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The Beautiful Road Less Travelled: Reconciliation and Relational Restoration

I consider myself deeply committed to keeping relationships working. So, when they fail (due to my own shortcomings and/or someone else’s issues), I take it very hard. I’m sure many of us do. I believe that there are very few situations in life that warrant a complete walk-away.

Taking space: Yes! That comes up from time to time and is healthy.

But jumping on an exit ramp out of a relationship at the first disappointment or hurt: No.

Everything in me screams against that. Why? Because redemption and reconciliation do not have to be ruled out. Yes, it takes two. And yes, it takes hard work. And yes, we can’t control the response of the other person. But if it’s important enough to us, we can always leave the door open. We may have boundaries. We may have healthier ways we’d like to try to interact when we re-engage. We may have apologies to exchange or offer, but relationships can heal if both parties are

willing

and

committed.

This has been on my mind as I thank God for relationships in my own life that have healed. Sometimes, people take a lot of space from each other. That can be painful and rejecting, but it is also a chance to pray for God to put things back together. That is what I have done in several situations, and He is so incredibly faithful. In some cases, the wait has been years. Yes, years. Sometimes, it was just months. But it was always worth the wait.

Has every broken relationship in my life healed? No. Will they all heal? I don’t know. That depends on the other people, too, and where their hearts are, but I do know the best thing is asking God to do something beautiful with the wreckage, show me my own wrong, and help me to remain in a posture of humility.

Is there any other posture possible, really, when we want reconciliation?

I don’t think so.

It doesn’t mean being a proverbial doormat and taking all wrong upon ourselves if some of it isn’t ours to take. It just means being ready to be sorry, apologize, open our arms back to the one ready to rejoin us. When we stand in angry stances, we aren’t exactly an open door.

That said, I don’t believe toxic relationships should be re-started unless new boundaries can be agreed upon and followed, so I’m not suggesting every situation is healthy enough to re-enter. There are definitely situations in which we need to let go or keep distance when they are regularly unsafe, emotionally or otherwise.

This has been on my mind a lot because I love watching my kids discover this. When they have had falling-outs with friends, I always tried to remind them that today’s difficult misunderstanding or hurt does not have to mean a forever rift. Sometimes, people grow in different directions and come back to a place where they find value in each other again. They grow from tiny, elementary school kiddos whose biggest disagreement is that Cassidy isn’t sharing nicely anymore, to more upper elementary school grades, when the friendships shift and twist, and alliances are made so frequently and painfully, it’s like watching a reality tv show about social survival. Middle school is its own bomb going off of hormones and insecurities, and then comes high school when they can settle in a bit more. I love when my children come to me and say: “So-and-so and I are hanging out again sometimes” (assuming so-and-so is not some horrible influence). And I love to respond: “That’s so awesome! Aren’t you glad you allowed the space, expanded your friendships, but left the door open? I bet you will find new things that you appreciate about each other in these new ages/grades that you are.”

I don’t have a hang-up about my kids losing some friendships and making new ones along the way. That’s part of life. It’s human sorting, more or less. It’s how we find out what we value in ourselves and others. And that leads to growth.

But I do celebrate when they make a choice to not permanently shut off or out a person they once cared deeply for—when they take the space needed but leave an open door for healing and recovery. Not every relationship will go through that door, but doesn’t it teach us something so beautiful about God’s redemptive work and reconciliation to Himself through Jesus on the cross on our behalf when we see Him take our yielded, open hearts and make what’s messy all sparkly and new? There is so much darkness and lack of hope in this world that one of the most precious things to me is seeing answered prayer through restored relationships. It’s God working in our midst, taking what is broken on each side of the relationship and giving it the wholeness only He can give. He asks us to be reconciled, before it escalates into something big and brutal.

Are there places you desire this? Do you struggle, like I do, on waiting it out, being patient, letting God take it? We can find hope in His promises, today and always, if you trust Him and call Him your own. There is a God who hears and wants to bring not only reconciliation of people to Himself but also with each other. It can require the often difficult choice of humility and a yielded heart, but that’s the road I want to always travel on—because it’s the only one that leads to peace of heart and lived-out grace.

