Whenever a person moves into the arena of transparency about what one has done or said there is a risk taken and an unanswered question, “will I be loved or will I be judged for what was shared.”  The church I knew from childhood through early adulthood communicated dutiful messages about the Christian walk. Somehow the people in this church believed that a good relationship with Christ meant that you have your life together. If you have personal problems or problems in relationship, there is something wrong in your relationship with God. The solution, pray more often, attend church frequently, have more faith and tithe.  The church believed it was theologically on target and correct in its judgement of other faiths.  The love of God communicated that Jesus cares for us. Yet dutiful christian living was promoted.  If you are dutiful (do what the bible says) life will be good. Well what if  someone messed up? Condemnation or judgement of the wrong done was the norm, followed by biblical prescription as how to right the wrong. Suffering and struggle were not accepted as something good, worthy, listened to or understood. 

Is there another way to address problems in church or in the lives of it members? There is a path of being lovingly disruptive.  Jesus was with a group of Pharisees.  Sitting with these men a prostitute came into the room.  She went to Jesus and started crying on his feet. Following her tears, she dried his feet with her hair. She poured an expensive perfume on his feet.  While this was going on Jesus realized the condemnation and disgust as these men peered toward the woman.  Jesus told these religious leaders a story about forgiveness.  When he was finished with the story he asked them who experienced more forgiveness. Their understanding and their response was accurate, then Jesus said to Simon,”…You gave me no oil for my head, but she has put perfume on my feet. That is why I tell you, Simon, that her sins, many as they are, are forgiven: for she has shown me so much love.  But the man who has little to be forgiven has only a little love to give.” Then Jesus said to her , “Your sins are forgiven…its is your faith that has saved you . Go in peace” Luke 7:36-50.

What did Jesus offer from his heart that was spoken? He offered a lovingly disruptive hope for those who understand their wrongs that bring suffering or shame. Opening up our own heart to what we have done will open up a door of forgiveness and Jesus’s love for us. Those who have many sins that are forgiven will guide them toward love, mercy, and greatfulness.

When we know and experience the forgiveness from Jesus, will we offer those who have wronged us or others with love and forgiveness that Jesus offers us?  The life that Jesus lived reveals what it means to be lovingly disruptive.

Aware of the benefits of performance, sports became an important focus in my life during and after graduating College.  The trio of basketball, softball and flag football filled the time in between work and a life of being newly married.  The skills of speed, good hand-eye coordination, and jumping ability fit well with each of these sports.  My focus, the importance of life grew from intense pursuit of excellence through practice, practice and more practice.  When it came to work, I worked hard and was well-respected by my colleagues. When it came to my marriage, I was absolutely clueless.  I didn’t understand at all what it meant to get to know and understand her. When I got angry at a situation, I would see her cry. What was I to do with her tears?  I did nothing. Sadly to say,once the tears were over, I thought our relationship was good and  life was okay.  I didn’t realize the help I needed from others.  Without realizing the direction I was headed, I pretended that my life was good and that I had a good marriage.  Never once did I ask my wife how she viewed our relationship. For the next 7 years the pretending continued,  coupled with performance and hard work. Episodic outbursts of anger and ignoring how my anger impacted the relationship continued. Unexpectedly one morning the first words spoken to me by her, “I don’t love you any more.”  I attempted to fix the relationship instead of understanding her heart and what brought her to a place of despair.  Clueless about what happened, I prayed that God would change her mind, I knew that God didn’t want us to go through a divorce. After 2 years of appeals and efforts to repair the marriage, our relationship ended in a painful divorce.

Fast forward 3 years.  One morning while journaling something unusual happened. I became very aware of the ways that I had hurt her.  For the first time in my life I cried over the unspoken hurt that she incurred through my anger and displeasure.  A few weeks later I called to talk with my daughter, her mom answered the phone. I asked if she had a moment and she did.  I told her about what I learned while journaling and the hurt I caused.  I told her that I didn’t love her very well.  She responded by saying, “I have something to tell you, I didn’t love you very well at all either.” I was surprised by her kind confession.

