(Un)Learning

We used to have a white mutt of a dog named Zeddie. He was a pretty pitiful dog, but was deeply loved by our family. He was a rescue through another family and it become clear to us early on that he had been abused as a puppy. He become part of our family when he was no more than two years old and yet the abuse he suffered had an impact on him for the rest of his life. He would cringe whenever strangers came around and even acted fearful of us on occasion. No matter how much we continued to love him he still struggled with those base fears that had been imprinted on him when he was younger.

I don't think it's that different for people either. The negative experiences we have in our family of origin, previous relationships, and unhealthy work environments imprint a response on our souls that is difficult to change. Perhaps the most difficult part of our own lifelong education is in un-learning negative patterns, reactions, and assumptions. Like any other lasting change we want to make in our lives this won't happen accidentally. We have to decide to learn not to respond in emotionally unstable ways, not to drift back into destructive habits, and not to flinch every time we approached.

This isn't alway a simple process, but there are some key things we can do to get moving in the right direction.

• Get out of the unhealthy situation: when things are toxic you need to step away for your own safety
• Recognize your negative reactions: increase your self-awareness and see where your past experiences are influencing your present behaviors
• Swap in healthy responses: start changing out fearful, reactionary responses with ones that bring peace to your soul
• Deal with your grief: meet this head-on as you'll need to address what's happened to you instead of burying it deep and hoping it goes away
• Move forward: this sounds easier than it actually is and will take longer than you want it to take.

We won’t get it right the first time or every time, but we will get better as we travel this pathway to healing and learn new ways of living fully.

Saying Goodbye to The Velvet Hammer

My hometown community suffered a great loss last week when my friend, mentor, colleague, and former boss, Patsy Graham passed away. We haven’t stayed in consistent touch with each other since she retired several years ago, but that doesn’t soften my sense of loss or the grief I feel at her death. 

I have known her for close to 30 years with nine of those working together at Mainland High School. She was tough as nails and wouldn’t back down from anyone. Patsy was also incredibly gracious and would look for ways to help people fulfill their potential and become the best version of themselves they could possibly be. While she was known as a great leader and principal, it was her genuine concern for individuals and her desire to see them grow that truly marked her leadership. It’s this combination of strength and gentleness that helped to earn her the nickname, “The Velvet Hammer."

I remember hearing one story in particular coming out of a principal’s meeting. Another local leader was lamenting the difficulties of educating the students who were struggling at the bottom of the curve. This other principal commented that his overall school performance would improve if they didn’t have to deal with that group. In her inimitable southern accent, Patsy leaned across the table with fiery passion and said, “Send those students to us! We will educate them!” It was a perfect example of her commitment to bettering everyone within her reach without regard for what the system might have to say about it.

One of the hardest conversations I’ve ever had was when I left Mainland to go into ministry. I called and asked her if I could stop by her house as this needed to be a personal, face-to-face conversation. I distinctly remember being very nervous at sharing this news with her—not because I was afraid of her reaction, but because I didn’t want to disappoint her. We sat in recliners in her living room as I struggled to get the news out and to seek her input. I don’t know that I actually received her blessing that day even though she (grudgingly) understood my decision. She was so passionate about education and helping all of us—students and teachers alike—become better people and then sharing that legacy together.

The last time I saw her was almost two years ago at a Mainland family wedding. I didn’t know this would be our last chance to talk, but I felt compelled to share a few words with her. As she was getting ready to leave, I hugged her tightly and spoke in her ear over the loud reception music. I told her she was the best leader I had ever been privileged to work with and that her influence was tangibly evident in me and my views of those around me. I went on to let her know that there weren’t many days where I didn’t think about her and how well she cared for us all. I almost feel that those few moments were inadequate to fully describe her impact, but I at least wanted her to know how much she meant to me. We parted with a hug and “I love you,” not knowing it would be the last time we spoke.

There isn’t one person who will be able to fill her role, but all of us who have been impacted by her will do our best to keep working for the good cause. We will be strong when it is needed and stand for those who can’t stand for themselves. We will be compassionate and understanding while believing the best in others. We will strive to lead others to work together for the common good and look for every moment to do what’s right. It won’t be easy, but together we can continue to see her good work continued. 

You will be greatly missed, my friend. We will do our best to carry your legacy forward. 

No Guarantees

None of us is promised tomorrow. That's a somewhat cliche, albeit true statement that isn't necessarily pleasant to ponder. The darkness of the thought doesn't stop it from being accurate however. Lately there have been far too many reminders of the brevity of life. I’ve watched as unexpected grief has crashed down over families and friends. I’ve even been knocked off my own rhythm by the surprise of death.

There are no easy answers to the grief we endure or the unanswered questions we will have. No matter how we might try to prepare we won’t be completely ready for death when it impacts us. We can make the most of the opportunities in front of us however. We can choose to care deeply for people in our lives and let them know it regularly. Without a guarantee of tomorrow we have to live today the best way we know how.

In Grief

The shortest verse in the Bible is found in John 11:35 where it simply says that "Jesus wept." It is at a time when a close friend of his has died and people are attributing his emotions to this loss. I tend to believe it also revealed how Jesus understood the power death has over us. Even though Jesus was going to defeat this forever, He knew how much grief it would cause us. He knew the pain we would have to endure when we were confronted by it, and the deep sorrow we would feel.

I have seen death and its effects too much recently. I too grieve as Jesus did for those that suffer and I turn to the only answer I know. It's the solution of Christ, His peace that passes understanding and our confidence in a life beyond this one. It doesn't eliminate our sorrow, but it provides the only true source of hope.

Standing Tall

My uncle Bob passed away today. His body had become too weak to bounce back from treatments and surgery. He has suffered from multiple physical ailments since I have known him and this last one become too much for him to overcome. The powerful balance to his weak physical form was in his tremendously strong spirit. His inner confidence came directly from his relationship with Jesus Christ and the passionate desire to share that hope with others. He was a faithful, praying man who was unapologetic and yet unobtrusive about his convictions. He carried himself with a strength of heart that belied his failing body and continued to serve and share until his last breath here with us. Uncle Bob's longevity-not just in years, but in steadfast commitment to Christ and family-will be a testimony of his life and an example for the rest of us to live up to. I can speak with 100% complete confidence when I say that he is now perfectly healed and in heaven. His witness will stand as tall as he is finally able to do again now.