Matthew 5:23-24, Jesus speaking
“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.”

Colossians 1:19-20, Apostle Paul speaking (reference to Jesus Christ)
For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

2 Corinthians 5:17-20, Apostle Paul speaking
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.
We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God.

More on relational healing and restoration can be found in Not Just on Sundays.

*This blog linked up at Grace & Truth, Saturday Soirée Blog Party, Christian Mommy Blogger, and Mom 2 Mom Monday Link-Up.

8 Comments

Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on September 29, 2014 in Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Grace in Big Gulps, The Healing Cloak of Jesus

Tags: 2 Corinthians 5:17-20, broken relationships, Colossians 1:19-20, grace, Matthew 5:23-24, peace, reconciliation, reconciling to Himself, recovering relationships, redemptive work, restoration

When We’re in Pain: Keeping the Circle Small

27 Sep

The blog right before this one talked about opening ourselves up to more feedback in life. This one is more about the times when we need to keep our circle small.

I don’t know about you, but when I’m hurting, my circle of interaction suddenly shrinks to about five people outside my own immediate family. I think we’re all selective on purpose, during these moments, as a self-protection reflex, an instinct. I’m sure shelves of psychology reference books have been written about this very thing.

Part of the reason behind the shrinking circle is because others are often in their own very rough seasons and can’t really take on something else right now to help.

And that’s okay. We’ve all been there.

Another reason is because it can be difficult to be around people who aren’t tuning into our pain on any level. It can be beneficial to just put those relationships on hold until we regroup and come out of the gray clouds over us. They’re still our friends. They just might not know what to do in this particular situation. That’s okay too.

Sometimes our pain touches in too close to someone else’s pain, and they can’t be part of our inner circle for this reason—at least not in this exact moment. Grace, much grace for them. It’s okay to need some space in these situations. Our experiences can be used to help others, certainly, but if we are still in the throes of deep pain ourselves, it might be wise to not advise others until we’ve come out of it.

Then there are other folks who only really want to be around us for what we offer—not for what we need. That’s okay, too, but they are definitely not entering into the inner circle of “safe”—and really, it’s okay, because that’s not necessarily their goal. They don’t want to. Better we realize that up front. It’s all about expectations, and setting them correctly.

Neither should we let in, during these very sensitive times, those likely to remind us of our own failing (or the failing of one of our children) later.

Yup, not allowed in.

While we may find that our support group of prayer or bringing meals in a moment of sickness or sorrow may be larger than we realized, when we are either struggling with our own particular torment, or a loved one in pain or at risk, we tend to not want to share that with the world. We tend to keep it close, at least until the storm has passed.

Although people are well meaning and offer comfort in their own ways, there are also those tougher moments when someone might walk right up to us, see our tears ever on the edge and rigid tension in our face, and talk on and on about themselves in whatever mundane way or demand our audience over something we can’t really handle at the moment. And while they are not wrong—just maybe a little insensitive—it can make us want to run and hide, find the exit ramp and speed madly down it.

These are the things that overwhelm me personally when I’m in that place. One of my worst triggers is not feeling heard or understood. It also throws me into a panic if I think someone is coming to take from me when I am beyond depleted. I’d so much rather not be approached when I am in that place if the pain is going to blown past as if it is a figment of my imagination. That’s assuming, of course, the person is aware. Obviously, they are not accountable for what they do not know.

Sometimes, “I’m hurting right now. Can I get back to you a bit later?” needs to be enough of a #response. #healthyboundaries

— Bonnie Lyn Smith (@BonnieLynSmith) October 19, 2015

And it needs to be accepted.

