We grow up under a lot of pressure. Every child and every adult wants to be in a place where we are accepted as we are without having to measure up, without having to perform well, without that nagging feeling that we’re not good enough, and that horrible fear of being rejected.
I remember walking the long way home to avoid having to greet somebody whom I feared would criticize the way I said “hello”. I remember being totally infatuated with a girl, but being so petrified with shyness and fear that I couldn’t dial her phone number.
It was a gradual process of growing that helped me to realize that everybody was NOT looking at me, but instead they shared the same fears that I had. While I worried what they thought about me, they were worried about what I thought of them. But of course I wasn’t thinking of them at all… just as they weren’t thinking of me.
I don’t believe that we ever totally get over our self-conscious fears, but we find places and people in our lives where we can feel that we are really welcome and wanted just as we are. Like a warm fireplace on a cold winter night, it is so very good to find such places and such people!
But please be aware that there are others who need the warmth of our fire. Wherever we go, there will be people who desperately need what we can give if we will just open our eyes, take the time, and make the effort. It doesn’t matter whether we have money or talents, we can take a moment to validate someone, just to acknowledge their presence, just to give them a smile, or better yet, an encouraging word.
My brother Danny related to me recently how that a small compliment to an eighty year old lady made her countenance to just glow! She had obviously taken a lot of time to be made up and attired to look her best, and the fact that Danny noticed (and said something!) just “made her day”.
I confess that I am not very good at this, but I am learning to be more conscious of it. The kid bagging groceries, the cashier, the precious little children going to school, so scared that they won’t fit in– they all could benefit from a little friendly acknowledgement. And particularly the ones who DON’T fit in, because for some reason they aren’t among the “cool”- they are dying, just dying - for lack of at least a kind word from somebody!
It reminds me of something another brother of mine (Joe) told me recently. He had gone to school with a boy that most people considered “fat”, and though my brother was not a close friend of his during school, at least he was nice to him and didn’t call him names. Joe related to me that fifteen years later he happened to see him at a movie theatre, and this young man was just thrilled to see Joe, and acted as if they had been long-lost close friends! Here it was fifteen years after graduation and Joe suddenly realized that this person had probably NEVER had many other friends. Just treating him with a little bit of kindness had put Joe on a pathetically short list.
Somewhere right now there is a little child, or a teenager, or a housewife, or a working man, or a senior citizen, who is fighting back the tears that come from rejection. They think that nobody understands and nobody cares. Before the day is over you will meet that person and not even know it.
I promise myself that TODAY I will try to make somebody feel better because of a kind word or a sincere compliment from me! Please do the same. Somebody out there needs it so badly, they may still remember you in fifteen years.
I have included this article to remind us of the fact that in this fallen world in which we live, with our flawed personalities, all things do not come to a joyful resolution and a neatly wrapped conclusion. We carry with us unresolved conflict, unsolved problems, and unanswered questions. Not all stories have a happy ending… at least not in this life. One of the things we must face if we are to be happy, is that we will not always be happy. Think about it; I’m not trying to be cute. We will be happier in this life if we let go of the expectation that we should always be happy! “The Road Less Travelled” put it something like, “life is difficult, but it will be less difficult if you know it will be difficult.”
When this story was first published it was the “unfavorite” of all my writings because it had no resolution. Reminds me of Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds.” Fade to black and the birds are still there. And so they are. We must deal with it.
So, what I am saying is that this may leave you with something to think about. I hope that it does. I think that most of us are haunted by some memories that can not be “fixed” with words. One more thing I am trying to do is to take my angst to God. But, like Paul’s thorn in the flesh, it will not be removed. He said that His grace is enough. But I still want it removed. And it hangs right there.
Enough apologizing for this story! Here it is:
I was so excited to be going to “camp” one summer when I was about twelve. All of the boys from the neighborhood church, and all of their friends and cousins, anybody who wanted to come and could get twenty dollars together could come and enjoy a week of swimming and baseball and hot dogs and horses and mostly just fun and foolishness. Yeah, we knew that we would be preached to a little bit, but we could endure that. We brought shaving cream so we could squirt each other, and old pillows for our pillow fights, and it was going to be such a great time with no parents and no girls. Just twelve year old boys, and a few men that they called “counselors.”
Bobby was a little bit different from the rest of us. His clothes were old and tattered, his teeth were very crooked, and he talked funny. Whereas everyone else had a suitcase, he kept his stuff in a brown grocery bag. The “cool” kids picked on him and made fun of him. Those of us who were not so cool were so glad that Bobby was there. “Better him than us” was our attitude. We felt relief that we weren’t the ones being singled out for ridicule.
What a miserable life Bobby had that week. I remember how bravely he tried to take what the other kids dished out. It was hard to see him go through that, because I knew a little of how it felt. I remembered the sting of being the last one chosen for a game of baseball or football. Believe me, you are thankful when somebody comes along who is worse. Bobby was the one who insulated me and a few others from being the most uncool.
Even now I am reluctant to admit that I, who understood what it meant to feel rejected, did not have the courage to stand up for Bobby. When “tricks” were played on him, we laughed extra loud. Whatever the cool kids did to him we did too. I was a part of the “in” group. I belonged!
On one of the last nights of the camp, something happened that none of us will ever forget. Somebody had thought up a plot against Bobby. One person was appointed to be friendly to him and engage him in conversation outside, while the rest of us absolutely destroyed all of his stuff. Everything he had, all the crafts he had made, his clothes, his sheets and blankets, everything but his Bible, we all tore to shreds. (Oh what hypocrites we were that we wouldn’t damage his Bible but thought so little of damaging his spirit.)
