dahnajeen

Tonight at a restaurant, I saw a young man (30ish) sitting at a table across from an older man. Could have been his dad; I don’t know. They spoke very little. The younger man sat facing my direction, just a few feet away, so I could see him clearly.

Something was wrong. When I glanced up and saw him, I recognized, connected deeply, with what he seemed to be feeling. I have felt it too, or at least something very similar to it.  And I think I’ve had that exact same expression and posture while feeling it. He sat, seemingly paralyzed, with a look on his face of pain, shock, despair, confusion, hopelessness, hurt, or some combination of those. He did not move. Not even an eyelash. He appeared lost in some terribly unpleasant place, staring through his physical surroundings into nothing, or into something that only he could see. Maybe someone he loves just died. Maybe someone just broke his heart into a million pieces. Or maybe he is just completely overwhelmed with more responsibilities than he can possibly handle and is afraid to face tomorrow.

As soon as I saw him frozen there, I was frozen with him. I sat motionless, and stared at him, while he stared into space. I could not move or avert my gaze from him until he moved, or at least broke the stare-down he was having with something invisible, and returned to his dinner companion . . . Oh, what’s wrong poor fellow? I know whatever it is, it hurts so badly, and no one can make the hurt go away. I’m so sorry . . . Finally he kind of flinched and as he did he looked up and our eyes met for a split-second. I quickly looked away and tried not to look his way again.

Why?

Why did I look away the instant we connected? It was just a reflex? I didn’t want to invade his privacy, make him uncomfortable? Maybe all of that, but where did that reflex come from? What is it guarding against? Tonight as I was trying to fall asleep, it occurred to me that I should have held the eye contact just a little longer – not a long time, just long enough to admit that it wasn’t an accident and to give him a little smile. Maybe he would have felt my caring for him, just as I had felt his pain. What would be so wrong with that? Why must we all be strangers when really we are all part of the same fabric?

Some days I feel it more deeply than other days – the empty, achy feeling caused by the lack of something I’ve always wanted desperately, but cannot have. It doesn’t matter what it is; my point would apply to any heart’s desire denied. I’m sure I’m not the only person who has one of those. We just don’t get everything we want. I’m a grownup. I know this. I accept it. And I try every day to focus on other things and not think about it, because it breaks my heart a little bit when I do. Some days it’s easy, some days a little harder, some days impossible.

One of the things that makes it more difficult is to constantly hear (or read) other people who have this precious gift declaring enthusiastically that the REASON they have it is because God personally arranged for it to be that way for them. Yep, HE made the decision. He chose them personally and made it happen for them. They usually use the word “blessed.” (Please don’t misunderstand. The word isn’t the problem; the idea is. This just happens to be the word that is often used to express the idea.) It wasn’t luck or just the way life worked out for them. No, it was a deliberate act of God. They are THAT special.

I know they think they are just being grateful – “giving God the glory” as they say, and it has never once occurred to them that what they are saying could be hurtful to anyone. Indeed, most of them are good, kind people who wouldn’t be purposely hurtful to anyone on their worst day. But, if you just stop and think for half a minute, it isn’t really that difficult to see why it is indeed quite a hurtful thing to assert.

When I am assaulted with one of these “Look what God did for me!” raves, the response that often occurs to me is, “Wow, that’s great for you. I wish God loved me that much.” And no, I don’t really think that’s the reason. But that IS the logical conclusion if you combine their statement with my life, and we are talking about the same God. If I have to acknowledge that it isn’t God’s CHOICE for me to be lacking and hurting, then why must I accept that your good fortune IS His choice? And I do find it necessary to acknowledge the former – to believe that my lack and my pain is not his choice – because how much worse would it hurt to think there was someone claiming to love me and doing this to me on purpose? I can tell you from experience – It hurts SO much worse!

My vote (if I had one) would be for us to all admit that life just happens. Sometimes it goes your way and sometimes it doesn’t, and we can love and support each other through the ups and downs. Be thankful, yes. If you want to direct that thankfulness to God, consider doing it privately. And I will be happy for you. And I’ll always try to focus on the other good things in my life. Just please stop telling me that God specifically chose you to bless and me to ignore, because that is the essence of what you are saying. And it hurts.

