Lessons Learned in the Midst of the Storm

I was doing some filing the other day and found a loose journal entry. 

If you know me well, you know that napkins typically hold this type of information for me before being tossed. I kept this entry for some reason, perhaps because it was so painful to write…perhaps because I never wanted to forget the lessons I learned surrounding my loss…perhaps because it needed to be in a blog post, though I didn’t realize it at the time.

I hesitate to share this with you because the last thing I want is pity. I also don’t want to offend those who worked or worshiped around me at the time. I find that we’re best at empathy or sympathy when we have just encountered a similar situation in our own lives. And maybe at the time of this writing, the folks surrounding me were in great places and so were desensitized to hurt in their midst. 

Time has passed, and my heart has healed. But at the time, I was as raw as can be. It was right around this journal entry that I made a much stronger commitment to finding life balance, and I have to believe this significant life event was the catalyst:

May 27, 2011, 7:40 a.m.

I’m not sure what to write about today. I’m hurt that no one from work or church came for my dad’s visitation or funeral. It’s amazing; these are the two places I invest the bulk of my time. But when it comes to my needing something, these people are nowhere to be found. It’s really caused me to re-evaluate things.

I’ve been worried for a long time that I was not doing a good job of balancing my work and my personal life. If I didn’t believe it before now, this is proof positive.

It’s no wonder people like me have such a hard time letting go. You want to trust others, but others just don’t seem to be able to catch you when you fall. You end up scraping your knees and twisting your wrists or ankles or both in the process. 

You brush off the gravel as everyone scurries around you, pretending to be too busy to notice. Though the pain seems to be too much, you know the only way you will get back up is if you rise on your own strength. 

Though sweat beads your forehead and your lip trembles as forerunner to the tears, you call forth all your strength and somehow make it to your feet—a great sigh, a straightening of your clothes, and a run of fingers through your hair. About the third or fourth step into your walk and people begin to say, “Oh, I heard that you fell. I wish I could have been there for you, but….” 

Excuses, excuses, excuses.

In this technological age, we have forgotten how to be authentic with one another. We’re afraid of it, or we don’t have time for it, or we have to weigh whether our actions will help us gain any status in the world.

If you have never lost anyone close, you are exactly where I was three years ago. I could go to a visitation or a funeral and feel for the survivor, but that was about as far as the burden would go. Since losing my mom in March of 2010 and my dad in May of 2011, I’ve learned a few things about hurt. I hope my little list will help you the next time someone in your life is hurting, whether to death, to a break-up, to the loss of a job, or whatever:

1. People’s needs are seldom portrayed in their actions. As a form of self-preservation, we tend to erect barriers around our emotions. Think of the troubled youth who turns a shoulder toward you, spews snide or sarcastic remarks, and generally seems intent on pressing your buttons at every turn. Since he needs a hug more than anything, why does he push you away like this? Maybe he’s fulfilling his prophesy that no one really cares about him anyway. Maybe he doesn’t know who to trust. Tell him it’s you in both your words and your actions, and mean it. 
2. There is no such thing as “not close enough.” Put yourself in the healing role of a concerned friend the next time you become aware of another’s hurt, no matter if you view this person as a mere acquaintance. Regardless of the pain’s source, people need people. And it is your willingness to extend yourself—to lay the busyness of your life aside—that will stick with them. 
3. If you want to make a difference for yourself, make a difference in the lives of others. I listened to a guy this morning talking about money management. He said that the idea of giving 10% of your money away does not make common sense in somehow having more money; he said it makes uncommon sense, and he’s right. When you give yourself, your time—when you give yourself permission to be vulnerable with another person—you gain a greater self-knowledge as well as internal strength. 
4. I’ve heard it said that, at any given time, each of us are either in the midst of a storm, just coming out of a storm, or are heading into a storm. We were not meant to withstand them alone. But if we don’t apply what we learned during our storm experiences, we will be at a loss in helping others through theirs, perpetuating this bleak state of aloneness.

Are you going through a storm and are having a tough time hanging on? How might I pray for you?

Enjoy your day. Enjoy this blog.