Loving Confrontation

Better is open rebuke than hidden love.  Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy.  ~ Proverbs 27:5-6 (ESV)

Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.  ~ Proverbs 27:17 (ESV)

"No! That's not the way you're supposed to do it!"  

I can still hear the abrupt exclamation coming out of my mouth, directed at a dear friend who had offered to make the coffee for our happy little get together.  It was just the two of us, so I had pulled out my single-cup coffee brewers (the kind you brew right over the cup).  Since we had both opted for the same type of coffee, rather than measuring the grounds into two separate filters, she had measured a double portion into one filter, with a plan to brew both cups with the same grounds, one after the other.

"Why does it matter?" she asked.  

"The first cup will be really strong and the second cup will be weak and watery!  You're supposed to brew each cup separately!" I contended, certain that my way was the right way - the only way, really.  

"Then I'll just take the second cup." she offered.  

"OK, if you want to do it that way, go ahead." I conceded, wondering why in the world she couldn't see the clear and obvious wisdom of my admonitions, and sure that once she had tasted that second cup of coffee she would see that I was right.

The ensuing silence evaded my attention as I resumed setting the table, and once we sat down, I had all but forgotten our little exchange, so I was surprised to notice that her formerly cheerful and enthusiastic demeanor seemed to have become sober and withdrawn.  Unsure of whether or not my perceptions were accurate and not wanting to read anything into her apparent mood change, I launched into the friendly chatter that so often characterizes our interaction.  

"Can I talk to you about something?" my friend interrupted, tentatively.  

"Of course!" I offered, my heart rate increasing a bit.

"This is really hard for me to say," she began, "but when I offer to help with something and you focus on how I'm doing it "wrong," it makes me not want to offer to help anymore." she said, tears glistening in her eyes.  

Immediately, a tirade of defensive words filled my mind:  explanations of how I had only meant to educate her on the proper way to make the coffee - not to hurt her feelings. After all, she wasn't doing it the right way - what else was I to do?  Just let the coffee be ruined?  

Quickly as those thoughts had come, though, I sensed a gentle nudge of the Spirit, reminding me of what it felt like to be on the other side of the equation, in the form of a memory that flashed across the screen of my mind. In my early teen years, when dining at the home of my next door neighbors, I had been asked to help by making the salad.  It was a simple enough request, to be sure, but I can still vividly recall feeling an acute and unsettling nervousness that I would somehow find a way to mess things up by cutting the tomatoes "wrong."

"Am I supposed to cut them in chunks or slices?" I had wondered, but hadn't dared to ask, for fear that my display of ignorance would just make me feel more inept.  

Gratefully, I don't recall being chastised for the way I made the salad, but I can tell you for an absolute certainty that I would have been mortified if anyone had spoken to me in that moment the way I had spoken to my friend, and the realization that I had made her feel so small, filled my heart with grief.  How could I have been so blind to the effects of my posture and tone?  And worse:  how could I have ever been more concerned about coffee than about the heart of one of my dearest friends?

All in a moment, I was reminded what a gift she was giving me - the chance to acknowledge my offense (and, dare I admit, arrogance?) and receive the forgiveness her vulnerable gesture of honesty was offering.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" I responded, and following another nudge from the Spirit prompting me to maximize the learning opportunity before me, I ventured "Do I do that a lot?"

"Well, yeah, you kind of do."

Ouch.  That was hard to hear, and yet, painful as it was in the moment, I found myself feeling strangely grateful for her honesty, realizing that if my pattern of blindness to arrogant behavior had hurt my friend, surely I'd hurt others in the same way who may not have had the courage to confront me.

"Thank you so much for telling me." I offered, with tears of my own forming in my eyes. "Will you forgive me?"

"Yes, I forgive you.  Thanks for listening and apologizing."

And as quickly as the cloud of hurt and withdrawal had descended, the joy and love of a restored relationship drove it away.

