A caution sign that I spotted in the shower this morning: CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE
Three words that change the way you handle an object. Three words that should change the way you treat a person. How helpful it would be if we came with warning labels.
I have a confession to make. I am a fixer. Part of this I blame on my "communal-oriented" culture. My personal philosophy is that the group is more important than the individual, thus the group dynamic is more important than the individual, thus if there is an issue with one person, it has to be resolved before the group can return to equilibrium. Fix it. Find a solution. Restore balance. But this isn't always the most helpful approach with people in pain.
I sit down with a girl who starts explaining the issues she's struggling with, and my gift of discernment can't help but start listing off cause and effect. I want to explain to her that A is causing B and producing C and if she stops A, or initiates D, then B and C will be resolved. I want healing for her, resolution, peace, joy. But you know what it feels like to her sometimes? "You are a bunch of moving parts, making bad decisions. You need to replace this part with a new one, and change." True? Maybe. Helpful? Maybe not.
I know what it is like to show people my pain and have them give me directions on how to get out of it. It's the "nail in the forehead" dilemma that drives men up the wall (see the humorous video on youtube). Here's what I think I am communicating to the girl with the nail in her head: I care about you, I want you to be free of pain, I'm going to help you fix this. The funny thing is, saying those words would be a lot better than listing the immediate solution. Because when people give me simple solutions, I feel like I am a box on their checklist. I feel like I just took my car to the mechanic and he's staring at me like I'm an idiot because I haven't changed my oil in years. I feel belittled, condemned, and that everything about me is wrong.
"To him who is afflicted, kindness should be shown by his friend, even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty." (Job 6:14
This has become one of my favorite verses, especially when doing ministry. Yes, sometimes people need to hear the truth. There is a time and a place for rebuke and difficult exhortation. But read verse 15:
"My brothers have dealt deceitfully like a brook, like the streams of the brooks that pass away, which are dark because of the ice, and into which the snow vanishes."
I don't want to be like ice water. "Your gentleness has made me great." (Psalm 18:35)
My job is not to create repentance, soften a hard heart, or fix the situation. My job is to show compassion. ALWAYS. Always. Always. Always. Gentleness and kindness to the afflicted. The Holy Spirit will do the convicting and the changing.
It hurts to be afflicted and receive stern words from your friends. I don't want to be that person.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Monday, October 14, 2013
Painting Hope
Confession: driving at nighttime turns me into the best of contemplatives. Or maybe the worst? I think it has something to do with how dark it is in Idaho. And when the fall weather comes creeping in, it fuels my brain like manure.
Sometimes in the half hour drive home I see my life in an entirely different light. As if I've been walking around with poor eyesight and I finally put glasses on.
Life is not a formula. There are no twelve easy steps to success and happiness. Sometimes I think life is not even chronological. Life is a painting, full of color and strokes, shadows and blurred lines and brilliant representation.
So what does my painting look like? It sure looks a lot different than I thought it would. I think I've been painting in grays and blues for the past ten months. I've been building layer upon layer but nothing is taking shape. But that doesn't mean that my painting is not advancing. The most important thing I have learned about painting is that sometimes it takes a lot of muddling to achieve my vision.
When I don't paint, it is because I don't have hope. And in my life I can't move forward if I don't have hope.
Sometimes in the half hour drive home I see my life in an entirely different light. As if I've been walking around with poor eyesight and I finally put glasses on.
Life is not a formula. There are no twelve easy steps to success and happiness. Sometimes I think life is not even chronological. Life is a painting, full of color and strokes, shadows and blurred lines and brilliant representation.
So what does my painting look like? It sure looks a lot different than I thought it would. I think I've been painting in grays and blues for the past ten months. I've been building layer upon layer but nothing is taking shape. But that doesn't mean that my painting is not advancing. The most important thing I have learned about painting is that sometimes it takes a lot of muddling to achieve my vision.
When I don't paint, it is because I don't have hope. And in my life I can't move forward if I don't have hope.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Fall
October 9th. Fall swept in like a chalkboard eraser, cleaning the slate that was summer. I had been preparing myself: making lists of the joys of fall, pulling out my fall wardrobe, and entering those enthusiastic conversations with 'fall fan clubs.' Can't wait for fall!
