Paul passed away. I didn’t go to his funeral.
It would have been awkward. You see, I never met Paul, never spoke to him. I only know him because he was a dear friend of my friend, Lisa. We had been praying for his healing for months. He had been doing well, and we didn’t see this coming. We were both devastated. After he died, she told me, “We were part of this. This is what God let us see. We were witnesses.” Witnesses. That word resonated with me. To witness is to look upon, look into. It’s active, not passive, not a glance or a gaze, but really seeing. It’s focusing, paying attention. A witness has a level of intimacy that a bystander or observer do not. A witness is an insider, privy to births and deaths, birthdays and anniversaries, to milestones great and small, public and private, mundane and quiet. A witness in a trial testifies, under oath, that their part of the larger story is the truth as best they know it, as honestly as they can tell it. They express what they experienced--what they saw, what they heard. Nothing more. Nothing less. They don’t guess at anyone else’s part. If they do, it’s considered conjecture and dismissed. They can only relate the parts of the story they know to be true. It takes courage to bear witness, to expose part of yourself to people who may not believe you belong in the story, or who wish you didn’t. They may not believe your part of the story. They may reject it, and possibly you. But no one can take away what you see, hear, or feel. They can’t tell you what you experienced. Your witness is your own, TO own. Right here, right now, you are reading my words, and are therefore privy to my thoughts, beliefs, and life. We are connected. You can choose to be a bystander in my story, an observer, or you can choose to bear witness. You can express what you experience, what you see and hear, in this small connection point in both of our lives. Let’s not wait until a funeral to embrace it.
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Autumn brings cooler temperatures, colorful leaves, and my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. No conjuring of Halloween hocus pocus, no pressure of Christmas presents, just food, family, and friends. I’m thankful for a great many things, and one of the biggest is growth. The fact that we can learn from life and share those lessons with others is one of my favorite things about being human. The connection of one heart and mind to another is one of the most beautiful and profound things in life. I’m grateful for all of you who take the time and energy to read my musings here at One Light Among Many. That I can say things that affect you is a privilege and responsibility I don’t take lightly. I want to do the best I can to give you something that leaves you better than before you stopped by here. I believe I can do a better job of it. To that end, I will be taking a brief hiatus from this blog to focus on two things: family and direction. The Christmas season is about my family, and the New Year is about direction. I’ve been listening, dreaming, learning, preparing, and have some exciting things planned for my return. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your presence in my life here, and I look forward to seeing you early in 2018. Blessings to you all, Debbie Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
Once there was a tree…and she loved a little boy. This book has been in my life for literally decades. Always the context has been that this is what unconditional love and self-sacrifice look like. I’m not sure exactly what triggered the realization that it’s a far cry from a healthy relationship, but a quick Google search confirms I’m not the only one who thinks so. A quick synopsis: Tree and boy love each other. Tree gives herself (literally) throughout his life until she has nothing left. Boy takes from tree with nary a thank you much less a thought to tree’s well-being. See what I mean? Unhealthy at the very least. Abusive is closer to what I’m thinking. We’ve been fed this distorted view of love all this time. Yes, Love is unconditional and self-sacrificing, but it’s about far more than making someone happy, especially at the expense of your own health and well-being. It’s helping someone become all they are capable of being, knowing that when they are learning and growing in that way, happiness is a natural byproduct. And so I wondered…if The Giving Tree portrayed a healthier and more complete picture of unconditional love and self-sacrifice, what would the story be? SUMMARY TO THIS POINT: Boy and Tree love each other, but Boy wants more out of life. Tree offers her apples to sell. Boy does so, returning years later. ---------- “Hello, Boy! I am so happy to see you! Did selling my apples bring you money and happiness?” The boy stood, hands in his pockets. “It did for a while,” he admitted. “I sold the apples and bought things, and I was happy for a while, but it hasn’t lasted. I want more.” The tree wanted the boy to be happy. She knew that with his kindness, courage, perseverance, and love for nature, he could do great things, which would make him happier than more things. “Happiness comes from being who you are. When you are the most you, you are the most happy. When in your life have you been the happiest?” asked the tree. The boy thought for a long time. “Here with you, when I would climb and play and eat your apples.” The tree and the boy thought and thought until the boy’s legs and back became tired. He lay down in her shade, and fell asleep. He had a dream. He hadn’t had a good dreamy dream in a very long time. When he woke, he knew what he needed to do. The boy and the tree made a plan. The boy planted some of the tree’s seeds nearby. He fed and watered them until they became saplings. Then the boy went to the schools and talked about his friendship with the tree. He invited some of the children to help take care of the saplings. The children smiled and caught his dream. It became theirs as well. The boy and the children took care of the saplings, and finally they were large and strong. The children climbed their trunks and swung from their branches and ate apples and slept in their shade. And the tree was happy. The boy was happy. The trees and the children were happy. ---------- Love adds instead of subtracts, multiplies rather than divides. It builds. It shares. It wants what is best for all those it loves. And this truer definition of love means trees don’t become stumps and boys don’t grow into lonely old men. Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
She hadn’t eaten in days. Not that it mattered because she couldn’t keep anything down anyway. She had known she was getting worse for quite a while but kept hoping it would go away. If she just tried harder, stayed clean, but the disease kept growing. Her friends had been watching her spiral further and further down. In fact, they knew she was sick before she did. If they had still been around, she would have called them, but as soon as they saw the signs of her slipping away, they quietly turned and walked away. She needed to get to the hospital, but she was too weak to get herself there. She knew it might even be too late. Maybe they had been afraid she was contagious, at least that wouldn’t have cut so deeply. But she knew they were more afraid for their own reputations. If they continued to associate with her they would be labeled, judged, and left alone to die as she had been. They chose their “social security” over her soul. They would hear of her demise, for sure. They would drop their eyes and shake their heads, sad that it had come to this for her, but secretly they would be relieved that they didn’t catch it and were safe…for now. ----- When someone sneezes we instinctively back up. Who knows what they might have? We don’t want to catch it and risk spreading it. When someone’s illness is the result of their poor choices, especially when stigma is attached, we raise the threat level. We not only back up, we back away. We notice the warning signs. Maybe we say something to them but probably we don’t. We move back for different reasons, but for all of us, as far as we can without causing undue attention. We don’t want that nasty virus of adultery, addiction, deception. Bad reputations can be contagious. So we let our friends slip on to their own destruction. But that’s precisely when they need us to press in. No matter how inconvenient, unpleasant, or reputation-damaging it is, that’s what Love does. Let’s clarify. We don’t enable or co-depend. We do gather up, carrying the sick and dying to the hospital. We bring the wounded hearts, minds, and souls out of darkness and into Light. Sometimes we need to help clean the wound. Sometimes our prayers and presence are all it takes to motivate. But more often we are called to sit in the filth with our friends and let society’s insults and innuendos fly by. It’s not too late to make the next right decision. ----- A warmth began to fill one of her distant friends, one that slowly, lovingly, overpowered the fear. It wasn’t too late, but it was very close. Her doorway had been dark and empty the past thousand times she’d looked through it. Then it slowly cracked open, and warmth, light, and an unsure smile filled the space. As her friend gathered her up she gave a weak smile. She was going to make it after all. #loveinaction #bethelove #bethelight #makethenextrightdecision Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
In grade school I had some good friendships, although none of my friends seemed to like each other. I tended to do things one on one with each of them. I always thought having a group of friends would be fun, it just didn’t happen. Then came high school. Most of my grade school friends went to a different high school, so I was starting over. On the first day of classes a few of us girls had problems with our schedules. We sat together while the administrators worked it out and got to talking. We became friends. A few others joined us and suddenly I belonged to a group. It was fantastic, just as I thought it would be. But about a year later, the unofficial leader of the group decided I got on her nerves. The rest of the group decided the same thing. Nearly instantly I was out. Sadness followed shock as my world collapsed. Here I was, starting over again. But honestly, it turned out to be a terrific thing. Long story short I was able to reacquaint myself with some of my grade school friends (plus a dear few others) and they are still in my life today. It’s because of them that I discovered my love of theatre and desire to work backstage, which changed my life completely. I forgave those who tossed me out, even to the point of wishing them well in their lives. I learned that if I held on to that pain it would interfere with my peace, love, and life, and I had no intention of allowing anyone that kind of control over me. Forgiveness freed me from the pain of their betrayal. I moved on and have continued to form good friendships throughout adulthood. But some wounds aren’t healed by forgiveness alone. Decades later I spent the day shopping with a new friend, one of those amazing people you don’t stop talking to from the moment you get together until the moment you HAVE to go. Somewhere in the conversation that day I absentmindedly said that I was better taken in small doses, good for a while but not too