Saturday Shout-out: Thanks for answering my call

I knew my situation was not unique, but I didn't know many people personally who had been through a broken engagement.  As least not personally enough to call up and essentially say, "I am going through this hard thing that you have also been through.  Help."

I am so thankful that what could have come across as a nuisance - a random phone call digging up a past you were trying to forget - didn't seem bothersome at all.  I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders when I heard the compassion in your voice. 

Compassion: to suffer alongside.  You understood my pain, my confusion, my regret. 

You gave me the advice you wish someone would have given you.  You told me what you would have told yourself if the you now could tell the you then how to deal. 

One thing you said was a major help in processing through my emotional wounds.  You told me to let myself feel what I feel.  Your mom had wanted you to be mad and hateful, but some days you woke up devastated, without the energy to be mad or the motivation to hate.  You said you should have let yourself be sad those days or happy on the days you felt like life was okay enough to be happy about, but you stayed mad.  For a long time.  You told me to process it better, to just feel what I feel. 

It was so freeing to talk to someone who knew what to say in light of many other people in my life saying nice things with good intentions hoping to love and comfort me but really not helping.  It was even more freeing to know that I didn't have to rein in my emotions or try to decide how to feel but that it would help to just feel it all. 

And it did help.  A lot.  I could tell that my mom, too, wanted me to be angrier than I was because of how angry she was on my behalf.  I appreciated her anger and her motherly desire for pain to come to anyone who hurts me (pain that would likely be delivered by my equally angry father and brother).  Some days I was angry and hurt and wanted pain to happen to him, too.  Other days I felt bad being angry.  I felt almost in agreement with his choice not to get married.  And those feelings had their place; they needed to be just as valid.  The best days were the days I woke up feeling strong and content.  I couldn't be angry or sad on those days because that would be a step backwards.  The emotions eventually sorted themselves out as I let them come and go naturally and as God continued to care for my hurting heart. 

Thank you for this wonderful advice, friend.  Thank you for being there for me in my time of need, for being willing to meet me in my hurt and help me find my way out of it, and for being someone I could call for a lifeline.  Thank you for answering my call.  

Jealous of what?

I happen to be standing at church behind a woman I think of as much prettier than me.  She is tall and thin, and I don't know if she has ever considered being a model, but she could be.  She dresses nicely, always looks put together, and is, overall, very beautiful.   

She is one woman of many that I have been jealous of over the years.  One of many who, from my perspective at least, seems to have been born with an effortless beauty.  One of many who I have wished I could look like more than I look like myself.   

But last night at church, something changed.  A sentence happened clearly in my  brain; it was my voice, but it was not something I would say.  It seemed familiar, but it was not something I had ever thought before.  It happened the same way other thoughts normally happen in my brain, but it seemed to come from somewhere else.   

Her beauty reflects the same God as your beauty does.   

I had to sit down.  The thought washed over me, expelling the jealousy. It was oddly sudden, but I wanted to keep experiencing the truth of this thought, the clarity it was offering, so I kept repeating it to myself.  Her beauty comes from the same sources as yours.  Truth happened in my heart, truth I should have realized before but never did, truth that was expelling the shadows of lies and brokenness and imperfection.  I made her, and I made you; your beauty is not a competition, it's a cooperation.  I grabbed my notebook out of my purse and wrote things down.  I didn't want to forget this thing I shouldn't have needed reminding of.   

We are the body of Christ.  When one part is particularly beautiful, we are all beautiful.  When one part succeeds, we all succeed.  Anything good we do, have, or make, came from God, and he calls us to give it back for his glory.  I have no reason to be jealous, ever.   

I have written before about my comparison complex, how I may be content with what I have until I see someone with something better.  I have noticed, though, it doesn't work just in one direction.  I don't compare only when I come out behind; I criticize to feel right, I judge to feel better, I look down on to feel higher than.   

The second case, puffing up and feeling better, is obvious pride.  But the first is pride, too.  When I am jealous, I am still making the world about me.  When I'm jealous, I'm not being a good body member.   

I've memorized Philippians 2:3-4 before, which encourages us to have humility like that of Christ, but I always thought the verses before stuck out a bit.  I never understood how they fit in with the rest of the section until just now, when I read it in new light.   

2 So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, 2 complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3 Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 

My paraphrase to myself: Is it helpful to be part of the body?  Convenient sometimes, even?  Does it bring you joy?  How about fellowship with Christ, ya like that?  Then fellowship the right way.  Be a real team.  Don't join in only when it suits you; don't be a part of this only for what you get out of it.  Be together, really together.  Be for each other, even when it's hard.  Celebrate someone else even though it means you're not being celebrated in that moment.  Because actually, when you're really together, you're being celebrated when someone else is, too, because your King is being honored.  

Saturday Shout-out: Thanks for the ride

I called you late from an airport.  It was you I called because I knew there would be no, "I told you so" comments coming from your end of the line.  I told you that I had just broken up with my lying, cheating boyfriend, the one all my friends had been trying for months to convince me was a liar and a cheater.  I told you that I didn't regret giving him as many chances as I did but that I knew he had used up his last one.  You were patient and kind; you let me talk through my anger and my hurt with you, and you asked questions like you really cared. 

At the end of the conversation, whether you really meant it or were just trying to offer me a bit of friendly comfort, you offered me whatever I needed, even to pick me up from the airport when I flew in the next day.  I was thankful that someone was willing to catch me while I felt like I was falling in the darkness.  I spent the night at the airport and planned to fly home early the next day.  Just wanting to check my bags and get out of that airport, I ended up taking an even earlier flight to somewhere near home. 

You came and got me.  No hesitation, no questions, no taking back your offer of whatever I needed. 

What I needed was a friendly face, a loving hug, and a way home.  You came, on top of all that, with chocolate. 

I just remembered this the other day and felt badly that I had never offered to help pay for the gas to get me home.  I hope I at least thanked you profusely.  I can pay you back now, if you'd like, and I'm sorry I never thought about that before. 

When I was expecting my parents and my friends to welcome me home with proud I told you so's, you welcomed me with the selfless love of true friendship.  Thank you for being there for me when I simply needed to be loved and cared for.  Thank you for coming without judgment and with chocolate.  Thanks, friend, for the ride.