Category: "I'm in the bathroom; not on a spaceship to Mars!"
What is it that sends those with whom we live into a state of panic whenever we are out of sight? When my children were little, I couldn't go to the bathroom without one or both of them running through the house yelling for me like I had abandoned them.
These days, it's my cats that panic whenever I go to the bathroom - and they either squeeze through the partially open door or stick their paws under it like if they just reach a little farther...they'll make contact - hopefully not with my dead body.
And to add insult to injury, the same guy who forgets to call to let me know he arrived at his destination when he goes on a business trip, freaks out when I am out of sight longer than three minutes. I swear he has an egg timer app on his phone. Does he think I've been taken up by the Rapture?? Surely he knows that is as likely as me going to Mars...
Category: "Why do people feel the need to make everything about themselves?"
While putting laundry away this morning, I walked into the corner of the wooden footboard on our bed. Now, my knees are bad on a good day, so when the unyielding wood stabbed into one, the pain was blinding. As I hunched over muttering expletives, my hubby, who had been in mid-shave, walked out of the bathroom and asked what happened. Through my pain I managed to stutter out, "I hhhit my kkknee on the bed."
His next words, "Oh, I've done that a million times," caused the blinding pain in my knee to morph into blinding rage. On the upside, if he wanted to, he couldn't have picked a more effective way to make me forget about my knee.
Now, I suppose he figured it was his way of commiserating with me, but it struck me as dismissive. My reply was pointed, "Well, I'm sorry this happened to YOU a million times - cause it HURTS LIKE FUCK!" As he turned away, I could hear him mumble under his breath, "Why do you have to be so cantankerous?"
In one fell swoop I went from victim to mean old shrew. That I felt the need to apologize for snapping at him in my time of agony added even more insanity to the scenario. Not only did my knee still hurt like hell but now I was struggling with a moral dilemma: How are we supposed to react when we're injured - bodily, emotionally, spiritually - and the person with whom we share our distress makes it about them?
Category: "A Life Lesson is Coming Your Way"
I spent nearly twenty years ministering to those in pain or need. I even trained countless others in the "Art of Listening." One of the pitfalls we warned of was internalizing someone else's pain. Tempting as it may be, it really isn't helpful to say something like, "Oh, let me tell you about my (fill in the blank) and how I came through just fine. "Well, bully for you. What if I'm not so lucky?"
When our son was five years old he required heart surgery. It was a vascular anomaly which, thankfully, did not involve open heart surgery. We were a young family; new to our church. I felt comfort in knowing others would be praying for our little boy.
One day, I received a phone call from a very sweet woman who wanted to let me know her daughter had the surgery as a preemie and she came through with flying colors. My heart knew she meant well, but all I could think of was how my son's odds of having an unremarkable surgery were now decreased. I wanted to scream, "Good for you and your child! But what if something goes wrong for my child?!?" I learned then and there to not ever compare my experiences, or that of my Aunt Alice, to anyone else's.
It's not easy. We so desperately want to take someone's pain away from them. We tell ourselves it's because we care, but truth be told, it's really because we are uncomfortable with it. We want everything in our world to be copacetic - even the lives of a relative, friend, coworker or church member. People who are "fixers" are the worst. If they can't fix a problem, they can't deal with it.
A much better response when someone is in pain - from a loss, illness or having a wooden stake impale their knee - is thus, "I'm so sorry this happened to you. I can tell you're in pain." Then shut up. That's right, stop talking. You do not need to fill the space with your similar experience or ways in which you can fix the problem. And, unless they are bleeding from a sliced artery or having a heart attack, there is little you need to do. You'd be surprised how grateful a person is to talk, uninterrupted, about their pain - or just sit in comforting silence with a caring (silent) person.
Well, I went off on a Patti Tangent there. Hey, maybe you learned something. Maybe not. Anyway, my knee still smarts but I'll live. Hubster wisely kept his mouth shut and has left on a business trip. Let's see if he lets me know when he's arrived at his destination...
Category: "Why do people feel the need to make everything about themselves?"
While putting laundry away this morning, I walked into the corner of the wooden footboard on our bed. Now, my knees are bad on a good day, so when the unyielding wood stabbed into one, the pain was blinding. As I hunched over muttering expletives, my hubby, who had been in mid-shave, walked out of the bathroom and asked what happened. Through my pain I managed to stutter out, "I hhhit my kkknee on the bed."
His next words, "Oh, I've done that a million times," caused the blinding pain in my knee to morph into blinding rage. On the upside, if he wanted to, he couldn't have picked a more effective way to make me forget about my knee.
Now, I suppose he figured it was his way of commiserating with me, but it struck me as dismissive. My reply was pointed, "Well, I'm sorry this happened to YOU a million times - cause it HURTS LIKE FUCK!" As he turned away, I could hear him mumble under his breath, "Why do you have to be so cantankerous?"
In one fell swoop I went from victim to mean old shrew. That I felt the need to apologize for snapping at him in my time of agony added even more insanity to the scenario. Not only did my knee still hurt like hell but now I was struggling with a moral dilemma: How are we supposed to react when we're injured - bodily, emotionally, spiritually - and the person with whom we share our distress makes it about them?
Category: "A Life Lesson is Coming Your Way"
I spent nearly twenty years ministering to those in pain or need. I even trained countless others in the "Art of Listening." One of the pitfalls we warned of was internalizing someone else's pain. Tempting as it may be, it really isn't helpful to say something like, "Oh, let me tell you about my (fill in the blank) and how I came through just fine. "Well, bully for you. What if I'm not so lucky?"
When our son was five years old he required heart surgery. It was a vascular anomaly which, thankfully, did not involve open heart surgery. We were a young family; new to our church. I felt comfort in knowing others would be praying for our little boy.
One day, I received a phone call from a very sweet woman who wanted to let me know her daughter had the surgery as a preemie and she came through with flying colors. My heart knew she meant well, but all I could think of was how my son's odds of having an unremarkable surgery were now decreased. I wanted to scream, "Good for you and your child! But what if something goes wrong for my child?!?" I learned then and there to not ever compare my experiences, or that of my Aunt Alice, to anyone else's.
It's not easy. We so desperately want to take someone's pain away from them. We tell ourselves it's because we care, but truth be told, it's really because we are uncomfortable with it. We want everything in our world to be copacetic - even the lives of a relative, friend, coworker or church member. People who are "fixers" are the worst. If they can't fix a problem, they can't deal with it.
A much better response when someone is in pain - from a loss, illness or having a wooden stake impale their knee - is thus, "I'm so sorry this happened to you. I can tell you're in pain." Then shut up. That's right, stop talking. You do not need to fill the space with your similar experience or ways in which you can fix the problem. And, unless they are bleeding from a sliced artery or having a heart attack, there is little you need to do. You'd be surprised how grateful a person is to talk, uninterrupted, about their pain - or just sit in comforting silence with a caring (silent) person.
Well, I went off on a Patti Tangent there. Hey, maybe you learned something. Maybe not. Anyway, my knee still smarts but I'll live. Hubster wisely kept his mouth shut and has left on a business trip. Let's see if he lets me know when he's arrived at his destination...
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