God has put all kinds of teachers in our path They’re disguised as bosses and baristas, friends and foes, artists and authors. And daughters.
Monday was our daughter, Katy’s 28th birthday. She celebrated with friends in D.C. where she lives. As a mom, celebrating her from afar, I started to think of some of the things she’s taught me in the past 28 years. Here are just a few: Continue reading
I’m not sure, but I think maybe the most crushing phrase Satan can whisper in our ears is “You’re the only one.”
You’re the only one who’s ever made a mistake that bad.
The only one who hasn’t had a date in a year (or three).
The only one who didn’t get that job or didn’t get into that school or wasn’t invited…
The only one who hasn’t done something important like marching on Washington or getting published or feeding the hungry in Calcutta.
You’re the only one small enough to feel jealous or sensitive about that stupid thing. Remember? Like that thing I confessed here on Friday.
But then God gives a gift. The gift of friends who put their arm around us and whisper “Me too.
They say “It’s really ok. We’re all messes. All fixer-uppers. And I still love you.”
The other day after my post I took a walk on the beach with my dear friend… the sun so bright, the rolling tide so steady – dancing with the sand in a frolicky way, not rough and mean like it can be some days.
And my friend asked some gentle questions and she listened and poured grace like she was pouring me a tall glass of sparkling icy tea. Like she always does. And she shared a little of her own “maybe I’m the only one” stuff.
Though the exact words may not have been spoken, everything about our conversation said “Me too.” and “I still love you.”
It feels like God provides these safe friends for a glimpse of the divine. They remind us we’re not alone.
And then, like when the surf after a storm has left a lot of junk on the beach, our friends help us sift through the broken bits and find the beauty that’s still there. The bright pieces of sea glass and the intact sand dollar that has survived the pounding.
So today I’m thankful for friends who say “Me too.” and “I still love you.” and “There’s still beautiful treasure in the mess.”
It’s Monday morning.
Yep, you may have had a stellar weekend picnicking in the sun, biking, going to the beach (like one of my daughters), listening to jazz outdoors in the park (like the other daughter), but now it’s Monday in all its Mondayness. And the week stretches out in front of you like a flat road across the barren pan-handle of Oklahoma.
Before you buckle down and get to work, or answer emails, or start the laundry, read on. It may make you feel better about your day.
Awhile ago I was listening to the radio and a woman called in with an experience that was, um…unbelievable except that it really happened.
Tomorrow I am meeting with a friend for coffee. I’ve been praying like crazy because I love this person and it’s because I love them that I’m anxious about our conversation.
I have some concerns. I’ve noticed some things that I feel like God may want me to caution this person about. But I have nothing to gain personally, and everything to lose relationally. And…I may be wrong.
Like many of you I’m pretty much a people-pleaser. I avoid saying hard things almost as much as I avoided hopping on the Yoga band-wagon.
So I’ve been thinking a lot about the Jesus way of hard conversations. As I’ve prayed and looked for examples in Scripture, here are a few questions I’ve asked myself:
1. Do I have enough of a relationship with this person to have this kind of conversation? Have I built trust? Do they know more than anything else that I love them and am for them?
2. Are they open to letting me speak into their life in this way? Am I assuming a role that I shouldn’t? Or is this a Nathan situation (2 Samuel 12:1)?
3. Am I going into this conversation prayed up and having examined my heart for messy motives? Is my desire to speak rooted in pride or control?
4. If this really is a case of iron sharpening iron, am I open to the roles being reversed? Am I receptive to hearing something from this friend that might be hard for me to hear?
5. Am I going in with a humble spirit, asking questions more than making pronouncements, willing to listen and admit I may not be seeing things clearly?
6. People hear criticism like you’re using a bull horn and affirmation like you’re whispering it in the middle of a violent wind storm. Have I figured out how to integrate grace and affirmation throughout our conversation? And if there was just one concern I’d want to make sure this person heard, what would it be?
The title of this post was misleading. There’s no magic formula and if there is, I don’t know it. I’m just a learner who is stuttering her way through – all Colin Firth in “The King’s Speech”. Anyone can make a list of questions. But a real conversation?? “Come Holy Spirit” is about all I know to say for sure.
What am I missing? What would you add?
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