There is a movement afoot, and it is a vital one. It seems to me that we are finally accepting that the world is full of broken people, and it’s time we stopped pretending like we aren’t.
The reality that most (if not all) of us are stumbling along the path of life is nothing new, for sure, but I feel like the acknowledgement and embracing of it is new. Continue reading “Beautifully Broken”
There is a tiny little space that can make all the difference in our relationships, according to The Book of Me. (That’s not really a book (yet) but it is more fun to say than “in my opinion.”) The results of creating this minute space can ripple far beyond the immediate.
What exactly is this space? I call it the Quiet Space—the time between listening to what someone has said to you and replying to it. It is that time where we have heard what the other person has said, processed it (at least in part), and thought about what our reply should be. Because our brains are so amazing, this only takes a moment, but it can be a truly powerful one.
I’ve lived enough years and paid enough attention to life to know that a common thing pretty much everyone wants is to feel truly heard—to be understood. I know I do. Maybe that’s why I love writing so…it is filled with quiet spaces of thought and a desire to be understood.
I also have enough self-awareness to know that I am guilty of thinking of the next thing I want to say rather than giving my full attention to the one speaking. This is particularly evident in an argument—when I am busy getting my next line of defense in order, rather than digesting what words are coming my way.
Very human…and also very frustrating.
If two people are not allowing for quiet space, they are merely speaking at each other, not to each other and will most likely find this as satisfying as slapping their respective heads against the wall. I’m pretty sure we’ve all been there and have the flat foreheads to prove it.
With a little quiet space and a feeling of being understood, arguments can slow down and maybe even come to a resolution (a what?) rather than adding logs to the fire.
But the quiet space doesn’t just help end combat—it also acts as a net for those you love to know they can fall into.
Let’s peek in on this imaginary scenario: maybe you’re sipping a coffee at a local establishment doodling on your phone when the table next to you is having an intimate conversation. (I have to say, I think people at these places believe that each table is a soundproof room or something, because LOTS is shared…and loudly…so even though I want to play QI for the 3648 time on Words with Friends, I can’t help but overhear…)
The first friend shares, “I don’t know what to do. He said he’s done trying and wants out. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine,” her friend responds. “He’s probably just trying to make a point. I can’t tell you how many times George has said something like that to me. I remember one time when…” and off she goes to tell her hurting friend about something from her own life, rather than truly digesting what her friend has said and responding to it.
Now, the “listener” isn’t a bad person…she’s just not letting her friend’s words get all the way into her heart. For whatever reason, we all too often respond with a “me, too” or a quick bit of advice, rather than letting the words sink in and register. With a little honoring of the quiet space, the chance to let some real compassion grow increases a bunch.
If the listener hears and processes why her friend is sharing, her response might take a totally different turn into something like, “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. No wonder you’re confused—this is tough stuff.”
And instead of just swapping marital war stories, the friend now feels as though she has a safe place to share her hurt.
I think this can move mountains when it comes to connecting with one another.
Think of the impact we can have in our daily lives and the lives of those we care about with a little more quiet space and a little less need to fill the void with our own next (very important!) words.
Some quiet space goes a long way in letting real communication happen. It gives us the chance to understand the other person and measure our own response. What a wonderful opportunity!
And there is no risk involved—only the promise of gain. What an awesome investment of time.
Don’t neglect the power of the quiet space. It is in fact the absence of an immediate response that can speak the loudest of all. You gotta love the irony.
Today’s Frabjous Friday post is simple: I totally need to hear this song today.
Maybe you do, too.
I am so grateful for and so desperately in need of grace.
Maybe you are, too.
Thank God his grace finds us.
Thanks for this beautiful song, Matt Redman.
[Email subscribers: please remember you will have to click through to my blog to view the clip.]
When a new year comes, some people like to choose a word for themselves that will frame the year ahead. I have never been one to be so proactive and seek a “word of the year” for myself, but this year the word found me.
My friend Suzanne writes a beautiful blog, and one of her posts placed the word right in my lap. She had written a piece about the tragic loss of her friend’s son. In her beautiful way, Suzanne honored the young man and shared that, “Like a pebble skipped on the lake that Jake adored, his life created ripples that will continue forever.”
There it was.
Ripples.
Now, I have often used the word as a way to describe how the actions we take cause effects, etc., but sometimes when a word is placed in a certain context, it just jumps off the page and changes you.
Ripples.
It made me think about how I wanted to be more mindful of life’s ripples. Both the ripples that I create with my actions, and the ripples that touch me through others’ actions. It made me think and feel.
Interestingly enough, Suzanne and I became friends through someone else’s ripple effect. Our mutual friend Kathleen connected us, and though Kathleen has found her way Home, her touch continues to ripple into the lives of many, many people. Kathleen left ripples that, like Jake, will continue forever.
The film It’s a Wonderful Life has made its way into several of my posts, and I love it dearly. I think one of the many reasons it is my favorite movie is that from a very young age it helped me understand the power of ripples. If George Bailey had never been born, life would have been drastically different for many people—people he never understood he had an effect on because the ripples of life undulate long past our immediate surroundings.
And so, in 2014, my guiding word is ripples. What am I doing that is putting in motion ripples of kindness and compassion? What should I think twice about because it might ripple on in a way that could cause hurt? What will I do with my days that will reach out and leave someone feeling a little bit better about life?
