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.

Of Friendships, Blunders, and Tending to Wounds

Pondering much on human connections these days.

Two reasons.  One is that I'm preparing for a three week series to be preached at Highview on the essential nature of our relationships with one another as a means by which God, by His grace and to our astonishment, completes His love and shows the world He means it.

1 John 4:12 - No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. 

Yeah, I know.  Scares me too.

The other reason is that, let's face it, during these crazy COVID times, our relationships have taken a pretty harsh beating.  Try thinking of one human connection in your life that has not in some way been negatively affected by physical distancing, isolation, lockdowns, travel bans, abstinence from hugs, and difference of opinions and practice in how to navigate all this.  Me neither.  Can't think of one.  And that's not even counting any who have experienced the tragic loss of a loved one.  Devastating.  Shattering.  Our relational worlds have been severely shaken.

And then, just generally, we're all a bit more on edge.  Or is that just me?  Some of what I've experienced over the past while in terms of relational dissonance is largely due, if I'm honest, to me being overly sensitive, tired and anxious.  And on the other side of it, I am having to write more 'clarifying' emails, make apologies and set up coffee times to sort something out than 'normal'.  (Remember 'normal'?  Me neither.)

Earlier this morning I was composing just such an email, in response to someone's reaction to words I had used in a previous email to them.  They were right.  I had been insensitive and exclusive in my choice of words.  Entirely NOT my intention, but re-reading them in the light of their perspective, there it was.  So I offer my sincere apologies and suggest we get together over a cup of tea to help make things right.

Tending to the wounds of our blunders.

That's where I'm going with this.

As I am formulating my email response, I hear in my head the tune and lyrics of a song by Steve Bell, Canadian artist and musician, and a sage to many.  The song is called Good Friend and is based on a poem by Richard William called Mayflies.

The chorus is brilliant in its simple advice for good living overall.

Be but your own good friend, and be good to the other/Cherish those sisters and brothers along the road/And to the earth extend every reverence and wonder./Tend to the wounds of your blunders/And honour God who formed our home.

So I was doing some of that tending this morning, and glad for the honesty of the friend who would bring it to my attention with grace and humility.  

Oh friends, we need each other so much.  Especially now.  Let's hold on to all that is so delicate and precious between us.  Let's tend to the wounds, reach out in support, ask for help, listen with grace, lay down our need to be right.

We've lost enough.  

Let's not lose each other.