This was the first time in my life offering transparency about the brokenness in our relationship.  Openness and honesty about our own failings opens the door for healing in broken relationships. We want to bring hope by acknowledging what we do and say and its impact upon others.  Healthy transparency takes great courage for there is no guarantee that there will be a good response to our confession. Nonetheless take the road of hope through transparent confession. “Confess your sins to one another that you may be healed.” James 5:16 Read the Rest…

There are a myriad of purposes in each person’s heart that move us in directions of intense performance.  My own life was encumbered with doubt, a doubt leading to pursuits of driven performance. What led to this experience of doubt within my own heart. There were difficult experiences with my father. What did I do with this troubling relationship?

My own dad didn’t have a father in his life.  His own father abandoned my grandmother when dad was 7 years old. Who was in his life guiding him through his young years? Dad was fatherless.  He was doted on by his mother. He most often got what he wanted.  He was spoiled and a wildly troubled young man. As a teen he had a very fast car that allowed him to speed away from police cars. He had so many tickets the judge knew his name. While sharing his story he beamed with pride in his skill of avoiding troubles he created.  He also learned about hard work. Dad was a self-made man, who didn’t want anyone’s help .What kind of father was he?  Impatient, quick to anger, always right, blaming, hard-working, neglectful in understanding others, respected by his co-workers, nice to people who came to visit our family, and a man who drank beer to cope with internal stress.

Reflecting upon childhood, I remember well how quickly dad became angry, an anger which was accompanied by physical punishment. I desperately wanted to know dad’s love and while at the same time greatly fearing him. His anger was a consistent response to disappointments when I did something he didn’t want me to do or when I made mistakes.  By 9 years old I believed I was responsible for my dad’s anger. No one told me this, it’s what I concluded about my life in response to his outbursts. I thought that if I could be good enough, dad would not get angry with me. Being good enough never resulted in knowing his love and acceptance. Did my dad love me for who I was even when I messed up? No he didn’t, he was angry and punitive. He was good at over reacting to what didn’t really matter and minimizing what really did matter.

By the teen years my relationship with dad was encumbered by doubt.  What was this doubt? Deep within my own heart lay buried an unanswered question. Am I really loved for who I am? Consistently the answer was no. Slowly but surely I moved in directions of finding hope through performance. Performance was where I could be in charge of finding love, acceptance, and significance or so I thought. Sadly I placed the same expectation on those who I was close to, perform and don’t disappoint me. I never learned from my father about loving and accepting a person for who they are. The search for a father’s love lost hope.

After the loss of someone that I loved when 18 1/2 years old, responding to the pain in my heart, “I will never let anyone hurt me like that again,” my tears dried up. What pursuits did I embrace as a young man in response to the unresolved and buried hurt? I became enamored with the world of performance. Hard work, saving money, winning in sports, achievement academically and finding a beautiful woman were directions I headed to find something elusive to my heart and soul. My whole identity was wrapped up in outcomes, success, and finding significance through the approval of others. When facing unexpected disappointment I would respond with angry outbursts. When done with the outbursts I felt better, but those around me became more cautious. Clueless about how my anger affected the lives of others was the norm.

The pursuit of performance has its perks.  Making a great catch in the outfield to end the inning resulted in cheers and high fives. Achieving good grades became a foothold of conversation with others. Success is winning, success is being the smartest one in the class.  What I learned didn’t matter, did I get and A? The driven pursuit of performing soon became a solid foothold, or at least I thought it was, of  finding acceptance and significance. When I failed at something, working harder became the norm.  Working harder included increased hours of study, time at work and increased time on the courts or on the ball field. I lived and breathed the quagmire of performance.  What was this quagmire?

Encumbered with an unspoken doubt that any one would love me if they really knew me, became replaced with driven neediness believing, “I had to earn acceptance or find significance through my own efforts.” Trusting humans for loving and caring support were often met with intense disappointment. Not knowing how to work through disappointment in healthy ways, led to grasping for hope by being in control of my world.  For years  I was lost in performance and didn’t know it.

What happens when we are working hard and pursuing what matters to us, then some how falling short of what mattered to us?  The experience is described as failure.  What happens when we fail someone whom we love? What happens when moral failure is exposed.  How are we responded to when acknowledging our failure? How does our culture respond to those who have failed?

