Finishing (to steal a term)

I had a boss once who said he liked to sleep because nothing bad ever happened to him while sleeping. Nice idea, but not true.

In a recent newspaper there was a story about a 7-year-old girl in River Ridge who was killed by a stray bullet coming from a shootout. She was struck in the neck, while she was sleeping.
That's the world we live in today, I'm afraid. Shootouts and such happen. Lives are wasted. Seven-year-olds die for no apparent reason. The Bible says of these things: Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
I pray for the family of the little girl. I pray for the idiots who were shooting up the neighborhood. I pray for those whose anger seems to take over their lives.
When I was nine, my cousin Benny came to stay with us. Benny was the type of kid who irritates you so much you might want to give him directions to the nearest cliff. He disagreed with everything I said. He fought my opinions like he was Irish and I British.
He would take a huddle of friends and the joy that comes with that and turn it into a rainstorm of unhappiness in minutes. One day, though, he was particularly bad. I got more and more frustrated until I, uh, snapped. There we were, flailing away at each other on the ground.
My Mama, God rest her soul, grabbed me by the collar and in a feat of amazing motherly strength yanked me up like I was weightless.
She held me a minute or two before plopping me down. But even then she didn't let me go; instead, she held my collar and put her face inches from mine. She screamed, something my Mama did not do. Something about being a good host. Something about keeping my wits about me. Something about two wrongs not equaling a right.
I was stunned. Benny did all the wrong things, and I got the punishment. In that is the lesson. Sometimes we are the ones who get the punishment though we are not the ones who started it. This morning as a Thursday begins in spots of gray clouds and dim light, let's not worry about who starts the thing. Let's concentrate hard on who finishes.