Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Sharing Kindness

Over the past several months, I've done quite a bit of introspective thinking.  As some of you know, I've struggled with depression in very recent years.  It is a deep, cavernous black hole that fully envelops your entire being and chokes the life out of you...literally.  I'm not sure why some people fall victim and others don't...from what I can tell, depression is very indiscriminate in choosing its prey.  Unfortunately, it seems like one of the enemy's favorite methods of attack in my life; even when I'm doing well, I must be mindful not to allow negativity and bitterness to wrap their wicked fists around my heart and drag me back into the abyss. I suppose that my weakness is an eagerness to please.  I want to be liked.  I need to feel needed.  I like to have purpose.  I crave acceptance and approval.  I fear failure and rejection.  I am terrified of disorder and loss of control.  Sometimes I forget Whose I am and who He says I am, and I let those fears and the aching of my heart overwhelm me.

Over the past year, my husband has been my rock.  Whether he knows it or not, I have appreciated and loved him so much during all of my trials because he has never faltered in his love and endurance.  I've taken him through pain he didn't deserve, and yet he loves me.  I am so grateful.  One thing in particular that he has reiterated over and over in his words and actions in my life has been God's command to love one another.  Without conditions.  Without any expectation of praise or return on our investment.  Just love one another, period.

At the beginning of the summer, I committed to turning around my relationship with my little boy.  He is quite like me, yet totally himself.  His extremely strong will promises to serve him well as an adult someday, but it is not my favorite quality in any child, especially one for whom I'm responsible.  He is brilliant, and therefore never accepts any simple answer; he will inundate me with deep, complicated questions until he is satisfied that he fully understands a matter.  He marches to the beat of his own drummer, and I am sometimes mortified by his unique ways of expressing himself...why can't he just blend in sometimes?!  But God has been teaching me to slow down and appreciate Wyatt for who he truly is and to stop expecting him to be anything other than that.  To lower my expectations of his behavior to the 7-year-old-boy level instead of the highest forms of behavior I've seen in him periodically.  To recognize in him what frustrations and fears are causing him anxiety and help him to overcome those feelings rather than suppress them.

One of the ways God has shown me to help Wyatt has been to do some little kind something for him every day.  Some little gesture that shows him I love him.  It could be as simple as reaching back to squeeze his leg while we're driving.  Snuggling up on the couch and laughing at his favorite cartoons together.  Sitting down to make a mess with our art supplies at the kitchen table.  Letting him help prepare a meal.  Little things that, at the end of the day, add up to big feelings.  Feelings of love and appreciation and acceptance and approval.

Not to say I haven't had my missteps along the way, but overall, I've begun to reshape my attitude towards this beautiful, perfect little gift from God.  Instead of feeling forever inconvenienced and burdened, I feel blessed.  Blessed to see how incredibly wonderful this child is, and how insanely trusting God is of me to raise him.  Now, instead of seeing a behavior I don't like, I'm beginning to recognize a fear or insecurity or anxiety that is calling out for help in him.  Just like me.  Just. Like. Me.

As a result of changing my mindset and softening my heart, I've started to realize how broken so many of us are in our own small, private ways.  Perhaps our hurts seem too insignificant to share, so we just keep them inside, filing them away in the "put on your big girl panties" drawer.  We just keep cramming and shoving our brokenness into every nook and cranny until there's no more room, and the pieces begin to seep out into our lives.  We withdraw, we lash out, we harshly judge.  We forget to love one another.  And we forget how to be loved.

I've resolved to make every single day that God has given me breath into an opportunity to love.  To love every single human being I see.  Every day.  Every one of them.  This isn't complicated.  Lift someone up in prayer.  Smile a genuine, friendly smile at a passerby.  Sincerely compliment someone.  Let someone else go first.  Help someone with a tedious task.  Pay for someone's lunch.  Hold a door for someone.  Put quarters into the toy machines at the store.  Just listen to someone who needs to talk. Tip your server a little more generously than necessary.  Take someone a meal.  Write a sweet little note and slip it into the mail. The possibilities are endless, and if you keep your eyes open, they're obvious.  You just have to be looking.  And you have to be willing to follow through.

I invite you all to join me in this endeavor.  Together, we can all make a big difference with small gestures.  We'll remind one another that we're not alone on this journey called life.  Let's all be looking for ways to love one another.  I know that by doing so, we'll all be blessed.  And you truly never know who needs those random acts of kindness.  What seems like a small, unimportant thing to you might be the only bright light in someone else's darkness, and that one tiny thing could save a life.

1 comment:

  1. Such a sweet thought provoking post. As you described your husband I was reminded of Scripture telling us that husbands are to love their wives as Christ did the Church, dying for you shared about Wyatt I was reminded that I want for me children to know the joy and beauty of being part of the symphony but unafraid to play the occasional solo that He has written for them. I read your words of encouragement and remembered that we are to stir one another up to good works and I am grateful for your obedience to do so.


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