much all at once. We parted ways and I didn’t think anything more about it. A few days later she called me. She was bothered by my comment. She said she didn’t know why I thought that, but she disagreed. That sent me into soul searcher mode. Where HAD I gotten that idea? I realized it was from the group’s betrayal. But while forgiveness healed the pain, it couldn’t heal the scar. When they had said I got on their nerves, I believed them. I hadn’t questioned, I simply internalized. And I extrapolated that since I got on their nerves, I probably got on everyone’s nerves. But that’s a lie. Now hear me out, I KNOW I can get on peoples’ nerves. My husband and sons can testify to that. EVERYONE gets on peoples’ nerves at some point or other. But does that mean I get on EVERYONE’S nerves? Absolutely not. I began to see that believing this lie damaged my other friendships. If I sensed friends were losing interest I would pull away in self-protection. I saw that rather than pulling away from a potential problem, I could press in and communicate. If there was a problem we could try to work it out. If not, so much the better. My friend loved me enough to address the lie and speak the truth, which brought healing to the old scar. They say the truth hurts, and they are right. But the truth also heals. Makes me wonder what other lies I have believed. What lies have you believed? #bethelove #forgivenessandtruth #loverejoiceswiththetruth #truthheals Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
Off the Cliff The ground gave way underneath her and the phone fell from her hand. Caroline couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He’d lost his job?! The company simply closed its doors with no warning?! She had been out of work long enough that everything was already stretched to the limit. Outstanding medical bills and repairs to their beater of a car, and they had already driven every cent out of their bank account. They were so behind on the mortgage…this just could not be happening. Love Has a Rope Her doorbell rang. Stacy didn’t wait for a response but walked on in. “I just heard,” Stacy said. “I’m so sorry, Caroline. This is unreal.” She sat down on the floor beside Caroline and held her. “I’m here, and I’m with you through all of this. You are not alone.” Love Throws a Rope Stacy had lost everything through a divorce some years ago. She vividly remembered the day she packed her two kids, and everything she could, into her car and headed to the women’s shelter. She, herself, wasn’t in the clear yet but was definitely back on solid ground. She knew the potential uphill climb Caroline and her husband were facing and vowed she would be there in any way she was able. Stacy hadn’t known Caroline back then. Others had buoyed her, encouraging her and providing what she could not for her kids. “I don’t have any financial answers, but I do have life experience and hope. I can help navigate some of the rockier parts of this mountain. I don’t have much to offer, but what I do have is yours,” she said. Love IS the Rope Caroline pulled back from Stacy’s embrace. A strange peace seeped into her heart. “I don’t know how that helps so much, but it does,” Caroline said. Stacy stayed with her that night until her husband made it home. She put a few frozen pizzas in their freezer for when they needed them. She helped make phone calls to creditors. She looked for what was needed and provided what she could. Stacy rallied others just as others had done for her. Accepting the charity of friends and strangers was unfamiliar to Caroline. She was always the one to put money in the offering plate, not the one who needed to take it out. But she recognized that when you are falling, and someone offers, you only have to stretch out your hand and grab the rope. Love always protects, always trust, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13:7 #bethelove #betherope #loveinaction Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe
I needed a new attitude with this person really badly. I didn’t know if it was them, me, hormones, or the heat wave. I did know that if my heart continued down the road it was on, it would be devastating to our friendship.
I did something I don’t make a huge practice of but has worked for me some in the past. I prayed for guidance, took a deep breath, and opened my Bible at random. Oh dear. Seriously? First Corinthians 13. AKA The Love Chapter. *facepalm* *sigh* Yes, yes, Love above all. Love is patient and kind; not envious, not boastful, not proud, not rude, not self-seeking, not easily angered; keeps no record of wrongs; doesn’t delight in evil; always protects, trusts, hopes, perseveres; and never fails. The greatest thing is love. I got it. *sigh* My friend is patient with me, and kind…not rude or self-seeking….does keep a record of wrongs but doesn’t delight in evil. My friend does protect, sometimes trusts, maybe hopes, maybe perseveres a little. “How about you?” Me? I’m awesome at loving this person! I’m patient and kind…most of the time. Okay, maybe I’ve slacked off in that a little. I’m not envious, boastful or proud, except, maybe, when I’m right. I’m not rude. Well, there was that one time. But other than that… I’m not sure I like where this is going. “You do still love that person. You’ve just forgotten how. Their love for you is as imperfect as yours is for them. Love that they try. Notice the little things. You are called to be a messenger of My Love. You need to know how to do it and do it well. It will make all the difference. Go and ponder My Love today and I will handle everything else.” Okay. Love my friend as well as I can and always try to love better. Hmmm. I wonder what the chances are that