Humanity Hurts

You never realize how much you care about someone until you hurt them. And even when you know that they'll forgive you, it's the minuscule thought that they might even consider they are less valued in your eyes makes you want to duck tape your mouth shut.

I don't like to admit how much people matter to me. Because that level of caring (for me) means dependence and therefore weakness. That whole notion God has really used to grate on me these past few weeks. The idea that yes. There is going to be pain. And yes. I am weak. And absolutely I will have to show it.

It was one of those moments where words failed me. But more than that, I was a coward and went the 'safe' route instead of saying what I meant. Or even just admitting to what I might mean. I ducked out of the side which left the person I was talking to feeling insecure, lost, and undervalued. Not because that person is weak necessarily, or needy. But because that person had invested a level of trust and vulnerability. And when I turned my shoulder on that, that person tripped.

And may I just say, that on top of that, text messages fail at adequate communication of emotion? I hate it. I immediately called the person and tried to explain where I was coming from. I had to admit to my fears and weaknesses and unsureness. But even after hanging up, things were not back to normal. Because the scars are still there. Even if the other person doesn't feel it. I do. Because I care more than I let myself realize.

It's especially bad, letting people dow, when they've done so much for you. Invested into you. Provided for you. Supported you. And then when they start to lean on you . . . you drop them.

Ha. I claimed I'd be the strong one that impacted the people in my life and inspired them. So far all I've done is damage control for my own clumsiness.

What's worse is when their gracious. Well, technically it's good. But when I feel awful, I want them to yell at me. To give me what I deserve. But then instead, they talk about how even when I hurt them, I still make them smile . . . lemon juice on a wound made by a cheese grater. In other words, the feeling is less than spectacular. Humbling, encouraging, frustrating all at the same time.

I suppose it's good though. I need to experience this. To understand just how much people matter to me: their opinions, their lives, their feelings. But goodness. couldn't I just have an epitome or something? Sheesh.

The absolute kicker of this whole type of situation is this: I don't know how to fix it. I'm practically a handyman when it comes to repairing conflict (or avoiding it). But with stuff like this, when my gracelessness is the problem . . . I'm at a loss. The only satisfactory solution I've come to thus far is give it up to God. And work at selflessly serving the people in my life to demonstrate just how much they mean to me. Because words are easily forgotten. But the actions behind words set a rhythm, a motion, a chain reaction that lasts and impacts much more. That's why I have hope that relationships can be healed: because I got Jesus as my example for how to live out love.

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” Philippians 4:8

<3 Katie