Hey hey friends!
So this post is originally a post I published on my own personal blog a few weeks ago which is a separate URL than this. I don’t usually intertwine the two because it’s more of a j?o?u?r?n?a?l? emotional train wreck of an online diary BUT the more I reread this post, the more it begs me to share it with this particular audience. Give this a try.
I have this problem. It’s kind of a problem in disguise though. Something like when a missionary doesn’t have enough money to buy shoes for all the children, only three-fourths of them. When telling someone that story, I’d simply leave that part out and just give them the positive summary. I do the same for myself when it comes to my problem – remind myself of the good part. For so long I have desired to see people and really truly accept them for who they were, all judgment aside. I don’t know how many of you have actually tried this, but for lack of better words, it’s a brutal version of “easier said than done.”
It also takes a lot of practice, being able to see someone for all their dents and bruises and still love them as hard as you adored them from afar. Vulnerability is supposed to have this magic key to unlock the door to all acceptance and compassion, but for some reason, as much as it shows you the beautiful parts of one’s bravery to be completely exposed, it can also open up parts of that person that make you think involuntary thoughts or worse, cause you to see them in a way that you didn’t before.
When I was in high school, I dated a boy (the start to all tragic endings, right?) and upon realizing that I was, at the time, someone who regularly participated in events that left many unwanted scars on my high school years, he gave me an ultimatum – I could choose that life or I could have a relationship with him. If you asked me if I thought this was wrong of him, I’ll let you know when I figure that out. His reasons were all valid – he didn’t want to be associated with someone of “my kind”, he didn’t want a bad reputation, etc. So I did what every head-over-heels 17-year-old would do. I gave it up in a heartbeat to be with him. But I didn’t want to. I’ll spare you the details (you don’t know it yet, but you’re welcome) and just tell you that the week after we broke up and I smelled the sweetness of freedom in the air, I went clean off the deep end. When I tell this story in person, I blame it on my changing only for him and not for me. I decided to stop living a certain way to please a certain person. All my apologies to never consulting my heart and asking her if she was cool with it. Never once did anything about my heart, mind or soul choose not to be that person anymore. They just collectively decided to slip it under a rug for the time being, just far enough to where I could pull it back out when this was all over with.
Ever since, I solemnly swore to myself to never be him. To never force someone to change because I thought it was better for them. To never mold someone into a version of them that I was comfortable with. Now I feel stuck in that. Perhaps I was so determined to not be on that side of the fence that I planted myself a few footsteps too far on the opposite side. I’m the definition of guilty by association. I struggled deeply to find the line between wanting to be a good example for the friends I kept while never changing the oh-so-tempting environments and finding myself losing friends because I became the judgmental and no fun “Christian” that everyone despised. So many times, I’m told that we should live our lives by example and that if we just live in love and fight our battles on our knees, God does all the work for us. Instead of forcing people to change, I began forcing them to see me. It’s a weird concept to explain and I’m sure all the weirder to understand.
The week I got back from training for the race, I was on a Jesus high (oh come on, all you church-camp-goers, you know exactly what I mean) and it became top of my to-do list to make sure everyone I had ever met knew that I was different. Something ‘bout a heart that has just met Jesus, let me tell ya. It’s unstoppable. I remembered how much I didn’t want to force people into this life. “Just live by example,” I would repeat over and over and over. I wanted Jesus’ eyes. One of my all-time favorite authors, Bob Goff, has a quote that says “Don’t see people for who they are; see them for who they’re becoming.”
I set up meetings with nearly every person I could think of that could potentially be starting or currently in a downward spiral of some kind. Fresh out of high school, this list of people was not short. I wanted to prove that my way was better. I wanted to shove a big fat “you lose, you force-changer” in his face. The more I set up meetings and found ways to subtly bring Jesus into the conversation more and more each time, the more I was knocked over the head with the reality that God’s timing isn’t my timing. This was when I began to realize that seeing people for who they’re becoming is really difficult when you feel like they aren’t becoming anything. I felt myself growing bitter toward friends and family. Why don’t you want to change? Can’t you see how HAPPY I AM? WHY DON’T YOU WANT TO GIVE UP YOUR OLD LIFE AND LIVE OUT JESUS’ PLAN FOR YOU? DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT IT’S BETTER? The more they shared their life with me and the more vulnerable they became, the more frustrated I got. I was seeing a mess that I knew my God was in control of and they were seeing an irreparable life with no hope. Just when I would think I was making a dent, I would get the calls. “Can you come pick me up? I can’t drive, I’m drunk.” I wanted to explode.
I stared at this Scripture in Matthew
9 As Jesus went on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector’s booth. “Follow me,” he told him, and Matthew got up and followed him.
10 While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. 11 When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”
12 On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. 13 But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’a For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”
What was I doing wrong? I only desired to love these people. I wanted to see them and let them know that I did. I didn’t want to condemn them or force them into change. I wanted to grab them by the shoulders and scream “He loves you! He doesn’t care what you’ve done! He’s standing with open arms shouting, ‘Come home! I love you!’”
I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t make them see me. I couldn’t make them want what I had. So I did the only other thing I knew to do, I sat in it with them. I ripped off the 24/7 ear-to-ear smile and sat in their pain with them and I sat in my frustration and I sat in my bitterness. That’s what I think Jesus would do. I think if I ever saw him face to face at the worst possible time in my life, I think He would sit down next to me, arm around shoulder, and just sit in it with me. It’s part of the healing. It’s part of the connection. It wasn’t my need for them to lack vulnerability, it was my need to find some in myself. To show them that what they’re going through is real and that their pain- it’s valid. To stop trying to slip Jesus oh-so-subtly into every conservation, but to use His arms to wrap up another one of His children and remind them there’s grace in this world and you have to know brokenness before you can understand healing. I couldn’t heal them and I sure as heck couldn’t free them. All I could do was sit in the freedom I already knew and sit in the pain they were working through.
It was time to stop looking for opportunity and start listening for a mission. He’s there in the most unexpected places and the most unexpected people and He’s in complete control.
And because of this truth, I can let go.
Freedom sure is a beautiful thing
I can only hope that there are people in the world (but specifically people who read my blogs) that can take the craziness that swirls around in my brain and make sense of the words that it causes me to put on paper. Aside from this, I am also really really excited to be 87% funded and FIVE DAYS OUT. It’s a big melting pot of emotions and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
XOXO
Lauren
