Maintaining Integrity Amidst Conflict

GROFF MEDIA 2024© TRUTH ENDURES IMDBPRO

Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©s

2–3 minutes

Keeping Your Side of the Street Clean

The smell of fresh rain lingered as Mark walked down Elm Street toward his favorite café. It was his usual morning routine, a quiet moment before the day unraveled. He reached the entrance. Then he saw him—Greg Turner. Greg was leaning against a lamppost, arms crossed. He was watching him with a smirk that dripped with disdain.

Greg had never made it a secret that he disliked Mark. Their history goes back to a business deal gone wrong. Mark handled it ethically, but Greg saw it as a betrayal. Since then, Greg had made it his mission to smear Mark’s name. He spread rumors and whispered doubts into the ears of anyone who would listen.

Mark adjusted his posture, exhaled slowly, and kept walking. He knew better than to engage.

“Hey, Mark,” 

Greg called out loud enough for people at the café’s outdoor tables to turn their heads.

“Still fooling people into thinking you’re the good guy?”

A few customers looked up from their coffee, eyes shifting between them, waiting for a response. Mark felt the moment’s weight pressing against his back, the temptation to defend himself bubbling under the surface.

But he had learned something long ago—some battles weren’t worth fighting. Not in the mud. Not at the expense of his peace.

He turned slightly, just enough to meet Greg’s gaze, and nodded.

“Good morning, Greg.” 

His voice was even, void of malice, but firm. Then, without another word, he stepped inside the café.

The barista, Sarah, greeted him with a warm smile. 

“The usual?”

Mark nodded as he took out his wallet.

“Yep. And maybe an extra shot of patience today.”

Sarah chuckled as she prepared his coffee. 

“Don’t let him get to you.”

He shook his head. 

“I won’t.”

Moments later, as he stirred his coffee, he glanced outside. Greg was still there, now talking to someone else, his hands animated, spinning another version of his tired tale. Mark took a sip, savoring the rich warmth of his drink, and let the moment pass.

There was no need to wade into the mess or wrestle with the bitterness that wasn’t his to carry. His conscience was clear. His integrity was intact.

He walked out of the café with his head high. His side of the street was clean. Mark was guilt-free and ready to face his day. He had not gotten down to Greg’s level; even better, he showed respect for doing so. 

THE GOOD OLE DAYS – When Liquor And Smoking Was Looked Down On In The Church!

A Report By: Benjamin Groff© Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures

Back When It Was Wrong to Drink Alcohol if You Attended Church Regularly**

There was a time in America when attending church wasn’t just a Sunday ritual—it was a statement about your character and standing in the community. The church was not just a place of worship, but a social hub, a moral compass, and a powerful institution that dictated the norms of the society. If you were a regular churchgoer, there were unspoken rules about living outside church walls. Drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes were two vices that could quickly bring judgment upon you, even if they were as commonplace as breathing for others.

In small towns, everyone knew each other, and word traveled fast. It wasn’t uncommon for whispers to start over something as innocent as being seen at a local diner that served alcohol. If you planned to go out on a Saturday night, you’d carefully choose your venue. Establishments that served soft drinks and burgers were safe zones. But heaven forbid you step into a place with a liquor license, even if you ordered only iced tea. The fear of being seen holding a bottle or sitting too close to someone who did would make you check the room every few minutes, scanning for familiar faces.

If someone from the church spotted you and word got back, there would be consequences. Churchgoers who believed themselves to be the guardians of morality would meet in hushed tones after Sunday service. By the following week, it wasn’t just an isolated incident but a full-blown scandal. Being blackballed from the church community was as much a social exile as a spiritual one. It meant being shunned by your friends, ignored by your neighbors, and excluded from community events. It was a scarlet letter that you wore for all to see.

For many, life revolved around the church. From social gatherings to community support, it was the center of life. If you fell out of favor, you might as well have packed your bags and left town. People would stop coming by your house. Your family would feel isolated, and worse yet, your reputation could be tarnished, so you’d be forever known as “the one who didn’t live right.”

What made it even harder was that many people did drink or smoke, just not publicly. Behind closed doors, whiskey bottles would appear, and cigarettes would be lit, but it was all secret. There was a fine line between private indulgence and public condemnation; walking that line required skill. Even the most upstanding churchgoers knew when to bend the rules to avoid exposure, but there was no forgiveness once caught.

This wasn’t just a rule enforced by the church leaders. It was ingrained in the fabric of the town. Even those who didn’t care much for the church often aligned themselves with its standards because the social costs of defying them were too high. Businesses knew to close down on Sundays, and local events were always planned around the church calendar. People were always watching, and it was the judgment of your peers that carried the actual weight.

But it wasn’t all rigid. A seismic shift was underway. The younger generation, starting in the 1960s and into the ’70s, began to question why the church had such control over their personal lives. They saw the church’s influence as oppressive, and they were determined to break free. Some moved away from the towns, hoping to escape the ever-present watchful eyes. Others rebelled quietly, choosing to live their lives in contrast to the expectations but always careful to avoid getting caught. Those who stayed and fought for change were few and far between, and the weight of tradition bore down on them heavily.

As time went on, the grip loosened, but for those who lived through it, the fear of social disgrace for drinking or smoking stayed with them long after the rules faded.