The Things I Won't Let Anyone Steal

"Star Trek V: The Final Frontier" is arguably the worst Star Trek film ever. But what can you expect when William Shatner writes, directs, and portrays a character who boldly goes on a mission to defeat "God"? It really is sad, especially after the epic brilliance of "Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home," in which Leonard Nimoy writes, directs, and portrays a character who knocks out a rude punk bus passenger, masters the use of colorful metaphors, saves the whales AND humanity, and also looks pretty smashing walking the mid-1980s San Francisco streets in a bathrobe. But I digress....

"Star Trek V" was a stinker, but there's a scene in it that I kind of like. In case you haven't seen the flick (you're not missing much), here's some background:

Sybok, Spock's long, lost half-brother has hijacked the Enterprise. He's a Vulcan, but has renounced the logical ways of his people and embraced emotion. His big thing is "sharing pain." He does some kind of psychic Vulcan mind trick to make people relive their most painful experiences, and he pretty much brainwashes people into following his "pain sharing" cult. And then they all go frolic off into the unknown to meet God...but not really. It's actually some kind of alien thing that was using Sybok. Or something. I think.

Honestly, I don't really have a clue what was going on in that movie. And I don't know if Shatner did either. I think Shatner just wanted to beat God. Because he's the Shatner.

But, yeah, Shatner did have a pretty good line in the movie. Sybok had gotten to Bones and Spock, making them "share their pain." But when it was Shatner's...uh...Captain Kirk's turn, he said something deep and brilliant. Because the Shatner wanted him to:

(remember to say it in a Shatner voice)

"You know that pain and guilt can't be taken away with a wave of a magic wand. They're the things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are. If we lose them, we lose ourselves. I don't want my pain taken away! I need my pain!"

Now, I have never met an emotional Vulcan brainwasher with delusions of finding God on a distant planet, but I've met a lot of people who remind me of Sybok. Like Sybok, they think they're doing good things. They think they're helping. But, in an unusual sense of the phrase, they are "identity thieves."

These are good people (as good as any of us can be) with good intentions. They aren't hacking passwords or stealing credit card numbers or illegally obtaining social security numbers.

They are just guilty of getting all up in people's KoolAid without even knowing the flavor.

And I really think these kinds of "identity thieves" are well-intentioned. They meddle because they genuinely care. And that should be acknowledged and even appreciated, but it can't be an excuse for someone to "fix" a friend or his/her problems.

I'm not talking about burden-bearing. Scripture is clear that we are to care about one another and take care of one another. But it's one thing to come alongside someone, listen, and pray, and it's another thing to try to make another person's problems disappear. Especially when one doesn't really know all the details.

And, to make this personal, I've had a lot of people try to fix me without really ever listening to me. So they don't really even know or understand what it is they're trying to fix. And if they did, they would probably realize that it can't be fixed, and doesn't really need to be fixed even if it could be.

I'm an anxious, awkward person. No really. I mean, hello! I started this blog post a with a Star Trek reference. I'm awkward, okay.

Back in middle school, high school, even early college, I would have agreed with anyone who said that I needed to change. I would have agreed that my anxiety in social/unfamiliar situations was the result of me letting fear overcome my faith, of sin. I know I would have agreed with anyone who said that, because I DID agree with people who said that.

But as I've gotten older and slightly more comfortable in my skin, I've come to the pretty clear conclusion that I will NEVER stop being awkward. I'll ALWAYS be uncomfortable, and even to some degree, suppressed in unfamiliar situations.

It's not sinfulness to be socially awkward. And while it's not always desirable, it's part of who I am. It's something about me that is unique and even beautiful. Sometimes it makes life harder, but life isn't supposed to be easy. And if someone tries to tell me, usually in a misguided attempt at encouragement, that I'm not awkward, I will fiercely defend my awkwardness. I won't let people try to steal that.

And I know that seems odd to some people, but I learned a long time ago that I am not a strong person. I don't buy into the "believe in yourself" junk that after school specials tried to feed me for most of my childhood. It sounds so good, and maybe if I wasn't so awkward, I might have less trouble believing it.

But God has made me, and I believe God wants me to be awkward. I believe God wants me to be weak. I believe God wants me to believe in Him and not in myself. I believe God has purposes for my anxiety, for my social awkwardness, and I won't let anyone try to steal those things away from me.

