When Words Aren't Enough

On Thursday I was asked to visit with a girl that had just received news about the death of her grandfather. As I waited for her to finish with her phone call, I sat there thinking through the emotions that, I knew for a fact, she must be experiencing. Having just recently lost my own grandfather, I was trying to figure out what to say and I discovered that I really couldn't say anything. Reliving my own experience told me that, no matter what I said, sometimes words don't go far enough.

Some people are excellent at communicating through words, but we all run into situations where we are left speechless. For some of us, this happens more frequently than others. I'll find myself in a situation where I wish I could be charming and witty, but the only thing that comes out is flat and boring. I remember a situation when I was in a history club at about age 9 or 10, we were preparing a skit and we all had to give ideas. All I can remember is sobbing in front of the other girls with no ideas to share - oh, and the awkward feeling that fell over the group afterwards.

As we grow up, things change in the way and proficiency of how we talk. However, this doesn't always mean that we become great communicators. How many times do we wish that we could say what we feel and then the words don't match the emotions on the inside? The heaviness that plagues me sometimes is extremely frustrating, almost debilitating. Apparently, though, my face reveals things I may or may not be thinking, which probably just confuses the whole situation.

Hiding in these facts is a truth for all of us, and a blessing. No matter who we are or what we do, there will be times that words will not be enough to convey the pain, joy, love, and sorrow that we experience. This truth in the Christian's life is blessed by the knowledge that when we don't know how to pray, the Holy Spirit is interceding on our behalf with a groaning too deep for words. (Romans 8:26) And, here is the extra jam on the sandwich (so to speak), He is praying according to the will of God himself. He's not just conveying our deep thoughts to God, but He's actually praying the way we should. How humbling, overwhelming and gracious our God is to us.

So, as I agonize over what I did or didn't say, I can dwell on the truth that God hears what I wish I could ask. He knows my fears and my desires. And most of all, He has made me his own - of His own choosing, not because of what I say.

Life and Frisbee

Frisbee inventor Walter Frederick Morrison

I played Frisbee last night. No, this is not a declaration of something unusual or rare but it sets the scene of my comments. While pondering some of the plays that were made or attempted, my mind has been formulating some thoughts that might be worthwhile to others.

Playing a good game of Frisbee is my goal on nights like last night. I try to pick up tips and improve my game, step by step. A few weeks ago I was talking to some friends about team loyalty and how to adjust when you get swapped for another player. One of my struggles was switching my "allegiance" and playing well with my new team. Then one friend mentioned that working towards playing a good game can happen regardless of who you are playing with. This brought to my mind that I was spending too much time thinking about what I had done wrong (real or imagined), instead of focusing on improving the rest of the game.

I started to examine my thought process during a game. One of the driving forces to play well was to be a wanted and valuable team member. When I dropped the Frisbee or threw it poorly, my drive diminished because I started thinking about how bad I was playing instead of trying to improve my catches and throws. The more I thought about my potential to over-think my failure, I realized that life has some similarities to a Frisbee game.

Since that lunch discussion and my "analysis", I have realized that all lot of us dwell too much on the past. If you were playing a Frisbee game and someone threw you a wild Frisbee, you probably wouldn't start griping for the next 5 plays, about that thrower and how bad they were. You would start guarding someone and hope to get the Frisbee back into your team's possession. So, why do we gripe about how someone hurt us 10 years ago or how we would be different if a specific event hadn't occurred in our lives? Or even dwelling on what we thought would be pleasant things that didn't happen when we thought they should?

The reality is this: the past is important, because it is true. But, complaining, griping, and slandering people as part of your past accomplishes nothing today, except discord and discontent. In Psalm 139:16 it says:

     "[God's] eyes have seen my unformed substance;
     And in [His] book were all written
     The days that were ordained for me,
     When as yet there was not one of them."

Do you acknowledge His sovereignty? Will you accept where He took you and the things that He allowed in your life? Or will you complain and miss the next five "Frisbees" that are being thrown your way?

Living on the Edge

Wallflower – this term became known to me early-on in my life. Being one was not fun, and sometimes hurt. I was not cool. I couldn't dress to impress. We didn't throw parties that everyone was begging to attend. I still remember feeling proud the day when Dad picked us up from a birthday party in his company car – a deep purple Firebird – our “recognition factor” jumped several points as guys and girls crowded around to see it. The white Camaro had the same effect. 

Our church youth group was something of which my sister and I longed to be a part. We tried to join groups in discussion, we joined the musicians and played with the congregational singing. Our parents didn't let us attend many sleepovers so our “fun times” were somewhat limited, but still there.

I must have mentioned some of these feelings of being unwanted to one of my mother's friends and she told me something I'll never forget. “Toni, sometimes being a wallflower is better than being in the popular crowd.” 

This made me think and finally start to accept my “status”. Life moved on. We changed churches a couple times and I moved south. But, I stayed on the edge.

Not all is lonely on the edge. I have many friends and times to talk and learn are many, but the drive to be popular has lessened some and I find life is less stressful. The benefits of a wallflower have increased as I consider my life. My growth in Christ has been assisted by true friends but not pressured by peers. Peer pressure is less on the edge and only has disastrous effects when trying to join the crowds. Don't get me wrong, I'm not denying that I would like to be considered popular. There is a deep feeling in all of us to be wanted by others.

The challenge/point of this post? Don't strive to be the center in the popular crowd. Strength to stand alone is greater when not spinning on the popularity merry-go-round. Seek the Lord and His will for your friendships, standards, and directions for your life.

If you are at the center of a crowd, don't underestimate the power of your influence. You may find it harder to stand-up for what's right, but the effects will be far-reaching. Also, consider those on the edge, a smile or an interest in their life goes a long way. But like I mentioned above – seek God and His will, without pressure for results acceptable to those around you.

Scars, Dimples, or Freckles?

The mark that Jesus leaves when He touches us is permanent. It's a mark that we notice, even though we may not attribute it to Him at first. It's not a mark that can be covered, because it overcomes our human nature. 

But the marks I'm writing about are the ones we leave. Think about your encounters with friends and strangers - "That song I really like, didn't Jenny play it for me?", "Never said 'Dude' until I met Joe", "That recipe is from Mom's college roommate", or "I really liked the shirt that the cashier was wearing". You are affected every day by touches from others. In the same way, you touch those you meet.

What kind of marks are you leaving? Scars are left by wounds that don't heal properly. Have you ripped something from someone? My mom has a dimple that was a result of an accident with a bicycle and a glass bottle. So her wound became something that is attractive. Some friendships start off quite rough, but as kindness and forgiveness enter the relationship they provide healing in an amazing way. Freckles are sometimes caused by sun, so a touch of warmth in a person's life can leave a positive mark as a result of your encounter. 

So how are you touching lives? How do you let someone's touch effect you? Remember, you leave a mark, even when you don't realize it.