Our hard-driving, always-too-much-to-do-culture does not, I think, appreciate the importance of stillness and quiet.
We are hyper-connected via crackberries and iEverythings. That 5 day work week expands to 7 when you can check email remotely.
Sometimes life throws the most intense curve balls. Children are afflicted with incurable diseases. Parents traveling home from a party are killed in a car crash leaving their 3 young children orphans. An earthquake kills hundreds of thousands of people in what feels like the blink of an eye. Terrorists drive planes into buildings that buckle and crumble. An unexpected lay off. A spouse walks out.
Some people are completely undone by events like these. And others seem to have a resilience that is almost inexplicable.
Having endured a fair number of Life’s Curve Balls myself I have often wondered what sets apart the people who soldier on from those that crumble under the weight of trials and tragedies. In story after story that has been shared with me the common denominator seems to be faith in God – and an understanding that there must be a purpose to it all. Viktor Frankl, the concentration camp survivor and psychiatrist, wrote about this in his book Man’s Search for Meaning.
This faith, this purpose-focused understanding, is what has been my anchor in times of trial. I don’t have to KNOW what God’s plan or purpose is – but I can believe that He has one. And that belief can make all the difference in the desire to keep on keeping on.
When my marriage fell apart and I was trying to reconcile all of the whys and whats about it, I came across a book called The Blessings of Brokenness by Charles Stanley. That book challenged me to change my focus from “why me God?” to “what do you want me to do with this, God?” That shift in thinking helped me see a future that had been hidden from my depressed view.
If you are in the fire of trials or tragedy. I highly recommend this book.
Every day I look forward to my emails from Heart to Heart with Holley. Today’s reflection summed up what I am grateful for – especially today.
There’s grace enough for this girl – please click on the link to read the whole thing. You’ll be blessed by it I’m sure.
Life is busy.
What adult doesn’t get completely overwhelmed with the demands of work, family life, community responsibilities and the like? Sometimes just the demands of work are enough to consume more of the day that we have to give.
I am blessed to work for an association committed to maximizing human potential. And today we talked about re-organizing the company to maximize our potential by changing our focus.
Which got me to thinking about how appropriate that very idea is for personal lives.
A personal re-org.
Love is a verb.
We like to think it’s a noun, all about feelings and giddyness and chocolate hearts or diamond rings.
It’s not.
Play to your strengths.
That is advice I have heard in multiple ways and myriad circumstances. It works for actors, athletes, CEOs, managers, new employees, students, people.
I had a couple of conversations related to this topic with different people today. I also read an article in a publication from Britain about the topic too. These conversations were related to my job as a communications manager, but I’ve learned that when several messages or events in my life start coalescing around a common theme it’s one way God uses to get my attention.
At the heart of the matter in this case is the idea that often times we have , or have been given, or choose to play roles that have nothing to do with our strengths. Sometimes these roles actually go against our talents and sometimes the roles take our talents to a new level. Oftentimes it is our level of engagement -or self awareness and self respect – that dictate the outcomes.
But when the role vs. strength disconnect exists we usually have a feeling of discomfort or unease. We work harder than we have to because we don’t feel confident in our ability to meet the expectations of the “role” we need to fill. We doubt. We fear. We complain that things are too hard. We dial back and procrastinate because we can’t bring ourselves to do that which we feel inadequate to do.
Sometimes when our roles don’t fit our strengths we short-circuit our own success. We can do this professionally. And we can do this personally.
Investing in a little navel gazing is a good thing and it can reap big rewards.
When we spend the time to really come to know ourselves – to identify our strengths and weaknesses, to recognize the gifts God has given us, and those He has not, when we honestly assess our wants, needs, hot buttons, and areas for growth – we are actively participating in our own success.
Sometimes the Work Obligations + The Daily Task List + The Honey-Do List + The Kids Need This List + The I’m Tired Reality all combine to put The Beauty of Navel Gazing somewhere near the bottom of our priority lists, probably after cleaning toilets. We don’t value ourselves enough to invest some quality time and thinking into who we are, what our strengths are, where our disconnects are and why they’re there. We limit our potential when we make the choice to put Navel Gazing at the bottom of the task list.
As summer winds down, and spin-up to fall activities begins, treat yourself to some navel gazing. Take inventory of your strengths with as much attention and focus as you give to switching out your closets for fall, or determining whether the kids have all the clothes and school supplies they need for the coming academic year.
You are worth the investment.
I just finished reading The Shack. I mentioned that I was reading it on my Facebook page and received a variety of feedback from believers and non-believers, those who hated it and those who loved it.
I liked it. A lot.
What would the world be like without the labels we apply to people?
I asked my teenage daughter that question and she didn’t hesitate: “Better.”
Imagine.
Imagine a world without the presumptions that accompany labels like:
Rich/Poor/Smart/Stupid/Popular/Geek/Loner/Loser/Liberal/Conservative/Right Wing/Left Wing/Stoner/Jock/Homeless/Psycho/Retard/Wimp/Cool/Hot/Gross/Nerd. You get the idea.