We recently closed our shutters during a nine-month struggle getting one of the birds in our nest from mental unwellness to a better place of mental wholeness—or something approaching it. I walked around during those nine months tensing up so incredibly afraid of encountering people who wouldn’t “get it” because they hadn’t experienced anything like it yet (thank God!), wouldn’t offer grace, would probe unkindly, or would still want to take something from me in my weakness. My shoulders are still coming out of that tense posture, even now, months after the crisis. And I did run into those kinds of people. Definitely. And I had to draw my boundaries. But I found more grace along the path to soothe my wearied, battered soul—dear, trusted folks who loved me back to safety.

And really, it’s healthy to keep the circle smaller in those moments. Not only is our private stuff, well, private, but I find God calls a few people to help carry us in these times—not the masses. The masses often bring tangible provision, like meals during moments of sickness or for welcoming a new baby, but few will walk through each burden with us in our heaviest times. And that’s okay.

And it may be different people each time. Sometimes it’s a family member or a different friend than the last situation. I love how God uses the people who are going to be able to give us what we need emotionally and offer good counsel at that moment in that particular struggle.

I don’t think we’re all meant to carry around all burdens at once. It would be too weighty. Only Christ could do that on the cross.

I need to also be okay with the idea that I am not always someone else’s answer or “circle person” as they walk through something difficult. I love it when I can be used in this way, but I certainly cannot meet every deep need out there. None of us can. That’s why listening for His guidance and leading is so important. It can overwhelm otherwise.

#Proverbs18_24 One who has unreliable #friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks #closerthanabrother.

— Bonnie Lyn Smith (@BonnieLynSmith) October 19, 2015

What do you think? Do you find this to be true?

More of our faith walk through personal struggles can be found in Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day.

*This blog has also been shared at any link highlighted here: Mom 2 Mom Monday Link-Up, Make a Difference Mondays, Pick Your Pin Tuesday, Women With Intention Wednesdays, Grace & Truth, A Little R & R, RaRa Link-Up, Me, Coffee & Jesus, Dance With Jesus, Blessing Counters, Coffee & Conversation, Saturday Soiree, Tell His Story, Find Stability, So Much at Home, Faith-Filled Fridays, Reflect His Love and Glory Link-Up, Bonbon ‘n Coffee Linkup, and Christian Mommy Blogger.

3 Comments

Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on September 27, 2014 in Anxiety/OCD/Depression, Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Grace in Big Gulps

Tags: boundaries, boundary, circle of trust, crisis friends, expectations, grace, inner circle, inner circle of trust, keeping the circle small, mental health, mental wellness, pain, proverbs 18:24, support group

Grace That Changes: One Forgiving Moment at a Time [Excerpt]

13 Sep

Today, Espressos of Faith offers an excerpt from the upcoming Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day, due out this month.

Cover design: Traci Carmichael Art

—————————————

I performed an interesting social experiment in the past year at a favorite establishment in my town. Folks working there weren’t very friendly, to the point I dreaded going in. So, I tried being very kind every time I went, going out of my way to clean up any mess we left, saying something encouraging at the counter, and in general bringing in a consistent smile, no matter what attitude came back at me. I went in more regularly with my kids, having them do homework and lingering, looking for opportunities to bless. It took a few months, but then suddenly, the staff not only knew me by name, but they started going out of their way to also be kind: They brought my kids free food, helped me more with questions I had, and apologized for mistakes even when I didn’t complain. Although I’m sure I’m not the reason the entire establishment is friendlier, I was able to show my kids that kindness begets more kindness. Even they have noticed a difference.

So, I keep thinking how deliberate the choice is to love and bless. It doesn’t always flow naturally; it is a minute-by-minute choice, but if we employed this same idea everywhere—the car that cuts in front of us for a parking space, the tired clerk at the market counter, the pharmacy technician who doesn’t need one more prescription coming in when she’s already so behind—how many people could we each reach with love and grace? Too much in this world tears us down. What if that pharmacy clerk was going to go home and drink herself into a stupor again tonight because of problems weighing on her unbeknownst to me? What if the impatient car parker is also impatient at home with his kids, snapping at the least little annoyance? Do we need to cause him more angst, or could grace perhaps make a small dent, leading to bigger dents, in the way he daily functions? Could our choice to extend grace turn around a despairing, tense, hopeless attitude? All I know is grace changed who I am, and the people who offered me grace in my own bad attitudes deserve so much credit; they overlooked the ugly in me and encouraged the beautiful. Grace changes things, one forgiving moment at a time. My mouth can’t hold poison and antidote all at the same time. James, brother of Jesus, said it best:

James 3:9-12

With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.

