anger was burning. The man had slapped me hard. I said to myself, "I don't need you for this one, God. I'm gonna kick this boy's brains out myself!" I looked at him and defiantly said, "You hit me?! You hit me?!" And I caught him by the shirt.
I couldn't believe he slapped me. I would rather he punch me because a slap is a real insult to a man.
My flesh reared up and egged me on, "Hit him, Jess! Hit him right between the eyes!"
I enthusiastically agreed. "I will and I'll repent tomorrow. But I'm gonna put my fist in this guy! You hit me?!"
Then I heard the Lord speak up on the inside of me, "They hit me."
I had this boy by the shirt and man, I was hot! I was furious! My Cajun blood was boiling in my veins as I heard the Lord again say, "They hit me, Jesse."
And again, "Jesse, they hit me."
My face was beet red and I was gritting my teeth and shaking with anger as I held this man by the shirt. "Let me tell you something, boy!" I snarled. About two inches from his face I hollered, "Ahhhhh, do you...know...Jesus?"
"No," he sarcastically said.
"Let me give you some advice, boy! Repent now!"
I led that boy to the Lord but I didn't like it. I'm not sure whether he did it out of sincerity or out of fear. Either way, I didn't care. I went back to that hotel mad. "I tell you one thing, God! You let that little itty-bitty man slap me! Why...? That was a little guy, God! A little guy!"
"Why didn't you turn the other cheek?" He asked.
"Because this one hurt! I didn't want any more! That's an insult!"
"You're well able to handle anything that comes your way."
See, I had to learn some things, and although God didn't send that guy to slap me, He did use it to teach me a lesson about persecution for the Word's sake. He used it to show me that just as He had been slapped, spit on, beaten and bruised for the Word's sake, there might come a time that I, too, would be persecuted because of my belief in Jesus and His Word.
Excerpt permission granted by Harrison House Publishers