Few people readily sign up for discomfort.
I mean, we do. We get tattoos, we pierce our ears (and other things), etc. And therapists make a lot of money picking apart our millions of reasons for self-destructive tendencies.
But generally speaking, we try to move away from pain as quickly as possible.
It goes against every survival instinct we have. Get away. Flee from pain or danger. Avoid problem areas. Don’t get your hands dirty. Stay away from messiness.
Most of the time when we are faced with an uncomfortable situation, we resist and try to get away from it. And that’s normal human nature.
But normal human nature is not the highest calling of a believer. We are called to the difficult, the messy and yes, sometimes even the dangerous.
Missionaries do it all the time, many of them giving up the comforts of the good ole USA to venture to the four corners of the earth to make sure every ear has heard the gospel. Undercover Christians still seek out ways to get into China while their government cracks down on churches.
And yet even in what should be our safest places with our friends and family, we try to avoid or ignore conflict. Instead of fighting for the relationship, we often back away slowly so no one notices to protect our own inner peace.
As my kids say, weak sauce.
As a coach I am currently working with several broken families. Parents or siblings who disagree when their child’s/sibling’s choices and back away. I find myself serving as a mediator in these situations and the first thing I address is those who have purposely distanced themselves in protest.
It’s natural. The situation is messy, difficult, unpleasant and they don’t have to stand for it. It would only be enabling if they stayed close, right? They must communicate their disapproval to their loved one by disappearing, with the implication that once said loved one moves back into what they deem acceptable, they will reopen themselves to a relationship.
Granted, most of these family members have no idea that this is what they’re doing. Again, it’s natural to move away from uncomfortable.
I was having this discussion with some disapproving parents, very loving people who expressed genuine concern for their daughter. But they have made their disapproval very clear over the past 30 years or so, which has slowly chipped away at their relationship with her. They had no idea what a burden they had put on her shoulders. And when I told them, it broke their hearts.
We talked through different options of reconciliation and healing, all involving stepping into the messiness surrounded by years of baggage for a raw and painful conversation. At one point, the father squirmed in discomfort.
“You know,” he said honestly, “this just may not be worth it. I’m not sure this is a hill I want to die on.” I knew what he meant. The prospect was too daunting. The pain too real. Too much time had passed. And it would get messier still before it would get better.
“With all due respect,” I answered, “I actually can’t think of a more important hill for you to die on.” Last I heard, peace talks have begun, apologies have been made and the family is moving toward healing.
I remember talking to a pastor and his wife over lunch about a mutual friend who had experienced a moral failure and the lack of accountability prevented healing. And he fell away.
“I
blame his parents,” the pastor announced.
I looked at him, completely lost. “Why?”
He stabbed his salad violently. “They should have been standing so close to their son that when his life exploded, the shrapnel hit them too.”
In that case, the well-intentioned parents backed away from the mess, offering encouragement at a safe distance, at the cost of their son’s restoration.
Another family I know of involved the parents disagreeing with their daughter’s current lifestyle and choices. They walked away, saying they’d be there for her when she came to her senses. They have ignored her birthday, don’t speak of her at the holidays, they have cut her off in every way.
Little do they know, she is no longer living the life they so adamantly disagreed with. And she has no intention of telling them. Because as much as she misses them, the risk of reengaging their conditional love is more frightening to her than a life without them.
When I’m working at home, I like to have something on in the background, usually Grey’s Anatomy reruns. Just the other day, I came across a perfect description of staying close or moving toward a problem.
George had just married his girlfriend in Vegas on a whim. His best friend, Izzy, is in full-blown protest mode and makes her opinions known to anyone who would listen (and even those who wouldn’t).
Izzy: I can’t lie about how I feel.
George: Actually, you can. You can. People lie all the time. They hold their tongues and they wait. You should hold your tongue because if I’m not making a mistake, you’re gonna look like a jerk. And if I am [making a mistake], I’m gonna need you. I need you. And you keep taking that away.
I couldn’t have said it better. When you distance yourself from a loved one because you disagree with some part of their life, you 1) betray that whole unconditional love thing and 2) burn the bridge they might need to cross for your support.
We must fight our instincts to flee when things get messy. We must move toward the problem. Stand in the gap. Stay close. The bigger the problem, the closer you need to be to your loved one.
God the Father stays close. He promises,
Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you… And the Lord, He is the One who goes before you. He will be with you, He will not leave you nor forsake you; do not fear nor be dismayed. Deuteronomy 31:6, 8
And don’t ask WWJD. Because the Man LIVED in the mess.
Healed the unclean.
Made friends with the outcasts.
Protected the victims.
Dined with sinners.
Talked back to the bullies.
Stood up for the underdogs.
Pissed off the big dogs.
He rocked every boat, walked right into the hornet’s nest of Jerusalem, disturbed all the ‘peace,’ and yes, literally died on that hill.
Died on that hill. To reconcile the broken relationship between God and His children.
May we all be so willing to stay close and stand in the mess for those we love.
