Egged

I was working in my attic study some months back when I was startled by a bang on the window. A fallen slate? A stone? A careless bird? All explanations rushed through my head till I saw a slimy substance on the pane. It was an egg and I had just been 'egged'. I wondered: was I being targeted by vengeful schoolboys? Or some member of the local petty crook fraternity who objected to some judicial decision at the magistrates’ court? No, it was simply because the light was on and this best serves the throwers’ objectives as it allows them to glimpse a reaction before fleeing. I was of course annoyed, and arranged to squirt cleaning agent at the besmirched glass before it dried. While doing so, I reflected on a certain pair of teenage boys who used to go egging themselves, twenty-five years ago. Searching for lit windows without curtains, or better still, one that was open, a well-aimed egg gave them much pleasure before they ran off, howling with laughter. Writes the ancient prophet:

Woe unto the wicked! it shall be ill with him: for the reward of his hands shall be given him. Isaiah 3:11

What goes around, comes around. Only Christ’s cross can break the terrible falling dominoes of crime and punishment, revenge and retribution.

Image by CraftyPease from Pixabay