Sadly, I think our tendency to label others is part of our human nature. We categorize people, sometimes to help us sort out those we want to have relationships with from those we don’t. But at the end of the day, if we’re honest with ourselves, our labeling is really a form of judgment.
And judgment, especially coming from we imperfect people, is a tricky thing.
The idea of judgment and its negative implications in our lives has been sitting heavily on my heart since reading The Shack. There is an especially poignant passage I’d like to share that I hope will spark some thinking of your own about the judgments you hold and how they color the way you interact with the people on the other end of your gavel.
In this particular section, Mack, the main character, is having a conversation with the personification of God’s wisdom. She is a beautiful woman, as depicted in the Book of Proverbs, and her name is Sophia. Without giving away too much of the story for those who have not yet read the book, Mack has endured a horrific loss that has impacted his family. He is mad at God but won’t fully admit it. Mack is on a journey of healing and along the way meets a different incarnation of God, each of which has some new insight to add to his understanding of himself and God. In this interchange, Mack has been told that he is going to get to judge God and the world.
“What? Me? I’d rather not,” he paused. “I don’t have any ability to judge.”
“Oh, that is not true,” returned the quick reply, tinged now with a hint of sarcasm. “You have already proven yourself very capable, even in our short time together. And besides, you have judged many throughout your life. You have judged actions and even the motivations of others, as if you somehow knew what those were in truth. You have judged the color of skin and body language and body odor. You have judged history and relationships. You have even judged the value of a person’s life by the quality of your concept of beauty. By all accounts, you are quite well-practiced in the activity.”
Mack felt shame reddening his face. He had to admit he had done and awful lot of judging in his time. But he was no different than anyone else, was he? Who doesn’t jump to conclusions about others from the way they impact us. There it was again, his self-centered view of the world around him. He looked up and saw her peering intently at him and quickly looked down again.
“Tell me,” she inquired, “I may ask, by what criteria do you base your judgments?”
By what criteria indeed do we judge others?
When Mack does not come up with a reasonable answer, Sophia says the following: “Judging requires that you think yourself superior over the one you judge.”
Reading that sentence and the preceding paragraph about how we judge hit me like an arrow to the heart. Literally I felt that conviction pierce me. Yes, I judge others. I judge them based on the impact they have on me. I judge them based on my biases, experiences, expectations, perceptions of reality — on any countless number of influences. But I never really thought of myself as superior in my judging.
And yet of course, there is a piece of superiority that is implicit in judgment.
Scripture states, “Judge not lest you be judged.”
Who are we to judge? Really? Who are we to bring the gavel down on the actions, motivations, thoughts, or opinions of another? I’m not talking about a milky tolerance and political correctness in which everyone gets along and divergent opinions don’t exist. I’m talking about the heart condition that prevents us from real dialogue and relationship because we slap a label on someone based on our own limited understanding of who they are — or who they appear to be based on our biased lens — or who others have told us they are based on their limited and biased lens.
What does judgment do to relationships?
It prevents them from fully blossoming or healing.
I think this occurs most often in families, in the relationships with people who may know us best, but who also push buttons that exist because of a shared history. In those relationships we automatically assume things about each other. They are “unreasonable,” “difficult,” “distant,” “selfish,” “workaholics,” “slackers.” They “always” do something or they “never” do another thing. Often times these judgments lie below the surface, quietly floating like undetected oil in the Gulf of Mexico. But then a storm brews and in that storm the first things that come to the surface are those labels and judgments. The fights become circular — spinning around the eye of of judgment — and resolution or healing get lost in the process.
I have a lawyer friend who calls these judgments our “list of indictments” against the other. When I first heard that term I chuckled, because it seemed so “lawyerly.” But as I’ve reflected on it over the years I find it sadly true. A list of indictments presumes guilt and wrongdoing, intentional hurt, and perhaps most sad, record keeping of the wrongs done.
How do you grow a better relationship out of such a list of indictments? How do your nurture a relationship out of judgment?
I think a beginning to breaking the cycle is to look in the mirror and ask yourself, “Am I perfect?” An honest assessment of our own shortcomings and failings – our own biases and presuppositions – should, if we’re honest with ourselves, start to thaw the ice of the judgments we hold toward others. When we are willing to check our own “stuff” to do the very hard work of looking inside to see what is broken in our own lives, I do think it frees us to listen with more open hearts and minds to what others have to say.
I’m not saying there will be rainbows and unicorns dancing in fields of daisies in every relationship in our lives. There will be some people with whom we will never agree and never want to be in relationship with. I am suggesting that recognizing our own shortcomings, and the role we play in our relationships’ success or failure can help move those relationships to a deeper level. But it has to start with our own hard work. Our recognition of our own biases and preconceptions, our own fears and failures, our own hopes and dreams.
None of us are perfect. But we are perfectly capable of being better.
And we do not have to judge another in the process.
I just finished reading “The Shack.” I mentioned that I was reading it on my Facebook page and received a variety of feedback, from believers and non-believers, those who hated it and those who loved it.
I liked it. A lot.