Words for Winter's Lingering

With a presumption that 'it's probably just me', I've been doing a bit of light research on the effects of this time of year on our general relational health.

Sweet flowers from a friend that included a card with life-giving words.

I'm not talking about mental health, although that definitely factors in.  I'm not talking about physical health, although the winter virus thing certainly factors in.  My focus, my sense of it, is on how this time of year seems to foster no end of minor to significant relational agitation, specifically and simply because of how we are talking to each other.  

It's like we're all just that much more grumpy, and that 'grumpy' mostly comes out of our mouths.

Here I risk minimizing what concerns me, simply by using a word like 'grumpy'.  That seems to imply that a good night's rest or a good meal might solve the problem.  And often that's a good place to start, sure.  If we can do a little self care and come back to the conversation open and generous, sure.

But what if the Seasonal Affective Disorder we're all experiencing by March, is poking holes in our love and decency, exposing some hurts and hostilities that spill out in some truly unhelpful ways of communicating?

It might be one explanation for what's bothering me of late; this seeming increase in sharp words, sarcasm, cynicism, often under the pretense of humour.  Humour that insults, tears down, and is pointedly aimed at an individual.  Bantering that starts out maybe okay, but ends in increasingly embarrassing, personal digs.

Call me sensitive, that's fine.  You wouldn't be the first, and that's why I started this with 'it's probably just me'.  But it's also why I did a bit of light research.

Just Google 'the psychology of sarcasm' and read a few (reliably-sourced, peer-reviewed) articles and see if I'm overstating things.  Look up the affects of different kinds of 'humour' on relationships.  Get a few definitions.  Maybe even ask the people around you how you're coming across.  Ask if they feel safe.

Perhaps you'll still tell me to lighten up.  And if you say so in ways that are safe and healthy for me to hear, I'll take it into consideration.  For sure I will.

And if it is indeed 'just me', then I'll press deeper into my own commitment to watch my words.  Even in the words used in this blog post, or anywhere, I truly hope to convey humility and grace and a desire for peace.  

But I won't always, I know this.  And surely as I post this, if you're interacting with me in some form in the next few days or weeks, you'll see me slip.  I'm earnest but not perfect.  So I'll watch myself, and invite you to watch with me.

Here Paul inspires me:

 "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone." Colossians 4:6

"Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen."  Ephesians 4:29

And oh, the Bible is full of loving instruction as to how we might love with our words.

Oh friends.  Thank you for all the times you have honoured me with your honesty.  Thank you for all the positive words of love and encouragement and grace you have spoken into my life.  Thank you for allowing me insights into myself with your differing perspectives.  Thank you for helping me to lighten up with I genuinely need to.

May we all walk winter's last weeks with wisdom.

We need each other so much.

Making Deeper Spaces for Love

Above all, love one another deeply, 

because love covers over a multitude of sins. 

1 Peter 4:8

To begin with, this photo is not doctored.

I know there's a lot you can do these days, with the right kind of programs on the right kind of computer, to make something look like whatever you want.  But that's not this.  I don't even know how to do that.

This is just what happened one evening down by the dock when I was in the midst of some earnest prayer asking for direction.  Not kidding.

A heart from heaven.

Love it when that happens.  (Wait for this in a second.)

Mostly though, my spiritual journey is not like that.

Love is not like that.  

Not so obvious and unusual and spread all across the sky and bordering on miraculous, 

like that.

Not mostly anyways.

Mostly, my spiritual journey, particularly into what it means to love like Jesus, has consisted of every day stuff, regular stuff, sometimes tedious stuff.  

Sometimes painful stuff.  

Like really painful stuff.  

And if you want the truth, it's not the wow stuff in the sky, or the little stuff in the grass that actually love-shapes me.                                                                                                                                                                

Don't get me wrong.  I 'love' it when that happens.  (See what I did there?)  Makes for good pictures and interesting Facebook posts.  Often as not it does provide a sweet reminder that God is fully present in the moment, that I am the object of Divine attention.  

Yes, I get that.  

But it's not what carves out the deeper spaces of love in me.  

The deeper spaces of love come from the every day stuff.  The regular stuff.  The stuff that's sometimes tedious and sometimes painful.  Really painful.

Because it's digging deeper, helping me find out what I'm made of what God is making of me.

"Love one another deeply," Peter says.

"Above all," he says.

Because.

Because why?  

Because there's a lot in me (and a lot in others) that wants to squeeze love out.

Sin, Peter calls it, like the good Bible word it is.

I know the word has been given a bad rap by folks throughout the centuries who have wanted to stamp it on a lot of external behaviours that, oh in a decade or so, are all of a sudden not considered so.  Like when my childhood pastor's wife said one Mother's Day message, "I was so glad when God finally said it was okay to wear make up."  Maybe growing up you had a list imposed upon you.  (Maybe, if we're honest, we have our own lists we impose on others, who knows?)

For right here and right now, just staying with Peter here for a moment, I'll just say that sin is clearly not-love.

So anything not done for love, especially not done for the two great loves Jesus talked about, Love God, Love people, (Matthew 22:37-40) - that's sin.  (I may get in trouble here for not hammering down on this more, but for now I'll leave it at that.)

Love.

Love that covers over a multitude of not-loves.

Wow.

So love one another - deeply.

Cover all those not-loves with love.

Deeply.

But do we?

Yes, I know we each have our relational circles.  

The people we are closest to.  

The ones who get most of our love, and rightly so.

But is there space for more love?

Broader love?

Wider circles of love?

Deeper spaces of love?

Or. 

What if we are all filled up with

fear

resentment

opinions

judgements

protectionism

perfectionism

ambition

competition

greed

worry

sexism

racism

oh and let's just ad

me-ism (or its more common name, selfishness)?

(Maybe we could call some of that sin?  You pick which ones.)

What if?

What then?

Where are the deeper spaces left for love then, if we're all jumbled up and filled up with the not-loves?

Love deeply.

I can't seem to get away from this.

It makes me reckless, actually.

To love deeply is to take risks.

Loving people who won't love you back.

Loving people who won't understand.

Loving people who won't recognize it.

Loving people who won't value your love.

Loving people who don't deserve it.

Loving people who barely have any capacity for love themselves,

and it makes them all pinchy.

Love like you won't get hurt, but you do.

To give yourself away....it's not safe.

It's not safe.

But we love.

Deeply.

If we can make room for it.

Spirit of the Living God, the God Who IS Love,

keep carving out the spaces in my heart.

Please come in and carve out the not-loves

so there's room for You and Your LOVE.

And if You want to do one of those things,

where You step in with the clouds or the forgetmenots

I'll love that too.

But please,

don't stop Your real work in me.

Carve away.

I trust You.