Tri-Polar Exchange (Outside Looking In)

"But what if I don't WANT to feel sadness?
What if I only want to feel good things?
Don't I get some kind of guarantee in life
Because I say I
Follow You?
Don't I get a free pass
To happiness,
Because
'Jesus paid it all?'
Aren't I entitled?!?"
"Who told us we'd be rescued?
What has changed, and
Why should we be saved
From nightmares?"
The spoiled brat
And the woman with the wisdom
Of painful experience
Who both reside in my brain
Are arguing
And I feel caught
In the middle of this
Tri-polar
Exchange...
We are so
Insulated
That we feel any trial in life
Is a punishment
For "that other person's sin,"
Until it happens to us,
Then it's a "tribulation"
That's a teachable moment.
Really?!?
We turn down our noses at the brother
Or sister
Who grieves,
Who mourns,
Who doesn't paste on their pretty smile
On Sunday,
And we think to ourselves,
"Well, they just need more Jesus..."
As we pass them by...
"FINE, then, just leave me alone!!!
I'm fine ALL BY MYSELF!"
(Stomp, stomp for punctuation)
Sadness is not a punishment...
Loss is not a judgment...
There is no guilt in grieving.
There is also
Little mercy for mourning,
As we expect our people
To pick up as quickly as we think we would,
And get back to "normal"
As soon as possible...
It's uncomfortable to see their
Tears...
So we tell them things like
"It's all for the best."
"God has a plan for you that's just not what you expected."
"He is in control."
We should let them cry...
Let them weep...
Let them mourn...
And let them know we are here
In
Silence.
But we are generally not very good at
Keeping our mouths shut.
(I would know.)
Trust me...
There is nothing you could say that would
Make it go away...
That would
Make it "better."
I'm not 5 years old, and this is not
An "owie"
That can be cured with a kiss.
These wounds are deep,
And they occasionally fester up
And remind me that
I am not
Whole (There are pieces missing).
People who have walked this walk understand.
People who have not, do not,
And sometimes, it's hard to forgive
The "pithy" words that fall out of their mouths.
(I've been guilty of that one a few times.)
The spoiled brat
Is angry
That she didn't get her way...
That she doesn't have her
Picket fence
That she feels she should have...
That she thinks she's earned (though she's hardly put in her time).
She thinks she is due for her
Reward
Right
Now.
The woman with wisdom
Who occasionally looks me back in the mirror
Smacks me in the head and reminds me
There are no guarantees
Of an easy life;
In fact, there are only
Guarantees of
Fires
And of a
Savior Who walks you through them so closely,
You don't even smell like smoke
When you come through to the
Other Side.
The brat and the adult
Who battle within
Challenge the sadness:
Let it engulf?
Let it swamp over me?
Go hide in the blankets?
Or
Acknowledge it...
Acknowledge the reason...
Tell Him all about it...
And keep on walking?
When we ask for His will,
Do we mean it?
Are we asking for His will,
Thinking it will work out for our
Advantage,
Or are we asking for His will
Because we put our
Trust in Him
For the mountains and palm trees,
AND
For the valleys and deserts?
I listen to myself,
To the argument within,
And I know I'm not alone,
Because you have the
Same
Argument
Too.
There is what we have earned,
And what we deserve
But what He gives
Is a grace
We can neither deserve
Or earn
And it is more than enough
To bandage
The cuts, scrapes, bruises
Bruised egos
Entitled hearts
Angry hearts
Broken spirits
Shattered dreams
And grieving souls.
It is a grace that enables
That woman with wisdom
To lay down the pain
And silence the spoiled brat
Without spewing the
Frustrations that
Lay just below the surface.
It will be okay,
And there will be another
Victory
But it will require
Some time in the
Garden
Alone...