Maybe you just can’t be talked out of the belief that every, single, tiny little thing that happens everywhere in the world is God-ordained, that there is no circumstance He lets take its own course. Maybe you honestly believe that God does good things for you and not for some others purposely—for His reasons which are not for us to understand. If I will accept that stance – just for argument’s sake – can you at least see how it is still rude to flaunt His decisions that favor you over others in front of those very others? You wouldn’t say to a starving person, “I am so blessed! God has provided plenty of food for me and my family” nor to the parent of a seriously ill child, “God is so good. He gave me healthy children.” Right? No, of course you wouldn’t. You would just be quietly thankful that you aren’t hungry and that your kids are okay (and maybe do something to help these less fortunate people if you are able.) So why is it acceptable to flaunt other “blessings” that not everyone has?

If this initially offends or angers you, or you think I’m just bitter or crazy and completely wrong, please sit with it a while and really think about it before landing solidly on that conclusion. I realize I’m criticizing a habit that most of us were brought up with from the cradle, and taught that it is the right thing to do, so it may be difficult to consider the possibility that it might just be wrong all over the place. But, it just might be.

(6 years later)
Addendum:
It is especially annoying, irritating, maddening, hurtful when your bragging about blessing is in regard to something/someone/some life circumstance that YOU WOULD NOT HAVE if not for the misfortune and lack of blessing in response to prayers of someone else, and it is done in a way that this person hears or sees the brag. Not cool. Bad form.
True story. Happened to me.

Related article by Scott Dannemiller:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/scott-dannemiller/christians-should-stop-saying_b_4868963.html

There is just no substitute for Daddy.  There is nothing else that can fill the space meant to be filled by a good, loving father who is actively involved on a daily basis in his children’s lives, and on a continuing basis into their adulthood.

If you HAVE one of these rare treasures — a father, who from your earliest memory, has been a constant presence in your life, whose love for you has never been doubted for a moment, who continues to love you, is interested in your welfare, and is always ready to help you with anything at any time — you probably think you adequately appreciate it. And you probably think you understand how important and precious this gift is.

But you don’t. Not really. No one COMPLETELY understands the importance of this gift except those who don’t have it. Because it has always been there, you are not even consciously aware of the firm foundation on which you stand and walk — that so very important foundation that is missing from underneath the feet of many others. They feel its absence. And sometimes they look longingly at the one on which you walk.

Do your best. Appreciate it as much as you can and show that appreciation to him every chance you get.

If you ARE one of these rare treasures — these great men who adore their children, show them lots of affection, gently but firmly teach them what they need to know about life, and are always there for them when they need you — you may think that you are just doing your job, and even more, it isn’t even work because you just love your kids so what’s the big deal?

It IS a big deal. You probably think there is nothing that impressive about what you are doing. You probably think that you feel good enough about yourself. But you don’t. Feel even better please, and accept the gratitude coming to you. You just cannot overestimate the importance of what you are doing. You are changing the future for the better. You are making better and happier adults to be a part of society.

And, if you are one of those who missed out on having this gift of Daddy yourself — you are breaking a chain. You are stopping pain in its tracks before it gets to your children. I wish there were more of you. I wish no one had to be without that firm foundation and protection that you are for your children. You are changing the course of your family’s future and guiding them to a better place. As long as your children live — even when they are old and you have gone on — they will be better off, whether they know it or not, just because you were their Daddy.