If you watched the NFL playoffs, the Seahawk’s experienced the wonder of a comeback taking them to the Superbowl followed by the heartache of losing the Superbowl. This story isn’t about football, its about how people and our culture respond to perceived failures. After an amazing comeback defeating the Green Bay Packers what did you hear from the sports media?  Criticism of Green Bay, what they did wrong that led to losing a game they were supposed to win. Criticism of playing like the game was over before it was over, blaming coaches for not making good decisions for the team.  Fast forward 2 weeks later, with 30 seconds left in the game Seattle is inside the one yard line with 3 plays and a time out to score with a great opportunities to take the lead and win a second Superbowl. The next play was a pass was intercepted, game over, New England wins.  The booth announcers immediately questioned the call with pronounced disbelief about the offensive play call.  The media had a field day about how poor the decision was not to run the ball. The quarter back and coach both took responsibility for what happened.  Look at some tweets, ESPN comments. The criticism and judgement of a fatefull decision that lead to losing the game rushed like water out an opened fire hydrant. Not only that, some said their play call decision will go down in sports history, others said the Seahawks will never recover from this loss.  Tired yet of the criticism?

When criticism turns in to condemning one’s failure what good is this for those who know they have failed? I contend that condemning others for their failure does nothing but to discourage the heart and soul of those at the receiving end of condemnation.

There is a story of condemnation told in John 8:1-11, concerning moral failure.  “While Jesus was teaching a crowd of people who followed him, a group of religious leaders marched a partially clad woman and sat her before Jesus.” These men spoke to Jesus what the law of Moses says, “when a woman is caught in the act of adultery she is to be stoned to death.  What do you say about this Master? The leaders asked this question to trap Jesus.”  The power of this story reflects the direction Jesus took with one who was condemned. We do not know how long Jesus was silent as he drew with his finger in the dirt. When he does look up his words are firmly and  kindly directed “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”  One by one the religious leaders walked away. “Jesus looks at the woman and asks her where her accusers have gone?… They do not condemn you neither do I, go and sin no more.”

We all fail in a variety of different ways, morally, in relationships, in loving well, of doing good, in decision making, performing well, and losing in sports events. Who are we to judge or condemn those who fail. Most people feel horrible when they fail, what is important is to encourage, support, guide and celebrate the hearts of those who fail and those who acknowledge their failure.

In a culture that highly values and rewards performance we also want to learn to value,understand, care and celebrate the hearts of those people who are discouraged in the midst of their failure.

Like what many young adults do, when their life is disrupted through broken relationships, too often a dreadful and naive decision is made.  What this decision is, will be unique and bonded to one’s story. My dreadful and naive decision, shutting down sadness and dismissing the desires of my heart.  The pain of a broken relationship became trapped in an unattended room of my heart. Ongoing disappointments stemming from years of mishandled hurt and sorrow stemming from family relationships were hidden as well. People everywhere have life experiences which are unattended and hidden.  What is hidden is hidden for a reason.  Our hearts live with disbelief that we are loved and cherished, a disbelief arises stems from the desires of our hearts are left unattended or mishandled.

Looking back, my relationship with Cheryl opened up a door to the desires of my heart.  Being enjoyed, cherished, delighted in, understood, and valued were a daily experience in our time together. These desires also reflect aspects of something I didn’t realize, what Cheryl offered my heart was something I also wanted to know from my father but never knew.  I knew my mom delighted and cared for me.  What I didn’t know yet longed to know in relationship with dad was hidden in my heart.  When my relationship with Cheryl ended, the intense hurt felt inside was losing a relationship with someone I loved and felt loved by. Overwhelmed with intense grief, not knowing what to do with the hurt, I locked the door of the pain and sorrow away in my heart. I also mishandled desires of my heart, saying theses desires “didn’t matter.”

What directions do we take in our dreadful and naive decisions? What did I do?  The paths of sarcasm, anger, dismissing the hurt of others, ignoring how my anger hurt others close to me, ways of relating that supplanted tenderness, kindness, compassion, and love. What followed, an intense pursuit of seeking significance through academic achievement and excellence in sports.  The path of finding love (not giving love) rested on who I thought would love me, or what appeared to be the path of where I could find love.  What  I completely denied for years, the brokenness of my heart and missing what it truly means to be loved and to love others well.  I really didn’t know who I was. My life pursuit was to possess something I needed (significance and love) but didn’t have.

The question that was never asked, “Who am I becoming?”  Who you and I are becoming is where hope is truly born.