And another thing I won't let people steal is my pain. I'll admit, compared to a lot of people, my life's pain is pretty minimal. But to make a long story short and to not go into details that involve others who might not want their story shared, just know that I got my heart broken. It was a little over 8 years ago. And it involved a lot of other painful details that pretty much make it the saddest part of my life.

But the thing is, it was also the most beautiful part my life.

And I don't share that story much because, well it was a long time ago. People never did like to hear me moan on and on about it. Plus, I've healed enough to where I don't need to talk about it much.

But a few years ago, when the wound was fresher, I did need to talk about it. But there were precious few who would listen, really, really listen.

Most of what I got from people was about a minute of half-hearted listening followed by a five minute sermon about why I should move on and how I deserved "God's best" and about how sinful it was to look in the past and rob myself of future joy.

People, for the most part, wanted to fix me instead of really listening to me. And let me tell you, that is one if the most frustrating things in the world. And it hurts me to see it happen to other people, to see well-meaning "identity thieves" trying to "pain share" without really investing anything more than their uninformed, misguided opinion.

Because sometimes "God's best" doesn't look like what we think it should look like. And sometimes God allows or hearts to be broken because that's part of who He wants us to be. And if anyone, however well-meaning, tries to steal away my heartbroken, rejected identity, I will fiercely defend it.

And that might be hard for some to understand. And quite frankly, I don't care whether people understand or not. Understanding isn't as important as respect.

If I, or someone else, was doing something destructive or not following God, then yes, by all means there should be some intervention. That's not meddling; that's biblical brotherly love.

But here's the thing. The pain I have from being rejected is part of who I am, but it doesn't keep me from reaching out and risking to love others. My anxiety and awkwardness don't keep me from stepping out in faith and trying new things. Nothing that the world deems negative is anything that holds me back.

Fear and faith are going to be a constant struggle. They just are. The pain of rejection is always going to haunt me, threatening to make me shy away from reaching it to others. It just is.

But my weaknesses are not as the world sees them, and maybe other people's weaknesses aren't as you see them.

And what's more is that there is mercy in the struggle.

I serve the God who uses the weak to shame the strong, the foolish to shame the wise, and those that aren't to shame the things that are. 

It's actually a good thing that I am weak, and I WILL boast I'm my weaknesses. For when I am weak, He is strong.

And no one can steal that away.

Filtered Through Grace

You may remember the birthday par-tay I wrote about in my last post.  I needed that particular birthday par-tay to be over in time for me to be out the door at 4:15 so I could make it to my church choir practice at 4:30.  I discussed this with Miss Stefanie before agreeing to take the birthday par-tay gig.  She assured me they knew they were supposed to be completely done at 4:15, and that I would be able to leave on time. 

The birthday party (sorry, I couldn't pull of the par-tay thing anymore) didn't end until 4:25.  I practically pushed the family out the door at 4:30. 

And I was ticked off.  Not at Miss Stefanie, but at the situation.  And I'm making a public apology to Miss Stefanie right now, because while I didn't blame her for the incident, I did send her a not-nice text right after the party assuring her that I would NOT be doing any more birthday parties.  Basically, I was a jerk.

Sorry, Miss Stefanie.  You rock.  ...and I'm still not doing anymore birthday parties, but this time I'm not saying it in my "angry voice." 

But Sunday afternoon, as I was driving, already late for choir practice, I remember seething about the whole situation.  "I'm late!" I told myself.  "The people having the party made me late!  I agreed to be somewhere else right now, and I had to break a commitment!"  Really, it wasn't that big of a deal at all that I showed up 15 minutes late to choir practice, but I felt I had to be justifiably angry about something.  So I picked the whole "breaking a commitment thing" because it sounded nice and righteous.  Never you mind that I'm often about 5 minutes late just because I have trouble leaving my apartment on time....

Then yesterday, I really wanted to go running.  My foot was hurting over the weekend, and so I had decided to rest it until last night.  Then last night I was going to start training for my 10K (which is a month from today--yikes!).  It was all gonna work out.  I wasn't supposed to work last night--I was just "on call" because the mom I work for was "on call."  And she hardly ever gets called in.  But she did.  So I did, too.