* * *

It's been a few years since that loving confrontation, but it's become a defining moment of growth I don't think I will ever forget.  That's not to say I believe I've "arrived" at any pinnacle of relational perfection - quite the contrary. In spite of what I learned that day, there have still been occasions when blindness to my own pride has hurt those I love - and I'm certain there will be many more.  But thanks to the raw honesty of true friends, I can move through life with confidence and hope, trusting that when the ugly face of pride manifests itself, I have allies who will hold up a mirror so I can see myself as I really am.  What a blessing to have courageous friends who, rather than withdrawing and leaving me to wonder what happened, will instead risk their own hearts in effort to help me become more of the person I was created to be.

And, by the grace of God, I purpose to be that same kind of friend to others.

* * *

Oh, and by the way, in case you wondered, the coffee turned out just fine.

Soul Filling Relationship

"We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us."   ~1 Thessalonians 2:8

I used to love to watch the show "Friends".  (Who am I kidding, I still do!)  The draw for me wasn't so much the laughter - although I do love to laugh!  But the imagery of friends living in close proximity to one another, sharing day-to-day life - that's what drew me in.  On the show, life for the characters wasn't always peachy, but the consolation of a good friend was never far away.

Given the popularity of Friends (and the plethora of similar shows), it's a bit of a mystery to me that we live such socially scattered lives.  That's not to say that most of us don't  have a LOT of people in our lives.  (Especially if you count our "friends" on Facebook!)  But not all relationships are created equal.  Some are "all business".  Some are primarily focused on activity and just having fun.  But it's the, up-close-and-personal relationships, with people who take the time to share our inner lives, that are sources of emotional nourishment and energy.  These are the kind of relationships we deeply long to experience - because it is this kind of relationship for which we were made.  

To live in consistent, day-to-day, soul filling relationship - with people who know what I had for dinner (because they were there, not because they read it on Facebook!) - has been the cry of my heart for as long as I can remember.  I long for relationship with people who will make spending time with me a priority.  People who will laugh with me and weep with me.  People who appreciate my strengths, and are patient with my weaknesses.  People who listen intently when I talk about things that matter to me.  People who are honest with me when they're hurt or upset by my actions (or inaction), but who choose to believe the best about my heart and intentions, and are willing to forgive.  And, because relationships are at their most deeply satisfying when they are reciprocal, I long to live in relationship with people who will allow me to do the same for them.

But relationships don't always turn out that way.  People are sometimes too busy to spend time with me.  People sometimes roll their eyes at my jokes.  People sometimes distance themselves from me when I cry, because it makes them uncomfortable.  People sometimes minimize the value of my strengths, and focus on their frustrations with my weaknesses.  People are sometimes apathetic about things that matter to me.  And people sometimes respond in anger when they're hurt or upset by my actions - or silently withdraw, leaving me to wonder what happened, offering no opportunity for restoration of relationship.  And that can really hurt - especially when it's someone I really care about.

In spite of these painful experiences, and the busyness of life, I refuse to give up on people and my desire to cultivate day-to-day, soul filling relationships, because I believe my desire for relationship is God given - and one of the ways I reflect the image of my Heavenly Father.  After all, as I understand it, the very reason He created us is because He also longs to live in relationship with people who will take the time to draw close to Him.  And, because relationships are at their most deeply satisfying when they are reciprocal, He reaches out to offer us the same.  But His relationship with us doesn't always turn out that way.  And by "us" I mean "me".

Far too often, I somehow expect God to be satisfied with far less than what would satisfy me.  I get "busy" with other things and don't make spending time with Him a priority.  I neglect the things that bring Him joy and I turn my eye away from the things that make Him weep, because they make me uncomfortable.  I grossly under-value the ridiculously generous blessings He has poured out upon me, while focusing on my frustration with what it seems He has failed to do for me.  I take a passive stance in regard to the things that matter to Him, because it might require inconvenience or sacrifice on my part to do something about it.  And while, at times, I find the courage to be honest with Him about the way I've perceived His actions (or apparent inaction), it can be all too easy to withdraw from Him, questioning His heart and fearing His intentions.  And I have to believe that really hurts Him - because He really cares about me.

Gratefully, in spite of these painful experiences, God refuses to give up on me and His desire to cultivate day-to-day, soul filling relationship with me, because that's just who He is.