My words and actions matter.
So do yours.
And so I will be even more thankful for the ripples of kindness shown to me. The sweet words from a friend who wants me to know I count. The way it feels when someone actually listens if I risk going beyond “I’m fine” when they ask how I am.
I will cherish the people in my life who truly connect with me in both giving and receiving—where it’s not just a one-way street that can leave me feeling as though I am the only one who cares.
I won’t forget how it felt when a friend and coworker made a meal for my family when my mom was in the hospital or the words of concern and care from another even though her own life is tossed on its head.
So often we can leave positive ripples by just being present and showing someone that they matter. And then what? How might that ripple continue on? We all know of stories about how someone offered care at a moment that, unbeknownst to them, was the breaking point for the other person, and the help came at a critical turning point.
We simply do not know all that others are dealing with. Our simple acts of kindness might leave more of an impact than we could have ever known.
A very dear friend of mine was a teacher for thirty years. She is one of the most caring people I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine how far her ripple extends in the lives she has touched both in and out of the classroom. I truly believe that for generations to come, her impact will be felt.
She is just one example of those I know who, if Clarence came down and showed them how the world would be without them, it would be a much sadder place.
Ripples…big or small…they extend out to the world. Who knows how far those ripples will undulate or where they might reach, but they matter.
God has each of us on this earth for our own personal, special reason. And though I’m still striving to understand mine, while I’m on the journey, I hope I am creating my own ripples of love and understanding…
one
little
pebble
of care
at a time.
Recently I joined a conversation between two women that had an all-too-familiar topic. The one woman was probably in her early 60s and the other in her 30s. Both were beautiful women, but the older one was sharing what she would have “done” if she could. She then proceeded to mention a couple areas of her body she disliked.
The topic morphed into what we would change if money or risk were no option. Sadly, we all had lists.
Why do we think this way about ourselves?
My ‘dislike’ list for myself is easy to answer and not lacking in numbers. It includes my nose, my thick thighs (well, it used to be just the thighs…now the thickness is less picky and more all-encompassing), my chubby thumbs, and much more.
And that’s just the list for physical attributes. There’s so much more to include if we want to go beyond looks.
Now ask me for the ‘like’ list, and…wait. For a while. Hmmm.
Why is it so easy to be critical and so hard to be loving to ourselves? Why is it that the bad wins big in our world of self-assessment?
Damned if I know.
What I do know is that it’s no good. It’s no good in a world that is already far too critical to add to the negative with a long list of personal dislikes.
We need to hit the ‘like’ button on ourselves.
Have you ever talked to a person who has shared a dislike about themselves that you don’t even notice? Or maybe you do see it but think it’s a beautiful part of who they are? And then you share that with them and you can tell that they don’t believe you?
We are too hard on ourselves.
And it doesn’t work in our favor, either. I may think that being tough on myself results in higher standards or creativity or productivity—or whatever. But the truth of the matter is it just adds to the failure pile.
It doesn’t add to our worth. In fact, it gives our sense of worth a kick in the ass.
Take something as silly as thumbs. My thumbs are short and chubby—just like my mom’s. I’ve had people call them club thumbs, toe thumbs, little fat thumbs, even penis thumbs (lovely)…I have been teased since I was a kid about those damn thumbs. They are indeed different. And all my life, I’ve looked at people with long, slender thumbs and envied them. What? That’s right—I have thumb envy.
Really? Is that a shortcoming (pun intended) that I actually need to feel shame about? Intellectually I know the answer is absolutely not. Emotionally…damn, I wish I had thumbs that could bend a full ninety degree angle.
As I have said here before, I often write on things that I need to hear, and today is certainly a day for that. I must admit that I need to hit the personal ‘like’ button more.
My husband will tell you that I am not great at accepting criticism from others, and that is true. Sometimes I think it’s because I’ve already given myself such a heavy dose of it that I am not willing to gladly accept any more, leaving me fairly defensive. Maybe it’s easier to battle back when it’s someone else doing the talking rather than my own head’s self-talk. Whatever the case, the irony is not lost on me.
Obviously, I don’t have any easy answers to offer here. I struggle with being hard on myself just like so many others do. But I do know I want to change that—that I need to change that. And I hope if you are someone who is reading this and thinking, “me, too!” that you will push yourself to snuggle up and love yourself no matter what. No matter what.
Now, that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t strive to better ourselves in healthy ways—because we are all works in progress that can grow to be better throughout our lives. But when it comes to loving ourselves at the core, we should remember a key factor to begin with: God made us…and he loves us—and that ought to be a great place to start in accepting those chubby thumbs just as they are.
This Frabjous Friday post is simple, short, and sweet. It’s a kitten video. You don’t like kitten videos? You can go suck it. Oops. Sorry. That seems rather counter to the Frabjous Friday spirit I aim to cultivate. How about “you can go and inhale quickly and deeply” (especially if you’re in Colorado)?
At any rate, this little video lifted my spirits, and I hope it does the same for you.
I, for one, could sure use more hugs like this:
How about you?
Thanks to my niece Monica for sharing this video on Facebook yesterday! What a viral world we live in!
[Email subscribers: please remember you will have to click through to my blog to view the clip.]
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