When Bobby came in, we all hid and watched. I will always remember watching Bobby as he discovered what had happened. This poor pathetic boy was so broken that he wailed loudly and just fell on the cabin floor, shaking and sobbing and crying with a broken heart that we had broken!
Things got really quiet as Bobby lay in a fetal position, trembling and devastated. Suddenly, things weren’t funny any more. Suddenly, nobody was “cool”. Suddenly, we all wished that we had not even come to camp. I felt a sick feeling in my stomach.
When the camp counselors came over, they were furious! Some of them wanted to just take us all home right then. They were trying to think of some way to make us pay for what we had done. We knew that we were in trouble, and we welcomed and deserved punishment. Then the head counselor came up with an idea that still today rings in my memory. Slowly and thoughtfully, he said, “Boys, you may think that you got by with something here, but I assure you that you didn’t get by with anything. I’m going to give you the worst punishment that I can possibly give. I’m not going to do anything to you, because nothing can pay back the harm that you have caused. I am sentencing each of you to a lifetime of remembering what you have done. I hope and pray that you will never ever forget this. Now go to bed.”
Nobody had to tell us that this indeed was the worst possible punishment. As we went to bed, there were no pillow fights, no shaving cream battles, no laughter, and very few words. Sometime in the middle of the night one of the counselors took Bobby home and I never saw him again.
Long long ago a writer penned the words about one who would be “despised and rejected by men- a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief”. What was done to Him was done by people like me. God knows the remorse that I feel. I truly believe, as much as it is possible for me to believe it, that I have been forgiven.
But ….Bobby…. where are you?
Things were going smoothly for the most part as I approached the weekend, but all of that changed on a Sunday night when my brother Jeff called saying that our youngest brother Joe had been found off the side of the road, lying unconscious and bleeding in a ditch, underneath his motorcycle. They had taken him to a hospital emergency room. Jeff’s words devastated me as he related, “They aren’t able to wake him up.”
My immediate reaction was emotional and sorrowful. Falling onto the floor and burying my face into a recliner, I wailed loudly, cried bitterly, and prayed with all the strength I had. I remember being so overwhelmed that I was oblivious to my surroundings and uninhibited in showing my sorrow. My brother Joe is one of my favorite human beings, and I was not prepared to lose him.
Before the next week was over my elderly mother was hospitalized, my sweet black lab “Maggie” was hit by a car, I had caught a bad cold, and my taxes were due. You’ve heard that “when it rains, it pours”, and that was the case with me. It didn’t take long for my situation to go from “pretty good” to “really bad”.
We all face stressful times. Many times we come face to face with our own helplessness. If I’m going to have problems, I would like to have them scheduled to arrive one at a time, with breaks in between. So far it has not worked out that way. But concerning pain and problems, I think that I have gained some insight over the years. I hope that when you go through hard times you will remember some of them.
One thing is that our demand to know “why” something has happened is part of the problem. Plan and pray for a smooth road in life all you want, but it’s not always going to happen. Looking for somebody to blame, demanding a solution or an explanation, it’s all a symptom of our own arrogance. The book of Job makes it clear. There is only one who understands and controls it all, and He doesn’t usually ask for my advice! He has gently reminded me that I’m not in management; I can only assist in the advertising department, and I don’t do too well in that!
If you have a tendency to think that things would have turned out better “if only”, please understand that this is a popular way of wallowing in regret while trying to assess blame. It will get you nowhere.
Another arrogant attitude is the sensational but shallow idea that a strong faith will get an immediate miraculous answer. Whatever they may show you on television, folks, the real God cannot be manipulated and doesn’t want us to be. The strongest faith is that which continues to trust, in spite of having no answers yet.
We all have a natural human tendency to run away from pain and heartbreak. We hate it. We can prevent some pain if we behave wisely, but hurts and sorrows will come to all of us. They are just a part of life in this world. Roses have thorns, bees have stingers, bugs bite, ants spoil your picnic, and birds eat your berries and then drop stuff on your head. This is all minor compared to what is done by husbands, wives, kids, neighbors, doctors, teachers, preachers, and the IRS, the CIA, and the HMOs.
When somebody is going through hard times, please spare the clichés and poems and even the Bible verses. They sound phony and hollow to the hurting soul. Henri Nouwen says that trying to “fix” somebody instead of spending time suffering with them is merely another cruel form of rejection.
God doesn’t always cooperate in our quest for an easy and comfortable existence, because He knows that hidden in the darkness and the pain from which we run, we will find Him to be more real to us than ever before. This is one of the great truths of life- that maturity and strength come as a result of adversity. Some call it “the school of hard knocks.” For some of us it’s the only school where we really learn.
I don’t want this to sound trite. Sometimes the problems are overwhelming. When it gets so bad that you don’t think you can stand it, I hope that you will give yourself permission to be human. It’s okay to cry out in protest, to complain, and even to get mad at God for a while. He can take it, and doesn’t get angry when our sincere human emotions are being expressed. Sometimes “cussin’ and spittin” is just part of being genuinely vulnerable. He is into earthy honesty, not pious pretense.
In conclusion I am so thankful to report that Joe woke up and is recovering! Mom is home and doing well, and Maggie is fine except for a broken foot! I am okay, and the taxes are done, too. Sometimes we DO get the good breaks and the happy endings! When we don’t, well, something is being built that takes a little longer.
The finished product will be worth the wait.