And here is a fun one for you. I thought it was amazingly descriptive to wear cursing as one’s garment and have it enter one’s body like water and bones like oil. Hello, songwriter! Modifiers and analogies make my heart jump!

Psalm 109:17-18, David (not yet king) speaking

He loved to pronounce a curse—
may it come on him.
He found no pleasure in blessing—
may it be far from him.

He wore cursing as his garment;
it entered into his body like water,
into his bones like oil.

Summertime presents some nice opportunities for learning how to relate better to one another. I bet if you’re a parent of kids still at home, it does in your house too. One of the rules of my house is: “If you come to any of us with accusations, anger, or emotional response of any kind, you may not walk away when you are in the middle of receiving a response. If you are not prepared to hear out a response to a problem/accusation you put forth, you should not present it in the first place.” I told my children that I know adults who do this to me all of the time. They drop their emotion down but run off and sulk without sticking around to hear another perspective. Any issue or relationship worth working out deserves to have both people heard. We better ourselves with stronger, committed relationships if we learn to develop this one important concept. I see this as part of the blessing/curse idea. Working through misunderstandings or upsets needs to be approached from a stance of blessing. Blessing invites openness and vulnerability. Cursing shuts relationships down. I don’t want cursing to enter my body like water or my bones like oil as the Psalmist depicts for us, which suggests to me a “soaking in.” Toxic interactions have a way of soaking in and permeating so many areas of our lives. Grace and love do just the opposite; they cover us:

1 Peter 4:8, Apostle Peter speaking

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

Along the same lines, I had a difficult “issue of character” discussion with one child at bedtime one night. It wasn’t a huge deal, really, and it was only one area of correction, but this child struggles to receive constructive criticism no matter how delicately it is presented. I waited to make sure it sank in and shared that we all have to be able to take feedback and ask God if it’s something He wants us to correct. Then, because this child bruises easily from feedback, I spent the falling-asleep moments listing all of the things this child does well, areas where I am very pleased, and at Item Number 20, the slight smile gave way to slumber, and peace climbed beside us and laid its head on the pillow as well, a welcome companion. That is not how I conduct myself every day, but when I consult God and come from a standpoint of blessing, informed by His living Word, it is a much more peaceful way to do life.

Just as mourning comes in waves, so does His grace. It rides in on constant tides like a covering of love that soaks into every pore until it fills the heart. There is never grief without grace, if we’d only learn to keep our feet in the Living Water, facing the oncoming surf, not fearing the raging storms, but instead standing steadfast to receive as He gives. If only we stood there in great faith and expectancy, we’d quickly find He never ever stops giving. We’re the ones who lose hope or courage and walk away from the source. His waves of grace chase us and lap at our feet, desiring to heal, to nurture, and to be received, but if our backs are to those waves as we walk away, we never even know what was there for us, what we failed to discover as we walk back inland to where discouragement and fear are ready to take hold and plant roots—only because we gave those dark thoughts permission again. I don’t want to give them permission anymore. I want to sit in tide pools of never-ending grace at the feet of Jesus. If you trust Him, you can sit there too!

Freeze, or Burn?

21 Aug

So, the other day I finally got fed up with a painful growth at the tip of my middle finger, that, because of it being my tallest finger, ended up bumping into everything with force, no matter how cautious I was about it. I was sure it wasn’t a wart. I didn’t think there had been a splinter or sliver of glass in there, but I also knew it had been there for two months with no improvement, but also no infection. I figured they’d send me to the dermatologist to get it sliced off and studied like so many other parts of me that lived near the equator for a few years. But I was wrong.