Giving rise to hope opens a door to deeper desires embracing a pursuit of being known through joy and wonder in relationship.  Applying for the job that Cheryl told me about brought hope bringing us closer and eliminating the distance of a dating relationship. After applying for the job, waiting in anticipation for good news “You got the job,” would allow us to spend more time together, something we looked forward to.  We continued to talk weekly on the phone. Another trip was made and the time together was filled with wonder, joy, and adventure.  Another month went by without any news about the job.  It was December and Cheryl called.  She talked with her brother who told her the job was given to someone else.  She was discouraged and so was I.  For me there was still hope.  I had a trip planned to see her the week after Christmas.  I told her I looked forward to seeing her. I had no idea the hope of relationship was fading.

The flight was made, and Cheryl picked me up at the airport.  I stayed at her brother’s house who was gone that weekend. Cheryl told me she was busy and would have difficulty getting together with me. I made a call to her about getting together.  She avoided me.  I spent the weekend alone accompanied by a growing stress and anxiety of unknown origin.  The weekend came and was gone. The only time together with Cheryl was when she picked me up and returned me to the airport.  On the way back to the airport she told me our relationship was over, with this dreaded revelation I began to cry and couldn’t stop.  For the first time in our relationship she didn’t stay with me until it was time to board the plane. She walked away without even saying goodbye or I’m sorry.

I was alone and once again unloved or so I thought.  The pain seemed to great to bear. Coming home I hid the pain, saying nothing to anyone about the broken relationship. On my way to work, while stopped waiting for traffic, I made a dreadful and naive decision. The words spoken, “I will never let anyone hurt me like that again.”  Almost immediately the pain stopped and I felt nothing inside. I was 18, soon to be 19. This decision affected my life by repeating what was all to familiar, don’t talk about what happened, don’t think about what happened, and don’t tell anyone what you feel about what happened.

The brokenness of my heart was hidden, shut down, avoided, unspoken, buried, yet very present.  My desire to be enjoyed, cherished, loved, understood and cared for didn’t disappear.  I just told myself that these desires don’t matter.  That is what many of us do when our hope for goodness, love, and understanding fades away. What I didn’t know at that time but do know now, our brokenness matters, our desires are to be known.  God cherishes the hearts of those who are broken, captive, and lost. There is hope in the midst of despair. Sometimes it takes years to discover this hope, it is a worth while journey.

Looking back, I never told Cheryl thanks for showing me the love of God through the time we had together. She did. You know what else happened, I never realized I gave her a glimpse of God’s love for her heart in the time we had together as well.

Here’s a question for you, “How often do you experience being enjoyed and delighted in by others? Years ago, in high school, Campus Crusade for Christ had several adult staff who invested their lives helping high school kids become student leaders. After graduating high school, the staff took a group of us, during mid summer, to Arrowhead Springs, Ca for a week long leadership training.  During the break times from studies and classes, a group of guys would play aggressive games of basketball while inhaling the smoggy air.  To our surprise there were girls we didn’t know who were cheering us on. During a smog recovery break, I went over to talk  a couple of girls cheering us on. As we talked, I found out that Sheryl and Cheryl were good friends who went to the same high school about 300 miles from where I lived.  After the basketball game was over, Sheryl came up to me and said, “Cheryl likes you and wants to get your phone number.” Surprised, I said okay and walked to where Cheryl was.  We exchanged phone numbers, and departed for home two days later.

That fall I started college.  Cheryl and I also started a long distant dating relationship. About once a month I would fly or drive to where she lived.  When ever she saw me her eyes would light up accompanied with a big smile and inviting hug.  Being delighted in and enjoyed gave a rise of hope within my heart.  I delighted and enjoyed her as well.  We went on adventures together in her home town. She introduced me to her friends. We had several long talks.  After 3 months of seeing each other and weekly talks on the phone, she told me about a job opportunity in her town and would I be interested in applying for it.  I jumped on the opportunity.  She knew the director of the program and was sure that I would get the job.

For the first time in my life I began to understand what love was, and I was developing a love for this person. The hope inside, “somebody really cares about me.”  What a powerful experience for a young man who learned from his own family that you don’t talk, don’t think, and don’t feel.  I felt free to be me in this relationship, I didn’t worry about impressing her.  Hope in relationship grows between two people when moments of being delighted in, enjoyed, loved, listened to, understood take place and/or when you know someone cares about who you are. Prov. 13:12 says, “… a fulfilled desire is a tree of life.”  No doubt, this new relationship felt like a tree of life.  This relationship brought hope that I’d never know before.  Somebody truly loves me for who I am.  What I didn’t see is that through her life God was giving me a glimpse of the love He has for my heart.

