 Photo Credit: Congerdesign via Pixabay My gut was telling me but my head wasn’t quite sure. Finally something they said flipped the switch, and I knew what I had to do. I unfriended, blocked, and under my breath wished them well in the sham of a life they were living, bless their hearts.
I’m getting better at recognizing false friends, also known as manipulators, users, those with ulterior motives. It hurts when someone you believed was your friend really wasn’t. And of course it drags up memories of other friendships that have been lost or didn’t work out, for whatever reason. I’m not too bad about setting boundaries while in a friendship, it’s afterward that I need to work on--the rehashing, the what ifs, the wondering what I did wrong, the whole nine. A large part of my purpose is to love the people God puts in front of me. Sometimes He isn’t the one who brings them, but I don’t usually know that until later. And while the wounds begin to heal into scars I remind myself of two things:
I remember hearing about a woman who had been left blind after an attack. Later she was asked if she resented the person who did this to her. “No,” she said. “He had one night of my life. He will never have another minute.” I have decided that bad things, dicey situations, and awful people will come into my life, but the effects of their behavior will be momentary at best. No one gets to control my mind, heart, and future but God and me. It’s not always easy to do, but I have a little thing that helps. It’s called forgiveness. It frees me from their control. Forgiveness is not saying that what they did is okay or that it didn’t hurt. It’s not a wall I put up to block future pain, or a force field that deflects it. It’s more of a sponge. Forgiveness absorbs the pain, the betrayal, the questions. Then I take it to God and ask Him to rinse it with His love. And when the pain is rinsed away and wrung out--sometimes quickly, sometimes over time--it makes room for healing, and freedom. Which makes for a whole lot better future than continuing to “bless their hearts” under my breath. #bethelove #forgiveness #fakefriends ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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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 Photo credit: Richard Revel via pexels.com I need to warn you, we use a lot of ’blue language’ on set.”
I shrugged. “I won’t judge you for using it if you won’t judge me for not.” The director smiled. Thus was the acknowledgment of mutual respect and freedom that launched me into the world of independent film. For my Christian friends, I feel I must clarify, this was a “secular” independent film. There are Christian films being made in the area, that’s just not the plot God dropped me in. It’s been a fun, life-giving, mind-expanding few years, and I’ve loved every minute. It’s put me in touch with a wide variety of fun, interesting, intelligent, passionate, hard-working, gifted people…the majority of which do not share my faith. It’s a fine line to walk and one that, sadly, I’ve had far too little practice in and haven’t always done well. My guiding principle has been that I’m here to love the people God puts in front of me, and let God do the rest. Have I loved these new friends well? Could I love better? And most importantly, are they seeing Jesus in me or just seeing me? Which got me to wondering, if Jesus worked on a small, independent film, how would He love people? What would He do? And what would He not do? Here’s my storyboard: He would arrive early. He would do what he was asked to do, without complaining or arguing or even so much as an eye-roll. He would smile and laugh. A lot. And they wouldn’t be patronizing smirks, but would reach clear into his eyes. He would be sure everyone else got lunch before he did. He might even bring lunch to a few who couldn’t get a break to eat. He would go out of his way to help anyone who needed it, even looking for ways to help. He would make a meaningful connection, however brief, with each person he came across. Most would then want to have him over for a fish fry (he might even bring two fish or some bread…). He would answer any religious questions he was asked in a gentle, honest way. He would not spark religious debate by turning every conversation into a religious one out of nowhere. He would not cower, but when yelled at, ignored, dismissed, even abused, he would continue to work hard, forgive, and move on. And I’m pretty sure “blue language” wouldn’t bother him one little bit. #loveinaction #heisnotwhatyouthink #bethelove --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please subscribe.  Scurrred, by ColKorn1982, Wikimedia Commons Years ago, my mother-in-law was at the homecoming parade when she heard a very faint mewing. She looked around and saw a tiny orange and white striped kitten. It was scrawny and dirty, with half of its whiskers singed off and eyes that were clouded and messy. Being a great lover of animals, especially cats, she adopted this one, took her to the vet then home for food, a warm bed and toys. She wound up simply calling her Little Cat.
Once she was healed and growing, Little Cat discovered she liked to climb up jeans and scamper about. She provided snuggles, laughter, and the occasional scratch or two. While it helped that Little Cat was stinking cute, it wasn’t her cuteness that determined her worth in my mother-in-law’s eyes (although it certainly didn’t hurt). Little Cat was worthy of love, healing, and life simply because she was a living creature. I know that not everyone is Animal People, but there is no reason we can’t all be People People. Yes, people can be messy, mean, malcontents. We can be insecure, inept, insufficient, and inefficient. We can be rough and rude, thoughtless, heartless, soulless. Broken and wounded, lashing out beyond reason or imagination. But even with our myriad of flaws, faults, and failures, we are still…human. In our very most basic state we are worthy of love. Of purpose. Of dignity and respect. Of a chance, a second chance, a millionth chance. Some would have us believe we are nothing more than matter and energy, cells and chemicals, and therefore worth very little. I disagree. We reason and learn. We love. We breathe. We ARE. And that’s enough. So remember, the next person you see on the street, that you don’t necessarily have to give them a home, but a little love and respect can go a long way—singed whiskers and all. #bethelove #goodsamaritan ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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. |
Applying nature's principles and systems to personal and cultural development.About CommentsI love to read comments and know how my work is helping you. Please respond with your first AND last names. Anonymous comments will not be read and may be deleted.
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