I went in early in the AM and had to quell my own laughter about my middle finger going up all of the time to protect it from getting knocked by accident. The PA who helped me was not amused, but I find I have to laugh in moments like these. Maybe it’s a nervous habit, like when the dermatologist is cutting something from somewhere normally clothed for a reason. I have to crack jokes or else I cry from the lack of dignity of the moment, and sadly, there are way too many of these moments. I am a dermatologist’s bread and butter! And I find dermatologists to categorically be a humorless bunch (if you’re a derm peep, I’m probably not talking about you). Maybe I provide some comic relief from staring at skin lesions all day, or maybe they are so narrowly focused, my stand-up comedy show is really unwanted. I’m socially awkward anyway, so I walk out of these situations at least having made myself laugh and completely unaware of the extremity of how awkward I really was.

Anyway, it hurt like a son of a gun every time it was bumped. She really had no clue what it was initially. She sliced off the top of the bump, saw no signs of wart “roots,” and decided it might be a hemangioma. So she said I could have it frozen or cauterized, and it would dry up and fall off, and maybe then the vascular bump at the end of my finger would be no more.

Um, okay.

Given the choice, I thought some medically induced frostbite would be the better way to go. And I’ve never been fond of smelling my own flesh burning with medical welding tools. No thanks. If we were going to go that direction, why not just hot-glue-gun my finger at home without the copay? Not my favorite thing. Since I’m a wimp, I assumed a needle of anesthetic would be presented. Nope. She barely asked me if I was ready (doesn’t she know I’d love an epidural just to have a mole removed?) and blast that arctic burn right at my finger for what felt like a full minute. I’m admittedly a real wimp with pain, so it was about two minutes before I could breathe again. I was so incredulous she wasn’t turning that thing off after 10 seconds. Really. I kept looking at her with complete disbelief in my eyes as if any second now she was going to turn that puppy off. Finally, between choking down some oxygen (told you I was a wimp), I declared: “Okay, then. I think I’m all set.” She was having way too much fun with her freeze-blast tool, and she looked like a superhero being told to go back to her secret identity when her services were proven no longer necessary.

And you know what? I got over it. I claimed a little social media sympathy over my little experience, sucked it up, and moved on. But it got me thinking how I wish my sin, insecurities, relational hurts, feelings of betrayal could all be heroically blasted like that. That a full minute of holding my breath and twinging would make it be over.

Oh, wait.

They already were. Over, that is. Those of us with faith in Christ believe they hung on Jesus for several hours. It wasn’t quick or painless or pretty, but “it is finished.” It is finished indeed!

John 19:30, Apostle John speaking
When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

So when I’m tempted to dwell on those things, I need to remember that I can live in restored, redeemed relationship with Christ, and therefore with others. My thoughts, my fears, my temptations, my hurts…all taken care of on that cross. Grace covering me like a blanket I never have to take off. I need to look at my finger (it’s tall and the middle one, after all, so hard to miss) and remember He took that all on for me so that I don’t have to dwell in a lack of peace. I can dwell in Him. And there’s truly no place I’d rather be.

What does “It is finished” mean to you?

Welcome to Espressos of Faith!

03 Aug

There are so many discussions I regularly have on social media on a full range of important (and some just-for-fun) topics. I decided to move some of that conversation over here to Espressos of Faith. My sister and I dream about opening up an espresso shop on the New Jersey Shore when we retire someday; I’d love to serve espresso drinks and offer prayer all day. For now, this is the word version of a future dream. This web site is where anyone interested can follow my publication journey. But it’s also a place to join me in conversation about great reads, parenting in the trenches, how faith in Christ informs our family’s decisions about how to handle the everyday, the challenges and amazing blessings of a child in special education, life with two Shih Tzus, raising teens and tweens (daughter and sons), food allergy experiences, mental health advocacy, more-than-occasional coffee talk, and absolutely much ado about grace.

Blessings!

Bonnie Lyn Smith, Author of Not Just on Sundays

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(Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture references throughout the blog site are from the New International Version.)

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