they’ve read First Corinthians 13 lately… Never mind. Emma & Ellie were nestled in the coffee house booth when Emma’s friend, Kat, walked in. “Hey, what are you up to?” Emma asked. “Just grabbing a latte after the protest,” Kat replied. Ellie furrowed her eyebrows a bit and said, “The political protest on the square?” “Yep,” Kat answered. “We’ve got to care for and support this part of society.” “Helping people is the way to go,” Emma said, then noticed something on Kat’s arm. “New tat?” Kat smiled and showed off the skull with a knife through the eye socket on her lower arm. “It is! What do you think? I like it but my parents say it’s a little gruesome.” Ellie raised one eyebrow, silently agreeing with Kat’s parents. Emma chuckled and shook her head. “It’s definitely you, and you know I love you.” Kat chuckled and leaned over to Ellie. “I’m trying to talk her into getting one, something harmless like a bunny.” She winked at Emma and checked the time on her phone. “Okay, gotta run. I’ll see you next week. Love you, too, and it was good to meet you, Ellie.” “Same here,” Ellie replied, trying to not sound sarcastic. Kat walked to the counter to order. Ellie leaned forward in the booth. “Who was that?” “She’s my old roommate’s sister,” Emma replied. “We always got along better than the roommate and I did. She’s fun and interesting.” Ellie shook her head. “But you guys are complete opposites from each other in politics, lifestyle, and religion.” “Yeah, but those are details.” Ellie sat back in her seat. “Pretty big details. Do you just avoid talking about those subjects?” “No, we talk about them, but Kat isn’t just her politics or spiritual views. She is my friend and I love her for ALL the things she is. To focus on the one or two I’m not as comfortable with denies me the privilege of knowing her as a whole person.” Ellie’s eyes widened. “Doesn’t it infuriate you when she gets heated up about her politics?” “I don’t focus on how her politics differ from mine. If I did, I probably would get mad, but it wouldn’t be worth it to lose an awesome friend. We go deeper than the details. Yes, she is passionate about her politics, but that’s head stuff. I focus on her heart, no matter what direction her passion takes.” “What do you have in common if not the details?" “We didn’t think we had much in common at first, but the more we got to know each other, the more we realized we share hopes, dreams, fears, wounds. It turns out we have a lot more in common than not. That is what bonds us.” Ellie pondered this. “I guess, with you and me, we share many of the same details but also quite a few of the deeper things as well.” Emma smiled. “Absolutely. And I love you both.” #bethelove #deeperthanthedetails --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please subscribe. In my early adulthood, my best friend moved away. This was long before the advent of social media--no Instagram, Snapchat, or Facebook. Neither of us were phone people. We had busy lives, and we lost touch.
I’ve really never had anyone to replace her. A few years after that, I had several similar friendship losses, seemingly one on top of the other. Those only served to remind of and reinforce the pain. Sometimes it’s just the way life works. Some people, perhaps most people, are only meant to be in your life for a season. Unfortunately, knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. My heart was just beginning to process and recover when, miraculously, my best friend was back, only this time, we knew it wouldn’t be for very long. Part of me was thrilled! We had always picked up where we left off. After all, SHE was my BEST FRIEND. But the larger part of me was cautious. I knew it was temporary. I knew she would leave again. We could have had lunches and squeezed in some time here and there, but…I chose not to engage. I couldn’t bear the thought of getting close only to relive the agony. By the time I decided it was worth the risk and was brave enough to try again, she was gone, just like that. I had missed my opportunity. Fear had felt truer than Love, so I listened to it. I trusted my past more than our potential future. Worst of all, I listened to my wounded heart without even considering my friend’s. I felt stupid. Sad. Cowardly. I was furious at myself. I’ve heard the phrase “choose your hard.” Either choice you make is going to be hard. It’s hard to get the degree. It’s also hard to not be able to provide for your family. It’s hard to resist temptation. It’s also hard to face the consequences. Which hard is easier, or better, for you? In this situation, it wasn’t choose my hard as much as choose my heartache. It was the difference between digging my chest out with a dull knife or a sharp spoon. I could have chosen to build on our love and friendship, even knowing she would be gone again. Instead, I chose the heartache of regret by trying to protect myself. I never took the time to see past my own pain and into her heart. It never occurred to me that it was hard for her to leave, and hard to come back. She had enjoyed our years together, too. I can only imagine that my lack of engagement made her feel rejected, abandoned, unloved. And now I have another hard choice. I can continue to let a wonderful friendship slip away, or I can connect and apologize and try to rebuild. You know, reading that now, it’s not such a hard choice after all. Hard choices lead to hard-aches, but I will risk that over listening to my hard head again. #bethelove #chooseyourheartache #loveanyway ____________________________________________________________________ Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please subscribe. |
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