But fall played dirty this year, and I don't appreciate that seeing as I am a newcomer and all. It hit like a sledgehammer with a storm system from the west coast, making me shiver, catch cold, and cry for the death of the fairy tale that was summer. Okay, maybe summer wasn't a fairy tale. Those last few weeks of perfect weather sort of were. Bad form, fall. Bad form.
October 9th. The sun came back out on October 5th, as if repentant for its inconsiderate behavior and my heart has slowly begun to recover hope. The trees are definitely turning now--glorious shades of yellow, red, and hot orange. I don't mind a chill in the evening. And after the storm system and bout of sickness, I am counting my blessings. I think it was all intentional: douse the new girl with icy water so she's grateful for the tepid shower. I don't like tricks like that.
I'm reminded of a story I read in middle school about the wind and the sun. They made a bet about who could get the little boy to take his jacket off. The wind howled and blew and the boy just hugged his jacket closer. The sun warmed him with gentle rays and there was no more need for the jacket.
Expediency and force aren't all they are cracked up to be. It is so easy to want control. It is so easy to try and bend things to my will. Sometimes I feel like my culture is handing out free hammers and raising its children to use it as their favorite tool. No one answering your knock? Keep hammering until you get their attention. Did that nail go crooked? Bang it back into place. Can't get the pearl out of the oyster shell? Smash it into pieces. But you can't make anything grow by hammering the earth. And no hammer can mend a wounded heart.
It is my conviction that gentleness and patience are far more powerful than the force of a hammer. No matter what I do, I cannot change the weather. But the weather is here to change my life. I can resist it and be miserable, or be patient with it and learn.
Fall always gives me the feeling that death is approaching. Not all seasons are seasons of rebirth. But I think sometimes that the four seasons give one of the clearest parallels to life. If we could choose one season and dispose of the rest, how many people would choose spring? Or summer? We want success in our lives. We want newness, rebirth, growth, and sunshine. We can deny pain in our lives. We can deny failure and cover it up. We can control what others see of our lives. But we can't control the seasons. Up here, in this world, everyone is passing through fall. It's a change in life that we all have to deal with, whether we love it or not.
Hello fall.
But fall played dirty this year, and I don't appreciate that seeing as I am a newcomer and all. It hit like a sledgehammer with a storm system from the west coast, making me shiver, catch cold, and cry for the death of the fairy tale that was summer. Okay, maybe summer wasn't a fairy tale. Those last few weeks of perfect weather sort of were. Bad form, fall. Bad form.
October 9th. The sun came back out on October 5th, as if repentant for its inconsiderate behavior and my heart has slowly begun to recover hope. The trees are definitely turning now--glorious shades of yellow, red, and hot orange. I don't mind a chill in the evening. And after the storm system and bout of sickness, I am counting my blessings. I think it was all intentional: douse the new girl with icy water so she's grateful for the tepid shower. I don't like tricks like that.
I'm reminded of a story I read in middle school about the wind and the sun. They made a bet about who could get the little boy to take his jacket off. The wind howled and blew and the boy just hugged his jacket closer. The sun warmed him with gentle rays and there was no more need for the jacket.
Expediency and force aren't all they are cracked up to be. It is so easy to want control. It is so easy to try and bend things to my will. Sometimes I feel like my culture is handing out free hammers and raising its children to use it as their favorite tool. No one answering your knock? Keep hammering until you get their attention. Did that nail go crooked? Bang it back into place. Can't get the pearl out of the oyster shell? Smash it into pieces. But you can't make anything grow by hammering the earth. And no hammer can mend a wounded heart.
It is my conviction that gentleness and patience are far more powerful than the force of a hammer. No matter what I do, I cannot change the weather. But the weather is here to change my life. I can resist it and be miserable, or be patient with it and learn.
Fall always gives me the feeling that death is approaching. Not all seasons are seasons of rebirth. But I think sometimes that the four seasons give one of the clearest parallels to life. If we could choose one season and dispose of the rest, how many people would choose spring? Or summer? We want success in our lives. We want newness, rebirth, growth, and sunshine. We can deny pain in our lives. We can deny failure and cover it up. We can control what others see of our lives. But we can't control the seasons. Up here, in this world, everyone is passing through fall. It's a change in life that we all have to deal with, whether we love it or not.
Hello fall.
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