So many people hear cries for help and don't react, assuming somebody else will help them or that if it's urgent enough, the person will make the urgency clear. I tend to hear the most subtle cries for help and react to them all. I often can tell exactly where a person is broken and how that brokenness is reflected in their every day lives.
I did a spiritual gifts test and had a pastor friend of mine go over it with me. He prayed on it for a couple of days and sent me his thoughts on my results. In his email, based on my results only (he doesn't know me deeply enough to assess me on his own, I would imagine, unless he's got a gift maybe...), he said, among other things, "You can see how people are struggling and it is your desire to help them. The problem you will face is that you will know what their problems are before they know what their problems are. You will want to tell them their struggles but this just makes them angry and defensive...."
And that's what happens.
Another friend of mine, who I hadn't talked to for ten years until yesterday said he remembered me as being "very uninterested in mundane things and being intellectually confrontational about people's behavior". So in ten years, no matter how hard I worked and how much I went through, this thing just stuck.
Whatever it is, whether it's a gift or a curse or just plain arrogance, it breaks me sometimes. It's like I can see things clearly, soul things, that the other person is adamant about not showing anybody.
What happens is this: I might either meet a new person or just get closer to an old acquaintance if some sort of opportunity arises. We get to talking and after a while, the conversation ends up inevitably moving towards deeper things. It's just how I am. I start to ask tougher questions to try to understand people's reasoning behind their choices and actions because, to me, their motivations and reasonings are a quick way to get to know their soul. Some people are exploratory and inviting. Others are quick to slam their doors shut at any inkling of questioning. As time progresses and we inevitably talk more, more of their soul becomes apparent and more of the subtle screams become audible to me (metaphorically, of course). And with time, I learn how to talk to each person, learn what upsets them and which approaches are more sensitive. But sometimes, the screams get so loud that I just can't stand by. And when the screams are so loud, the people themselves generally are repressing something they either are terrorized by or just really don't want to face. Often they've passed something hurtful off, brushed it away, and pretend they were successful in doing so when really, it's eating at their core and affecting their decision-making processes in the present.
And so in their words, their phrasing of things, their defensiveness and the walls they put up, I can see which door has to be opened to sort of free them from this oppressive repression.
Sometimes, they're not ready. So I sort of aim them towards the door and wait. Other times, they are ready, and I open the door and walk them through it. And the last group of people or circumstances, either aren't ready but are in desperate need, are ready but aren't willing, or catch me completely off guard. The result is they get thrust through the door in what is a very dramatic experience for both of us.
When they aren't ready and are in desperate need, I know what's coming. I know they're going to get extremely angry with me and that I might lose them. But the need outweighs my selfish stake in them and I proceed anyway.
When they're ready but aren't willing, the confrontation is a little less explosive, but still, there is a confrontation. The growth happens pretty quickly and our relationship usually ends up deeper because of it.
In the last case, I get crushed.
I've been pretty well tuned in to myself, overly critical and always striving to be better- a better person, a more lovable person, a more generous person, a more motivated person, and so on. I know where I'm broken just as much as I see the brokenness in others. I face everything head on, no matter how painful it is. Of course, I wasn't always like this. I used to repress just as badly as the next person. But I've seen the freedom that comes with letting go. I've seen the freedom that occurs when a person releases themselves from the things that are crushing their person. Once you walk through that door, it's hard to come back. It's hard to put all the walls back up again, unless another trauma occurs.
But at a certain point, the amount of vulnerability it takes on my part to "help" people in this way is devastating. Not only do I have to maintain communication that is open, never retaliatory but always loving, I can't let my own defense mechanisms affect what is going on. No matter how much brutal retaliation I get, I can't fight back because it'll change the message. They won't be able to walk through that door if there's one of my doors slamming in front of them before they get there.
Normally, I'm ready. If I approach a very clear situation, I'm prepared for the reaction. I'm prepared to handle it. I'm also prepared for their particular reaction because at that point, I'm fairly certain which way their defense mechanisms will shut me down.
But it's when I poke at their weakest spots unintentionally that everything turns.
On the weekend, I was talking about a family member with another, and this person was judging the first pretty harshly, so I tried to explain why he did the things he did, why he's wired that way, how his circumstances affected him and on and on. I know him well because we share a lot of the same history, only he handled it differently than I did and that was the difference I was explaining. Somehow, over the course of that conversation, I poked the weakest spots of a third person overhearing.
