Curatives

Curative - definition: curing, tending to cure, or having the power to cure. A thing that heals or brings a measure of comfort.

I like the word Curative. I prefer to think of Curatives as big fat drops of grace, kindness and tender mercy that God provides when we need them most. They turn up at any place, at any time, and for anyone who is troubled. Curatives often come as people who meet and end up helping each other. How is it that some people encounter other people who are uniquely qualified to aid, comfort, inspire and even help them change for the better? They may have nothing in common. Perhaps they normally would not mix. God arranges and shuffles people, places, things, and dogs as He sees fit. He also has a Plan, and we are part of it, whether we like it or not. He doesn’t need us to understand or approve, or even believe in Him, either.

God does this because He can. Maybe He gets bored up there, and He likes to help folks in His spare time – particularly and especially those of us who have made big mistakes and even bigger messes of our lives. He must love us, or perhaps He is simply embarrassed for us; we do make fools of ourselves – and He has to watch it all. Why doesn’t He get tired of us?

In the Parable of the Lost Sheep, a shepherd has an hundred sheep in his flock, one of which prefers to go his own way. He wandered off path, got lost, panicked, and he ended up caught in an evil bewitched thorn bush. The lamb cried. The shepherd heard. To the shepherd, the lost one is as important to him as the entire flock. He dropped everything to search. The lost was soon found. He carefully freed the lamb from the thorns. He lovingly gathered him in his arms and carried him back to the flock. That’s how it works for us.

The Parable of the Lost Sheep shows us how precious each of us is to the Good Shepherd. We ignore good advice. We repeat our mistakes. We insist on “going our own way.” Free Agency permits us to do some remarkably dumb things. If we insist on taking the wrong paths in our lives, we will discover that some paths lead to very dark places.

God never tires of bailing us out, though.

He constantly demonstrates His love for us, even when we insist on being unlovable idiots. Curatives are there for us because God Himself is there for us. He arranges people, places, things, and dogs along our path to guide, guard, protect, and encourage us. People to help us, and people we can help. Curatives show up when we need them, and we don’t even have to ask. God doesn’t dole out too much at one time, though, because we couldn’t handle it. We are a primitive species. Few of us even know what would make us happy, other than winning the lottery.

Many years ago, I represented a nice lady who was about the age of my Grandmother. She had no family, very few friends, and she lived alone in a small town. For reasons I’ll never understand, she made it her mission over the years to shower me with thoughtful gestures. She sent me greeting cards on every occasion invented by card companies to peddle cards. In each card she’d write a lovely note expressing her love, friendship and good wishes for me. She also sent gifts – ties, socks, shirts, watches, wallets, manicure kits, shoe shine sets, desk accessories and other items into which I suspected she’d put much thought.

Occasionally I’d send her flowers, or a card of my own. On Mother’s Day, her birthday, and at Christmas time, I would send her a check. I was too lazy to take time to shop for something special. Lots of thought goes into a check.

Over the years, and as my fortunes declined because of a voodoo curse someone put on me, I developed a deeper appreciation for her many acts of kindness. The cards and gifts were touching Curatives from my friend. They made me feel better, just like a big swig of Laudanum. The cards and gifts she sent brought cheer to my imagined desolation and despair; encouragement to my gloom and doom; and a ray of hope in my anticipated destruction and defeat. Instead of feeling like fat Idi Amin in exile, I felt more like -- Napoleon, only shorter.

For my friend it almost had to be a labor of love. I think she looked forward to shopping for me. Why? She went to so much trouble for me, and I am the wretch John Newton wrote the song about.

My friend was a Curative. She was someone special who helped. Our paths crossed at one point, and later on I would be richly blessed by her kindness. She probably had little notion of the encouragement I received from just one of those cards.

At certain times in my life, I have made dumb decisions. There are always consequences. Barack will fix it. Those bad choices led me to expend enormous time, money and energy on such projects as swimming down to the wreck of the Titanic. You can’t get there, folks, but I kept on trying, over and over, for a long time, and always with the same result. It’s cold, dark, lonely, and terrifying down there. Some of those fish are mean. By the time one realizes he can’t actually make it to the wreck of the ship, it is too late to make it back to the surface – unless a Good Shepherd happens by to the rescue. And He always does. He watches over us.

I haven’t talked to my friend in several years. I told you I was a wretch. But I am going to see about her now. She had to move from her small and modest apartment to an assisted living facility. She is 87 now. I don’t know about her health. I haven’t received a card in over a year, which is troubling. I need to thank her again for looking after me.

I’ve had many of these “Curatives” over the years. People seem to turn up in my life when I least expect it, and when I need them most. Just like the Elves in “The Two Towers.” The Curative People are uniquely situated to help me with my own challenges. This is good, because I often wonder if I am genetically pre-disposed to do the next dumb thing. I like to have a mess going on in my life at all times – something to poke at or jab, so I can make it worse. If there are no messes or drama, no resentments or anger to obsess over, then I will create some. This is how I must roll. Unless a rogue Curative comes along and helps me change and quit doing that.

Yep, I’m going to see if there is anything that lady needs. It is my turn to look after her now. I’m going to toss her a few of those Curatives. Maybe do some shopping for cheesy greeting cards and whatnot.


©2009 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.