Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Broken relationship: the lie I often believe

"But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (Luke 5:16).

He went away...away from the crowds and the people and the sickness and the needs. Away.

I am reminded of how often I stay. I pretend to be strong, to be the ever-faithful servant, while all the while suffering under the weight of it all. For reasons deeply embedded in my personality and past, I am too stubborn to do the harder thing, to confront the hurt and pain that festers deep, to withdraw to lonely places and pray. So often in Christian circles we talk about dying to self, of letting go of more and more of our wants and desires as we seek to love Him and His people more. I am learning, though, that not all self-denial is healthy. Even Jesus withdrew. Even I need to take care of myself.

I remember patients I have seen, patients with painful ulcers that tunnel deep under the skin. When the ulcers are left untreated, when the pressure of sitting or laying in one position is not relieved, the ulcers only burrow deeper and damage more layers of tissue.

I hate confrontation. I'm learning, though, that sometimes it is oh-so-necessary. When it doesn't happen, when problems lay unaddressed, wounds burrow. These problems get worse and worse, until the damage is irreparable. Avoiding the excruciating pain of debriding and lancing a wound may seem more pleasant in the moment, but the longer this necessary treatment is avoided, the longer the wound will fester and the more painful treatment will become.

To be utterly honest and transparent, there are days when I hate relationships. I not only want to "withdraw to lonely places to pray," I want to run away. I want to put my heart in a dungeon and never let anyone in; I want to lock the cell and throw the key away. The pain is just too much...and no matter how hard you try to avoid hurting someone or being hurt, inevitably it comes, often unannounced. There is a voice, deep inside, that whispers, "It's just easier if you go it alone. See? If only you had NEVER initiated that friendship, or entered that relationship, NONE of this would have happened. If only you hadn't invested so much of yourself, you might have had something left after the dust settled." I know it is all a lie from Satan, but there are days when it seems all too true...

Today, I am trying to learn the balance. I am remembering that, just as Jesus withdrew, I need the peace and restoration that can only be found in the deep and quiet places of communion with the One who will never leave, who will never forsake or let down. And while relationship seems too painful right now, I was not made to survive without it.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Relationships and Death

Before that day, I trusted easily. Faults had to be revealed--people didn't start with them. Now, people start with them and trust has to be earned.

That day, my world crashed and relationships were never the same...because I realized no one is unbreakable. Everyone will shatter, even if someone else does the breaking. And because everyone will shatter, every human relationship will end in death. Every one. Oh, we try to ignore, hide, avoid a reality as disheartening as this one, but ultimately we cannot escape the truth.

That day, the truth tackled me like a giant sumo wrestler leveling his opponent.

Some days, I hate it. I hate that I think the worst, that I prepare for death before life has even begun to sprout. I hate it. And I wonder how Jesus related...the One who knows the heart of every man on earth. How could He know the truth and still relate? How could He see the black reality of sin--of pride, greed, jealousy, anger--and still make Himself vulnerable in relationship?

How do I share myself, knowing the end reality? A painter can create a brilliant masterpiece, but why should he fashion it if he knows it will only be thrown in the fire upon completion? Therein lies a deeper contemplation I rarely dare to visit.

Can it be that the momentary beauty of the painting is of such surpassing brilliance that even death cannot thwart it? Can I claw away the layers of who I am on top--the skin, the muscle--and expose my inner reality, not knowing if I will be picked clean or healed? Right now, being eaten alive overwhelms me, so I rest in this shroud of anonymity.

Maybe someday I will once again venture into nakedness, glorying in the momentary beauty of the painting rather than honing in on this reality that now stands before me, taller than Goliath.