And the dad was supposed to be home in time for me to meet with my running group, but then he wasn't.  That wasn't his fault and I didn't blame him.  It was just that by the time I got off it was too late to meet my running group, and in fact, it was too dark to go run at all.

So I went home with full intentions to get on my elliptical and at least get some exercise.  Instead, I threw myself a minor cranky-pants party and ate a few handfuls of candy corn. 

I was pouting.  I was pouting because things didn't go my way again.  And, once again, it was something good that I wanted to do that another obligation prevented me from doing. 

And after several minutes of being a cranky-pants, I finally started talking to God.  Only I wasn't being very nice about the whole thing.  The gist of my prayer was, "God, the stuff I'm wanting to do is good stuff.  I wanted to run and start training for that 10K, and I need to do it.  You know I need to do it.  Why would You allow that to be prevented from happening?  This is like the other night when I wanted to be on time for choir practice, and You allowed that to be prevented, too.  What's up with that?"

God  responded, "Oh, so you're asking me now?  I was wondering if you were ever going to get around to that.  Yes, I allowed this.  I allowed it because you obviously have something to learn from it."

Ouch.

It's been a slow, sometimes painful lesson, but God is gradually teaching me that every single thing that comes my way is filtered through grace.  I've said that before on here, and I'll probably say it again.  I'm repetitive because that's how I learn.  Through repetition.  As God's repeating these lessons and themes in my life, they're bound to come up again and again in my blogging. 

Everything that comes my way is something God allows.  As hard as it is for me to trust, this is a difficult concept to wrap my brain around.  If everything seems to be going well, God allows that.  If a kid gets snot all over my sweater, while I'm pleading, "Let's not snot Miss Ruth's sweater, please," God allows that.  If my brakes start making squeaky noises that lead me to assume I've got even MORE work that needs to be done on my car, God allows that.  If hectic life situations prevent me from doing something noble that I really want to do, God allows that.  And if God allows it, then God will provide grace to get through it, one way or another. 

Please don't think I'm making light of life.  I know the examples I listed above might seem really trite and unimportant.  Getting snot on my sweater isn't a huge deal.  Needing new brakes on my car is a little bit bigger of a deal.  But I have no idea what my readers are going through.  You might be experiencing a tremendous heartache that doesn't make sense.  You might have lost a loved one.  You might have found out someone you love has cancer.  You might be suffering through another month of unemployment and financial difficulty.  You might be struggling with addictions, with anger, with rejection, with fear.

I don't know what you're going through.  But I know that God is near to the brokenhearted.  And I know that His grace is sufficient.  God may or may not have caused whatever issues you're dealing with.  Sometimes our pain is the result of our own sin; sometimes it's the result of someone else's sin.  Sometimes life just stinks.  Whether or not God has caused our pain and problems, He has allowed these things in our lives.  Sometimes that's to teach us something; sometimes that's just to bring us closer to what we really need in Him.  Honestly, I don't know all the reasons why we have to struggle.

But I firmly believe there is mercy in those struggles.  If He's allowed them, He will provide what we need to get through them.  It might not be what we expect or desire, but provision will be there.

Everything we encounter is filtered through grace.  And lately, the small inconveniences in my life have been opportunities to trust God.  They've also been opportunities to love others.  And sometimes I fail and sometimes I succeed, but God is faithful to keep teaching me in the midst of all of it. 

And I still have no clue where He's leading me, but I know He's changing me.  He's preparing me for something that's probably going to take a little bit of flexibility on my part.  These little tests He's allowing are preparing me for greater challenges that I'm going to face further down the road.  I'm learning.  I'm learning to love others even when they've inconvenienced me or even drastically hurt me.  I'm learning to trust God even when I can't see rhyme or reason for what's going on in my life.  I know I'm not there yet, but right now I'm just overwhelmed that God would love me enough to work on me, to make me more into the person He wants me to be. 

Sweater snot happens.  Flat tires and bum brakes happen.  Heartbreaks happen.  Deaths happen.  Pain and problems and annoyances and outbursts and bills and illnesses and stress and struggles happen. 

There is mercy in the struggle.

Everything is filtered through grace.

Everything is an opportunity to trust God and to love others.

We can't control what other people do to us, but we can choose to love.  We can choose to trust and obey.  It's not easy, but there's grace for that, too.