Six Word Saturday

Hurting heart + loving friends = renewed hope

Want to play along? All that's necessary to participate is to describe your life (or something) in a phrase using just six words. For more information - or to play along, click the button!

I am still on my 21 day journey and I am starting to feel 'alive' again - somedays I am right on track, others, not so much!  I am reading scripture more, praying more, reflecting more, and creating more and all of those things are strengthening my heart, my mind and my passion.  Some days I feel quite creative (result, the new blog design) and other days my creativity is limited ('creating' a clean place in the garage), but overall, I am moving forward...even though today started out curled up in my bed sobbing like a baby, I was able to dry my tears and laugh with friends.  God is good and I am continuing on.

Y is for Yakity Yak

I love to talk.  And talk.  And talk.  I enjoy conversation.  Well, I enjoy it when people are listening to me converse.  Talking, it comes quite naturally to me.  Listening…not so much.  Listening is something that I have had to work on.  And work.  And work.  Listening is not just about being silent while someone else speaks.  Listening involves thinking and asking and responding to what you are hearing.  Listening is an active undertaking – it is not passive.  I am much better at listening than I used to be.  I am better at asking questions, I am better at filtering out negative emotions in heated discussions to hear what is really being said – but I am not perfect at it by any means.  I have tons of room to improve. But sometimes when things are difficult to do, we are aware of our shortcomings and we make a conscious effort to change and grow.  And sometimes, when things are easy, we do not think about it – we just do it.  Talking for me has always been effortless.  I can easily fill up space with words.  And as a result – I haven't always given it much attention.  In the past, I rarely thought much of how carelessly I used words.  How inconsiderate and reckless I could be with what would jump out of my mouth. Over the years, God has been helping me with it.  He has been - and continues to be patiently teaching me to stop with the yakity yak.

The first step was when I began to focus on listening - to myself.  As I began to hear the words - really hear what was coming out of my mouth, I discovered I was spending a great deal of time with meaningless chatter.  Not that it is wrong to have light, pleasant conversations, but it is wrong to monopolize a conversation, especially if what you are saying is fairly pointless.  I also learned that I gossip.  And no, I really didn't realize it before.  Idle words, thoughtless words, words disguised as prayer requests - too many of my words were not about lifting someone up.  They were not about carefully drawing them into the presence of the LORD, but they were about disseminating unflattering information that I did not need to disseminate.

The second step to help me with my yakity yakking, was to learn to think before I spoke (yes, I know, that's not a novel idea to most people). As I started considering my words I realized that I was running to people first with my concerns and my worries, my disappointments and my hurts - not to God.  I remember a few years ago when a very close friend and I had a significant disagreement.  I remember while we were discussing our conflict she said to me, "And I already talked to several other people about this and they agree with me."  My first impulse was to get off the phone with her, and call as many of the 'several other people' I could think of and defend my name.  But instead, I turned to God.  I prayed, I read scripture, I journaled.  I prayed some more.  And overtime, our friendship was not only repaired, but God brought healing to both of our lives in a very profound way through the restoration of our friendship.  Had I instead chosen to yakity yak with my friends, under the guise of defending myself, I do not think the outcome would be the same.  People's impressions of her - and me, would have been tainted if I had ran to my own defense.

And now - I'm working on another step - not that I have fully mastered the first two yet.  But currently I am also realizing just how powerful words really are.   I am trying to not treat words with casual indifference.  I have been known to speak quickly without filtering, without considering the full ramifications of what I was saying, or rather, what someone else might be hearing.  When that occurs, I hurt people’s feelings.  I cause them to doubt themselves, and to doubt me.  I am trying to become more aware of choosing words that mean something rather than saying sounds to simply fill up empty space.  I am trying to learn to be cautious with the words that come out of my mouth.  But, I still have a long ways to go.  I still quite regularly let words fall out of my mouth that hurt and do not need to be said.  Just ask my daughters - they'll be happy to testify to that!

H is for Help

Two years ago when our oldest daughter was getting ready to graduate from high school, I decided she needed a graduation party and I proceeded to plan a Sunday afternoon open house for about 100 people. Shortly before her party, I was talking to a friend on the phone while driving home from work and lamenting about all that needed to be done for her party. She asked me who was doing her cake. “Cake?” I questioned. “I’m supposed to have a cake?” “Of course, honey,” she replied nonchalantly. “But don’t worry – I’ll make it for you.” I immediately burst into tears. Apparently, I had taken on way too much and I needed help. A lot of help – and I did not even know it. But I didn’t want help from her – not because I didn’t appreciate it, but because she had a daughter graduating from high school, she was throwing a (bigger) party, and, she was having surgery that same week. And now, she wanted to help me? I should have been helping her.

I like helping other people. I like coming alongside someone else and easing their task so they do not need to shoulder it all by themselves. But, that said, I do not like being helped with something I said I could do. It makes me feel irresponsible, weak, and incompetent when I can’t finish what I promised to complete. And when my dear friend in the midst of her stress and busy schedule offered to help me with mine – I broke down. The truth was I needed help. I needed someone to come along side me and finish what I could not. I needed her help. But, that’s what our relationship has always been - since day one.

