Encouragement Makes People “Better”
Scott and I appreciate when one of you sends us a follow up email about our blog post but this latest inquiry really got to me. One of our beloved readers is under the impression that they have done something so bad, so naughty, so absolutely unforgivable...that any inkling of positivity as it relates to faith seems....out of the question. "How can I believe this? You just do not understand."
Oh sweetie, if you only knew how many others feel as you do. We hide our secret shames, we cover our haunting doubts with cynicism or relentless positivity. We long for certainty, which can get us into deep trouble - certainty is such an illusion. So many of us are lonely, coping with our self-condemnation in isolation for fear that we would never be accepted "if people knew...". And you know what? Sometimes that is true.
Elizabeth Strout, one of my favorite authors of all time, writes about people who do naughty, even unforgivable things. I'm not talking serial killers (ok, one murderer amongst her whole cast of characters); her books are profoundly impactful because they are centered around the ordinary atrocities of daily living. In her book "Olive Kitteridge," she introduces us to a character who I love (but would hate to have for a mom). Olive is harsh, critical and intimidating. There are consequences for her and those she loves as a result of her stern personality. In Strout's sequel, "Olive, Again" - Olive realizes that she has made a terrible, terrible mistake. Her relationship with her son is broken seemingly beyond repair. Her daughter-in-law quietly reminds her estranged son, Christopher, that Olive is a narcissist - further cementing the schism. And somehow, it sinks in: Olive is if not THE problem, A problem. She has failed to love the person she loves the most - her boy.
Clearly, Olive's parental missteps were injury by a thousand tiny cuts - not outright neglect, cruelty or abandonment. Boy can I relate. There is a biblical proverb that I once quoted to my son Scott every morning during a rough transition to middle school where he didn't know a single person in any of his classes. "A man who has friends, must himself be friendly, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." (Proverbs 18:24). I emphasized the first phrase and unfortunately ignored the second part of the sentence.
Here is what I mistakenly communicated to my suffering son. Try harder. Oy vey (which literally means 'oh woe'). Again, I was wrong. Because, although it is true that there are skills that enhance our capacity to make and keep friends, I'm not sure this should have been my parental focus.
If I could turn back time, I'd do it differently. Instead of trying to instruct Scott through a suffering, I'd have tried to sit with him in the sorrow. This was a tough school transition, not a case of Scott needing to up his friend game. Instead of trying to rush him through his darker emotions of sadness, loneliness and anxiety - I wish I could have stayed with him in his dark place, at least for a little while. Maybe, after a long while, I might have tried to help Scott find some bright spots in his day and encourage him to look for the friends who 'stick closer than a brother'. But even this would only come later, after plenty of comfort and openness to hear the hard stuff.
Like Olive, I have regrets. Do you? Maybe not big and scary regrets, but the unsettling small, nagging mistakes we keep making over and over again, even when we know better.
I regret all the times when I used the scriptures as an instruction manual. I regret all the times I missed the point of this ancient book that I read each day. Today, I find it a marvelous work of wonder - a book that reminds me, and us, that there is a God who not only loves us but keeps showing us how to not only love one another but stick close too. In a recent message, Scott reminded us that God has unlimited resources to love, bless and care for humans. We are not competing for God's blessing!
I do not know why it is so hard for us humans, created in the very image of God, to grasp the depth and breadth of God's love...and our capacity to love others. But I find comfort in the universality of the struggle. We are not alone.
What can we take away from this great disappointment? Well, if we are going to follow God's lead...maybe we could be more gentle with ourselves and others. And yes, we can try. We can see what love looks like and imitate God's ways. But when we fall short, maybe we could remember Olive Kitteridge.
When Olive suffered a heart attack, Christopher showed up. Christopher loved Olive as best he could. And I could not help but think, wasn't the same true for Olive? She did her best AND it was not always good enough.
Olive learned two things as her life progressed. She learned to ask this question of others: "What is it like to be you?" and she learned to encourage folks with this sentence, "You are doing great!" Olive did not change a lot; but she changed enough. Could this also be true for each of us?
A simple question and one word of encouragement. We could start there this week. Ask someone. See what they say. Tell me what you learn.