Once, years ago, I noticed this beautiful head of hair in front of me in a public place. I thought it was a young woman with platinum blonde hair. Then she turned around and I saw that she was – though quite lovely – not a young woman, but probably in her late 60s.  I realized her hair was gray, not blonde.  Wow, so pretty, I thought – why would anyone ever dye that?  Over the years I’ve noticed other similarly lovely heads of completely, naturally, silver or white hair. As my hair started to get, as I call it, “sparkly” on top, I started admiring these beautiful natural gray heads even more. I began to wonder what a full gray head of hair will look like on me, and how my gray hair will be different from the way it is now other than color – maybe it will seem thicker like when I highlight it. How interesting it will be to watch my hair completely change color all by itself without having to pay for it. It will be sort of like when it changed from almost white blonde when I was little to strawberry blonde by high school (and then whatever color this is by this age.)  I don’t remember ever having any worries about going gray anyway, but if I did, they dissipated as I looked at the pretty gray heads I saw here and there. Eventually, I even began to look forward to going gray.  And THEN, I became PROUD of myself for looking forward to it! As I shared this enlightenment and healthy attitude with my lovely hairdresser, Annmarie, she listened silently, examining my hair all the while I talked.  When I finally shut up, she responded with, “Yeah, yours isn’t gonna do that.”  Poooof.  Sigh.  Guess I’ll have to find something to like about getting wrinkly.

We are all connected, joined together by invisible threads.

When we hurt one other person, we hurt ourselves, hurt humanity.

Each of us is all of us.

Love each other.

Here’s how it would be in my world:

There would be no such thing as Christmas once a year.  All of the good things about Christmas would be divided evenly by 12 and scattered throughout the year.  (All of the bad things would be divided as well.)

• The poor and hungry are always with us; they would be donated to and thought about all year long.
• People living in institutions, like the Denton State Supported Living Center for instance, live there all year long and would probably enjoy little gifts and visits every month of the year just as much as they do in December; they would get that.
• People would buy gifts for loved ones occasionally just because they happen to see something they know that person needs, or would enjoy; gifts would have more meaning, and the stress of HAVING to find SOMETHING/ANYTHING at a certain time of the year would be eliminated.  And they WOULD find things they wanted to buy because the people who design, create, and market all the things we like to consume would let some stuff out of the box all year long instead of withholding everything until the Consumer Frenzy Season.
• Stores would sell a little more all year long, instead of waiting until “Black Friday” (aptly named for reasons other than the one given, in my opinion) to turn profitable.  We would be able to go to the store for routine purchases in December without having to fight massive crowds and crazy traffic.
• We would still get just as much time off from work and school, and we could still use that time to get together with our families, catch up on whatever, shop, go on vacations, etc.
• The pressure and expectation of having just the right family/life situation would no longer be concentrated and dumped all at once on people who do not have that, causing some to sink into depression – and some even to succumb to despair to the point of just deciding to end it all.
• People who want to enjoy fantasies as the source of good things with their children would still be free to do so if they wished – maybe Santa would come down the chimney on the first of each month in those houses with just one toy for each child, instead of once a year with a whole bag.  And those who want to always tell their children the truth could do that too, still buy nice things for their children, and let the children say “Thank-you!” to the person who actually bought it or made it for them.
• As far as all those lights and decorations – well those are pretty any time of year.  Maybe not snowmen in Arizona (ridiculous) or elves or reindeer, or anything else that makes no sense, but why not have buildings and trees lit up with pretty colored lights to enjoy every evening while we walk about in our less stressed and hurried shoes, buying something maybe or maybe not, and just enjoying the pretty sights?
• Most importantly, for those who really want to celebrate it once a year as Jesus’ birthday, maybe they could start celebrating that at a time of year that approximates the time of year Jesus was actually born on earth, instead of on a co-opted Pagan holiday that originally had nothing to do with him (in fact had some pretty horrifying, evil traditions.)  The ideal of peace on earth, good will towards man could be shouted from the rooftops then, and I believe be more likely to be practiced every day of the year.

I want to tell you something about people who have had their hearts broken.I don’t mean a teenage crush not working out; I mean a really, truly, thoroughly BROKEN heart. That isn’t always from a romance; in fact I think the worst ones usually aren’t.

Maybe the first man or woman they ever met broke their heart (a parent.)

Maybe a repressive, abusive religious upbringing did the damage.

Or maybe being an outcast for some reason beyond their control or understanding.

Maybe their heart was broken because their child was hurt badly . . . or worse.

