But I kind of always found myself wondering why they were calling me for input on certain areas in which I felt less than qualified to give feedback on. Like, for instance, relationship advice; after all, not to be Captain Obvious or anything, but I'm single, and both of the only two serious relationships I've ever been in are laying way out on the battlefield, far beyond the sometimes salvageable ditch other people's may land in. Mine are thoroughly mangled, unrecognizable from their better days, covered in hurt, betrayal, misunderstanding, lack of effort, Godlessness, distrust, stubbornness, unforgiveness, and simple differences that were allowed to drive wedges between us. But maybe, just maybe, what makes me qualified to toss my 2-cents into the pot is that from where I stand now, I can clearly see the path that my now derailed relationships took before they spiraled beyond the point of return. I can see the many points of acceleration and turbulence, and I can remember vividly specific situations in which I could have chosen my behavior or my reaction differently, to even the seemingly smallest of subjects, and it would have made a world of difference. I remember letting the sun set on hurt feelings and cold shoulders. I remember planning snide comments just to make what I thought at the time was a necessary point. I remember looking the other way when the lights of a speeding train and an imminent derailment were shinning right in my face. I regret telling myself I didn't care. I regret letting pride and fear and helplessness dictate my actions when I knew what was right, but chose not to demand it of myself. I know now that ignorance is not bliss. Voluntary ignorance is weakness; it's exacerbating the signs and symptoms of an underlying problem because the disease process is being allowed to flourish unaccepted, unchallenged, and untreated.
I have been single more than not in the last 8 years since my divorce. When my friends call me for advice now I jump at the chance to tell them what I wish I would have told myself if I wasn't me back then. Back when I would sit with my girlfriends or my mom and jokingly say, "Here, take my advice, I'm not using it." It was good advise, too, if I do say so myself. Stuff like forgive, let it go, don't hold grudge. Although those probably sound like pretty elementary type advice in the world of relationships, it's the elementary stuff that causes the most damage sometimes. Sure, almost anyone can identify drug addiction, abuse, infidelity and any of those other giant boulders, that if set down in the midst of a relationship would almost surely cause instantaneous self-destruct. But it's those little tiny pebbles that you let lie on the track and when your relationship rolls over it it causes a slight jostle. A small jostle maybe in and of itself, barely noticeable, but soon when it combines with another jostle, maybe from a slightly larger pebble, maybe within a short distance of each other, you'll wonder why the traction of your relationship on the path of success is not as secure. It'll seem like it came out of the blue but when you look back you'll be able to see those small miniscule tilts and then you'll remember, and regret, putting that tiny pebble on the track.
Now, I'm not saying in my relationships that I could have solely been responsible for saving them, nor that I was solely responsible for running them into the ditch, through the ditch, and then right on out into the field farther than necessary. I am just saying I wish I would have held myself to a higher standard, so that fail or not I knew I had done the right thing. I knew I had loved and served and humbled myself like Jesus tells us to. I knew that I had practiced patience and gentleness; that I spoke in kindness and showed self-control when I was hurting; that I always strived to be a source of joy and hope and unconditional love.
If and when I am in a relationship again, I will never be able to say to someone, "Here, take my advice, I'm not using it." Cause I will use it this time. I will share it too, of course. But at least this time, my advice will have been tried and true, and NOT based on experiencing what doesn't work.
Sometimes I hear friends/family talk about their relationships and I watch them place pebbles on their tracks. I pray for them, that they would feel led to remove it as quickly as they put it there. I don't sit around wishing I had someone here, but I do notice the loneliness on the occasion when things slow down long enough. And I would say this to anyone reading this who is dealing with a relationship pebble right now: Throw it out! Chuck it into the ditch. If you need to talk about it first, talk about it. If you need your other half to acknowledge your feelings before you can get rid of them, then express your feelings. Just remember though, expressing your feelings does not require the receiver to agree or to fix it, it just means you don't own those anymore. Those feelings are not yours to pack around and allow to fester and grow and turn into a pebble that you willingly place in your way. Because, in the words of Sid, it's not fun being a lone, lonely, loner cause that's a lot of alone! And what's worse than that is the feeling of responsibility if there ever comes a day when you have to look back and you see pebbles with your fingerprints all over them...
No comments:
Post a Comment