Monday, February 6, 2012

stream of consciousness...

Words gather then scatter to the winds and I wonder what in the world is worth saying.

For a homeschool writing assignment, I will sometimes ready the kids with a prompt, set a timer and "GO!" There's no stopping the pen for ten minutes or so, just write, write, write until the timer dings. My girls usually beg for more time, the rush of words blowing strong so that they don't want to stop. They can lift their eyes brave and proud to read out loud because I don't look, just listen, and hear them, see them, not their mistakes. Later, we will choose which freewrite to revise and edit. At that point, their spelling and grammar will be tackled but by then their ideas have heart. They are invested and much happier to hammer it out.

Anyway, I am assigning myself similarly. My prompt is a real e-mail I received recently with "What not to say" (when a beloved friend is suffering) in the subject line. Specifically, as our mutual friends tred through the minefield of cancer with their teen son, Thomas.

The last line of my response to her follows:

"The truth is, as long as we are motivated by love, I think it is all we can do. And it is enough."

During our family's trials, we have received such an outpouring of love and grace that to mention the few things that might not have been helpful seems downright irrelevant. Not to mention that I have walked away kicking myself more than a few times for my rather obtuse insensitivity to the pain of others over the years. I certainly am no authority on what not to say! More convinced than ever that love overwhelms all things and covers a multitude of thoughtlessness, I believe love redeems the offenses that curiously accompany greater afflictions.

Still, there is something to note in the fact that Job's friends initially did well to sit silently with him in his sorrow. It was when they opened their mouths that they went askew. Miserable comforters they are called. They compounded the pain, multiplied it even, with their opinions too freely shared. It is enough warning to clasp my hand over my mouth and cry, "Please, Lord, have mercy and shut my mouth!"

It is my experience that loss begets loss. In other words, there are ripple loss effects to the heavyweights. Relational casualties are a sad reality. Perhaps if expectations are harnessed, naivety to pain acknowledged, opinions stemmed, maybe, just maybe there will be one less.

Looking back, aside from Steve and our other two children, who were too young to understand, I struggled to manage the expectations or relational needs around me well, once our son started showing signs of bone marrow failure. We prized the days together like pearls in the hand. I would allow little else to distract the eyes of my heart, apart from the battles that waged upon the soil of my soul. In the hospital and at home, I needed to be fully present with my own. However, with a sick child I dared not leave, a man to hold, children twirling, tugging at my legs, there was never enough of me. Time to myself was also scarce but afforded a safe place to fall apart. The Spirit of God soothed and fed me, strengthening me continually. In the seven months that Caleb endured on a bone marrow unit, I was rarely undivided. Grateful that my parents were with our babies, I still found there to be a pulling -- such a tendency to guilt. One of the greatest gifts others could give me was time and space, void of guilt. Having said that, I don’t mean that I did not genuinely need or want anyone around me. I did! The hard truth is, at times I wanted a particular person present, but not others. It wasn’t a reflection on them and I felt it a kindness when my dear friends could be thankful that there was someone that I wanted or needed, a confidant that was a comfort in the situation --even if it wasn’t them.

Does this sound hard? It is. It all is.

Please hear me, sweet friends. Faith, hope and love. The greatest of these is love. It is more than enough.

13 comments:

Ginger said...

Amen. We have been so thankful for the times when others blessed when we couldn't. We have known that at times we were not the ones chosen to comfort and had to love by giving up that privilege. The hardest thing and the best thing in loving a friend through suffering is putting aside all the ways you want to love and serve in order to love well. This means setting aside expectations and offense because their best is most important to you. The embrace of friendship includes freedom to need or not need without explanation, giving the benefit of the doubt. This requires security in a great Love. He is enough and we can trust each other with Him.

Amy said...

Gin, if I love half as well as you have loved me over the years, I will have done well. You are counted among the dearest treasures of my life.

Naomi said...

Oh dear Amy. I love this post. Its such a wonderful reminder to humble yourself as a friend and realize that what is best for them may or may not involve you. And you said it beautifully! Love you so much. Glad to see you writing.

emily said...

Hard and hard again yet beautifully put. I keep saying the same thing...

emily said...

..about your posts, that is :)

Tracy said...

I am so glad you are writing! I love it! It is such a blessing to all those who read......More love to you than I can send in words......

Amy said...

Look who's here! I feel like I am walking into a coffee shop to meet my best friends! How is it possible to be so rich in friendship?

Tracy said...

You loved us and we LOVE you! : ) Looking forward to heaven when we will actually get to be in the best coffee shop imaginable and no separation!

Erin said...

Amy, This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

I struggle with allowing love to overcome the painful wounds, because it is a choice--to choose whether or not to see the love that was intended or the pain that was actually received. It's so painful to be broken people living in a broken world with other broken people and sometimes our best intentions (and those of others) still go awry. I am always hopeful that others extend grace to me in this area, and I am learning to extend it to others, too. Thanks for adding your words to my inner dialogue. :)

Amy said...

Hi Erin!

I completely agree --all our brokenness can be crippling apart from God's grace. Keeping the wounds clean requires such inner work and commitment to love. I struggle with this and in enlightened moments know it is part of the good fight. May the Lord bless you as you press deeper into love.

Turquoise Gates said...

This is beautiful, raw, but eloquent. I need the reminder not to be always the "expert" - especially when it comes to what not to say. I am so glad you are writing. Have you heard of Gypsy Mama (another MK you would adore in real life) and her 5 minute Friday writing prompts? I just started doing them and love it. Check her out at http://thegypsymama.com

A big {virtual} squeeze to you and yours!

Michele said...

" Perhaps if expectations are harnessed, naivety to pain acknowledged, opinions stemmed, maybe, just maybe there will be one less." Thank you for this, Amy. This is so helpful to remember. It seems to be about dying to self in order to really love a friend. I might want to love in a certain way, but that might not be what my friend needs. Thank you for writing - I look forward to more. Thank you for being there in all the right ways for Emily. Love you!

Michele said...

That comment is from me, Amy. I don't know why it showed up "unknown". - Michele