Maybe they have experienced loss you can’t even imagine.

Real heartbreak comes from any number of sources. And it is amazing the degree to which people can heal and appear basically normal eventually. If you are one of these people, then you already know this. But for the rest of you, here is what I want you to know about these people:

They know things that you do not. Don’t judge how they see the world using a measure calibrated with how it looks through your eyes.

Skidding  . . . Spinning  . . . Rolling  . . . Screaming  . . . Boom!  Wish I would hurry up and get to the part where I’m surprisingly OK.

I’ve told a few people about the car wreck I had in 2004.  It was awesome.  Best car wreck ever.  My Isuzu Rodeo skidded in the rain, spun 360 degrees, and then rolled over and over into a ditch.  I landed passenger side down.  The only broken glass was the rear window, giving me a place to climb out.  I was driving alone, no kids in the car.  Just before leaving on this trip, I had thoroughly cleaned out the car, so I didn’t have to worry about all my belongings being all over the place.  The only things I had with me were my purse – ZIPPED closed (see characteristics of the perfect purse in another article) and the book I was reading at the time (I think it was Dorothy Parker.)  I took these two items and climbed out the rear window, much to the wide-eyed astonishment of a man who had apparently seen the wreck and stopped to help.  I think he expected to find someone dead or paralyzed – which is exactly what I was expecting while spinning and rolling.  But I was not even bruised or scratched!  I wasn’t even SORE the next day, or ever, from this wreck.  The car was totaled, and we had Gap insurance, so this got me out from under a car I totally could not afford.  I’ve made the joke a few times – I was “upside down” on my car loan, so I just turned the car upside down and that fixed it.  My husband had recently bought a junky but good little used car that I could drive, so I didn’t even have to go car shopping.  Everything about this was good for me!  There is absolutely nothing about this incident I would have changed . . .

EXCEPT for just this one little thing:  At the beginning of it, I would know how wonderfully it would end; then I could have enjoyed it!  That spinning and rolling – if I knew it wasn’t going to hurt me, that would have been so much fun – Wheeeee!  A pretty great thing was happening to me, but I didn’t know that until it was over.  At a certain point, I was quite aware that I had absolutely NO control over what happened to me next.  All I could do while the car tumbled was offer up the Terrified Scream Prayer.  (In case you don’t know, that prayer goes like this, “HELP ME! HELP ME!  HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME!” – as loud and fast as you can manage.)  Then, BAM!  Everything was still, I was ok, and the perfection of what had happened began slowly and over the next few days to unfold before me – not hurt, no more car payment, lost absolutely nothing, and had a bit of an adventure to boot.  To this day, my Ex sometimes asks me if I want to drive his truck for a while, implying maybe I could repeat the performance and get him out from under a big vehicle loan.  Haha, David you’re funny. 🙂

The other good thing about that wreck is that it gives me a great metaphor for what I’m going through in my life now – wondering if I’m going to get a teaching job, and if I’ll really be able to handle it if I do get one.  Even if I do get a job, even if it is the perfect job, and I am great at it, I already know that, best case scenario, it is going to be just-barely-actually-not-quite-but-I’ll-make-it-work on time before I am completely, seriously, not even kidding, BROKE.  So, I sort of see this period as like when I was in the middle of the slow-motion wreck, before I found out how OK everything was going to be.  I’m seriously scared, and part of my brain is definitely screaming, but I’m trying to also remember how that wreck turned out, and enjoy this ride, hoping that soon I’ll hear a big BAM, and start seeing how OK everything is going to be.

Then if that happens, wouldn’t I feel silly for not enjoying and making the most of all of this free time?  So far, since being unemployed this summer, I’ve gotten some big projects taken care of that really needed taking care of.  I feel so much satisfaction from that and I’m looking forward to tackling a few more of those.  I’ve spent more time with loved ones, and plan to fit in some more of that soon—haven’t gotten to everyone yet.  I’ve been available to help someone who needed my help, but I usually wouldn’t have been able to give it.  And today I’m off to spend some time with my nephew and I’m going to enjoy the stuffing out of it.