After a brief period of festering and growing in anger, the next opportunity this person got, they laid into me brutally. It was terrible. My person was attacked for at least fifteen minutes straight. I didn't react. I could have, I suppose, but the way it happened was so horrible and broken, I just couldn't.
I got into my car and drove home listening to a sermon from Vintage 21 on Mark Ch 4:1-20, in which Pastor Tyler talks about (paraphrased) how we need to be sure to be open to people around us, how we need to relent and listen to what they have to say about us and that he's got a few people he relents to and then he says:
"Because I don't want this hardened response, where we just reject all things that are good and we walk away. One of the hardest parts of my job is to sit with people in my office and to tell them things that won't give me any money, won't give me any fame, are of no benefit to me at all, that are just life giving to them, that are just about Jesus and you can see in their eyes, they're not going to do it. They're not going to go that way. 'How dare you speak into my life.' And so I've even started saying 'Don't do this thing. don't go that way. You're hardened and it's only leading to destruction.'"
[As usual, the opinions expressed in this blog in no way are reflective of the opinions, theology or whatever else of Vintage 21. They're just my views. Only my views. Endorsed by nobody. :D]
And it reminded me of what my goal is. It's not about me. It's about caring for people such that they might see Jesus through me.
But I do relent. On a scale of hardened hearts, my heart is moosh. And this person ripped into me and one of the main points they drilled into me amongst all the thrashing was how I have to stop doing this.
I came home crushed, not because I'm really adamant about staying this way but because I don't know any other way to be. I can't stand by. I can't watch somebody hurt themselves (or others) and say nothing. That's not love. That's not caring for them. Even if the consequences are losing them, I can't stand by.
I came online because I was just lost and upset and my cousin was on. I told her what happened.
me: I offend a lot of people. Constantly.
cousin: I think you need to look at it differently though. You're not doing it just for fun, like some people do.
me: I don't do it because it's fun. I do it because somehow I feel people have a need. But maybe I'm wrong.
cousin: Exactly. I don't think you're wrong. I think it's courageous.
me: Thanks. It makes me want to quit life sometimes.
cousin: And I don't mean to sound weird, but it reminds me a lot of Jesus.
me: lol
cousin: I'm serious!
me: I think that's, like, the ultimate compliment in the entire universe.
And it is for many reasons, but coming from her, it was incredibly special to me because I know I've thrust her through her own doors before. I know she got angry with me and fought against me before. She knows how I am. And she saw Jesus in me anyway.
I know I have to tone it down. I know I'll get burnt out quickly if I keep going the way I'm going. The problem is... everybody needs help. Everybody needs love. Everybody needs more Jesus. And I pray. I pray often.
But I'm right here. Why are they in need in a way I can see it and why am I right here?
Why did God make me this way? Am I supposed to fight against it? Am I supposed to take the rebuke I know I'm getting out of fierce retaliation? It just seems that too many of us mistake love for this bizarre passive hate. Like a few pastors have said, if the person was on fire, would you just stand by? Well, they are on fire. And I can see it. Is that a bad thing? Is it a character flaw?
Sometimes, I'm wrong. But I'm not in it for me. I admit when I'm wrong. I admit when things were expressed poorly. I admit that I'm a flawed and broken individual too. I am. But I'd rather put out the occasional non-fire by accident and be wrong sometimes than to miss one that's crushing and killing a person.
And sometimes, I need more tact and sensitivity. Yes, I agree wholeheartedly. I'm learning. Constantly. But sometimes, hard words are hard no matter what package they're presented in. Sometimes, I just have to say it in the clearest way possible so there are no misunderstandings. Sometimes, it's deliberate, not because I'm trying to hurt anybody, but because that is the best way it has to be said.
I guess I have to keep praying that God might guide me and use my life however He needs it, that He might give me the skills and sensitivities He wants me to use, and that He would keep my heart open to accept the rebuke I deserve and need and to know the difference between rebuke from the heart that aims to build me and criticisms based in anger that are meant to crush me.
Like my friend Eric said this week, Jesus says in John 14:6, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life," but people tend to leave out the "way" part. The way is hard. The way involves a more active response in our daily lives. But if the way is the most efficient and provocative tool we have to show people the Gospel, then let's.
Is the Great God of the universe not worthy of the life He has given me? Is it not all a gift? And if so, the very essence of my being should honor Jesus and reflect my abundant appreciation and gratitude back to God.
Jesus is the way. So let's live like He is the way, or at least die trying to actively figure out what that means.
No comments:
Post a Comment