Over the years, I have learned that I don’t deal very well with disappointment. To often I will blame myself for what happened, withdraw, wonder what is wrong with me, or even experience anxiety.  How does disappointment become such a burden to bear at times?  Many people, sadly, grew up in abusive alcoholic home like the one I learned from.  My dad was a hard working man who provided for our family. When at home he expected life to flow the way he wanted it to be. Each night he slowly unwound drinking beer after beer eventually falling asleep on the couch.  Ever lived in a family with four boys? What level of quiet would you anticipate in the home? It didn’t take long to disrupt dad’s slumber. What was his response: anger, threats and rage.  There were times he was so angry he would leave the house for 2 to 3 hours not telling us where he went. Coming home, he was calm while everyone in the house was stressed.  Heard of the elephant in the room that no one talks about?  That was our household reality.

As I have learned from my own family and those who I’ve seen over the years, there is a travesty of what children in alcoholic and abusive homes go through. No one takes an interest in the emotional welfare of the child. No one is there to listen and understand a child’s voice.  A child is left to cope with disappointment and pain on their own.  Often a child believes they are on their own, they don’t feel safe, or loved. Often a child may end up care taking their parent.  Fast forward 35 years.  The child who grows up to be an adult doesn’t have good coping skills because they were never taught good coping skills by their parents.

Many adults carry on in their homes what they learned from an alcoholic family, don’t talk about what took place, don’t think about what happened, and don’t feel the pain of not being loved. There is hope and that hope is a paradox that contradicts what we’ve learned. What direction should we take? Share your hurts with someone who cares. Express fears and doubts with those who value what you say. Talk about what happened, develop trusting relationships where you can be vulnerable with others who show you grace, compassion, and understanding. Feel the hidden pain of not being loved, voicing your brokenness about painful past issues is risky business. We need others who care for us be it a friend, spouse, pastor or counselor.  If we don’t take risks in letting others know about our lives we will never know that there are those who truly care about us. My greatest hope grows from risking in relationship by telling others about my brokenness and struggles. I have come to know friendship and compassion through these relationships.

Look at the life of Jesus, how he was with those who were cast out, shamed, alone, guilty.  People risked coming to Jesus with experiences of fear and uncertainty.  In their encounter with Jesus he loved and cared for them in ways that brought hope into their lives. Hope will grow when we risk vulnerability in relationship with others.  If you have any questions about what has been shared, contact me.  

Sam’s mom was in the kitchen doing what she would typically do for the whole family. Preparing something yummy on this occasion chocolate cake. After entering into the kitchen, Sam asked his mom if she wanted some help. Her invitation was needing help cracking an egg. Handing the egg to Sam she told him what to do. As Sam cracked the egg it fell onto the floor. His mom graciously gave him another egg and in the second attempt Sam was able to crack the egg into the mixing bowl. While mom mixed the cake, Sam cleaned the mess on the floor with joy. As an adult looking back on this experience Sam spoke about his interest in cooking growing from what his mom taught him. Never once did he ever sense any condemnation, he was free to make a mistake and learn from it. Cooking was an affirming experience growing from the kindness of mom’s heart. We can see in this brief picture the power and goodness of compassionate love taking place through kindness and patience.

Whenever Sam disappointed his dad all that Sam really new was his dad’s anger and physical punishment. Sam’s dad was not kind, nor was he patient. Instead Sam’s dad was demanding and punitive in ways that laid a foundation of stressful expectation, “Don’t you dare disappointment me.”  Sam said he grew up living a life where he never allow himself a freedom to fail.  Whenever he did fail, Sam said, “I hid my failures from others with great fear of how others would respond to his mistakes.” Sam turned into a turtle when faced with criticism.  He hid inside a protective shell where no one could hurt him.  Sam went on to say, ” I never let anyone really get to know me out of a fear that if someone really knew me they would not care for or love me.”

Kindness caries great power for good. A person’s heart is encouraged through caring diligence in times of disappointment. Allowing a person the freedom to fail and to learn from their failures takes a child down a road of confidence.  Fight for what is good!