When our oldest daughter was in eighth grade, we decided to place her in a local public school for the first time. To help with the transition of making new friends she took a drama class. At the first drama parent meeting, the teacher announced that the students would be traveling to New York in the spring and that the parents needed to work on fundraising. A few weeks later, I found myself sitting on a bench outside of a Sam’s Club, selling raffle tickets. I remember the day so very well. It was cold – bitter cold and the wind was ripping through the hall where we sat and I was freezing. The eighth grade drama students were running around, begging – I mean asking people to buy raffle tickets. Several adults were there too, chaperoning with me. One of the chaperones, an adorable woman, with chocolate brown hair, perfect make-up, beautiful jewelry and cute boots sat down next to me on the bench. She threw a blanket over us and cuddled up next to me like we were the best of friends. I was a bit startled - I didn’t even know her name, but I was cold and she was nice. So we sat there together for the next several hours laughing at the children, laughing at the people walking by, laughing at ourselves, and laughing especially hard over two of her children who were literally rolling on the ground in front of the Sam’s club door.

A few days later, she called me and asked me if I would consider joining her bunko group. I told her I would talk to my husband and get back to her. My husband and I talked about it and I told him I really wanted to do it, not because I like bunko (because, I really don’t) and not because it was nice to have a night out, and not because I needed new friends – but because I wanted a group of friends that I could minister to, that I could pray for, that I could help. And this sounded to me like the perfect opportunity.

But that’s not how it played out. From the moment I met her – she has ministered to me. She has prayed for me, loved me, cared for me and has helped me in more ways than I will ever be able to repay. She has taught me to laugh over things I never knew were funny. She has taught me how to love selflessly and fiercely. She has taught me how to stand up to wrong without fear of ‘offending’ someone. She has taught me to live with openness and transparency. And she has welcomed me into her circle of friends that has spread to my entire family. My daughters adore her and she treats them as if they were her own flesh and blood. Our relationship humbles me because it is a constant reminder that I do need, I do need help, but most importantly – I need her.

The Woman Who is New

She drives up to the large home she has never been to before and checks the address. Yes, she is at the right place. The Woman Who is New checks the time. She wonders if she is too early or too late. She wonders if she brought the right food to share with the new friends she has yet to meet. She checks her make-up. She checks the food. She checks the time, again. She gets out of the car and moves up the walkway feigning confidence. She observes the well-manicured garden and the imposing double doors. She knocks, but the music is too loud and no one hears her. She peers into the home through the great leaded glass windows and she sees the People Who Belong dancing.

The Woman Who is New takes a deep breath and opens the door. She walks in the room and glances around. Each room is filled with People Who Belong. People laughing, giggling, talking and dancing. The People Who Belong do not even notice as she walks in. They are having fun and she longs to join in – but she is a stranger to them. The Woman Who Belongs sees The Woman Who is New and smiles. The Woman Who is New smiles back at the Woman Who Belongs as warmly and genuinely as she can, but she is nervous. “What if I don’t fit in?” thinks the Woman Who is New. “What if they don’t like me?”

The Woman Who Belongs takes her by the arm and asks her name. The Woman Who is New takes a depth breath to calm her nerves and gives the obligatory answers to the usual questions as cheerfully as she can. The Woman Who Belongs introduces her to many others in the room. There are so many People Who Belong – so many who already know each other. So many who are already gathered in chairs who are already deep in conversation, who are already sitting at tables playing games that have already started, who are already dancing and the Woman Who is New imagines how already complete their lives must be and wonders if their lives are already too full to fit her in.

The Woman Who is New sits to the side, smiles, and pretends to enjoy the party. The Woman Who is New sees the People Who Belong laughing and hugging so happy to see each other. The People Who Belong are so comfortable together, so engaged with each other And The Woman Who is New concludes that they have been friends forever. The Woman Who is New begins to long for her old friends the ones who had been with her forever. The ones who knew her, loved her – but they are not here. Tonight she is not the Woman with Old Friends. Tonight, she is not the Woman Who Belongs. Tonight, she is the Woman Who is New.

But tonight she no longer wants to be the Woman Who is New. Determined, she stands up and introduces herself to the People Who are Laughing. She makes small talk and asks questions. “How do you know our hostess? What do you do? Do you live near here? How many children do you have?” And she smiles. A lot. And she walks over to the People Who are Playing Games. She asks them questions. And she smiles. A lot. Out of the corner of her eye she spies the Woman Who Belongs, enjoying her guests, her friends, and her family. And the Woman Who is New wonders where her sister who lives far away is on this night. And the Woman Who is New misses her sister who lives far away. How nice it would be to have someone here who knew her – really knew her. Someone who knew her wouldn’t need her to make small talk. Someone who knew her wouldn't need to be impressed. And The Woman Who is New begins to feel tired and sad and she looks for the chair on the side so she can sit. She searches for a place where she can fade into the wall paper and not be seen. But then she remembers she does not want to be the Woman Who is New anymore.

Taking a deep breath and pushing herself, the Woman Who is New walks over to the People Who are Eating and she asks them questions. And she smiles. A lot. The time arrives for the Woman Who is New to say goodbye to the Woman Who Belongs. The Woman Who Belongs hugs her warmly and asks her to come again. The Woman Who is New secretly hopes she is not just being polite and truly means it.

And the Woman Who Belongs really does mean it and really does invite her back again, and again. And every time it becomes easier for the Woman Who is New to walk up the walkway and easier for her to open the door and easier for her to smile at the People who Belong. Until one day, The Woman Who is New drove away from the home as the Woman Who has New Friends.