mentally defective

This was the third taxi driver's assessment of the second taxi driver. Jake and I had been trying to resolve some travel dilemmas, (see previous post) and after very limited progress at Lufthansa's center office, we were catching a taxi to the church. We got into this taxi with one of those nasty Neanderthal types, he even had the physical features! And immediately he began to talk about each woman we passed as if she were potentially his personal pleasure opportunity. He intentionally pulled into the crosswalks, so that the women had to pass around his car and his filthy dialogue made me want to smash his face into his Russian steering wheel (in the name of Jesus of course) . . . I did not appreciate his comments one bit, but in front of my 16 year son made it feel 10x's worse!

I told him that my woman was plenty for me and that only a fool needed more than one woman. His disgust at my simplistic views almost shut him up. When we got out of the car, I told Jake, "People like that make me feel so slimy, I feel like I need a bath!" And I pointed out to him that if his sisters or mother got into that man's taxi how uncomfortable it would be for them!

My anger and disgust was still running high when we finished our tasks at the church and were hopping another taxi home. I basically told the taxi driver what the previous driver had been like. His assessment cheered me much, "Those kinds of people are mentally defective" he told us. I could not agree more. At the same time, but for Christ in me, there goes my life.

Worse yet, how do I share the Gospel with a mentally defective chump like that? I mean I have always been able to bridge large social gaps . . . I can switch gears from golfing with my physician to digging a well by hand in the village with illiterates in a heartbeat. I have a large box for people to play in . . . I can generally love them and hate the sin that destroys them. But when someone embraces the nastiest and dirtiest recesses of human depravities . . . I don't see anyway to reach out in love, when I want to pound them instead. I am not a very good missionary some days.