Developments in a friend’s life can leave a person searching for the right sentiments. Am I supposed to be happy or sad, excited or nervous, honest or just superficial? If I know the person well, I’m as truthful as I can be which often matches his or her sentiments. When my friends hurt, I hurt and when they bounce off the walls, I’m a pinball with them.
Today I shared some exciting news with my friend Rosette from the Congo. I told her I was planning a trip to Africa next summer. She cried out with great joy and delight, but just as suddenly, her cries brought tears. I’ve only ever seen this transformation in the movies, and I think the actors were holding onions. Rosette held nothing back; she didn’t fake a countenance of pure elation. Instead, she internalized the news and what it meant to her. It meant that her home seemed even further away, only to be visited by those who could afford in every way with time, money, and the liberties of US citizenship to go across the ocean. Well, that put me in another frame of mind, praying a pipe-dream of a prayer that she could go see her home and family someday soon. With God anything is possible, but in that small apartment with laundry to fold and lunch to make, that dream didn’t seem all that realistic.
I’m grateful the Bible tells us to mourn with those who mourn and dance with those who dance. Sometimes, when I’m not in the mood I need to just act in obedience to what God asked me to do. Go alongside a person in whatever state he or she might be in at present. I seek to be genuine and honest with my emotions and responses to news, and hopefully where my sentiments fall short God will fill in the gap with his own comfort or confirmation of exaltation.
Beyond just comfort or a God-sized smile, though, I think the greatest gift is Jesus’ promise to be our peace. Both moments of sadness and joy can be coupled with fear and anxiety for what the future holds. Only through the peace of God can I faithfully step forward into the reality of new developments. His peace assures me that I have security and love in him; it’s not a peace from the world that might show happy faces but gossips behind the back. His peace assures me of my worth in his eyes and the value he holds in my friends, especially those who shout with cheer and cry all in one moment.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Friday, October 1, 2010
I'll get sick, too.
Rosette, my friend from Burundi, asked “Why do people not visit one another when they are sick? They like to say ‘Oh you are sick. I will get sick, too.’ And they stay away. It is not like that in my country.”
I paused to gather my thoughts and decide whether the honest answer would highlight a virtue of Americans or make us look as odd as my friend seemed to think we were. I clarified that the generalization that all Americans avoid sick friends might be a stretch, but that her observation was keen. I think “we, in general,” avoid the sick because
1) We’re AFRAID of getting sick.
2) We believe the only way the other person will get better is with rest, not an INTERRUPTION from a visitor.
3) We don’t like to feel HELPLESS.
All of these “reasons” are a bit irrational when analyzed deeply. Headaches and 5 day old flu aren’t usually contagious. As much as rest is beneficial, a happy heart can be an even better cure. And as humans, not just Americans, we will be helpless at some point in our lives. Typically, we like to put our best foot forward and hate seeing others or being seen by others when we’re less than our best. Therefore, it’s just easier for everyone involved to stay away until everyone is back to equal health status.
My explanation didn’t suit Rosette though. “But when we’re sick, that’s when we need others the most to be involved and be with us, not to hide.” We both agreed that assuming what the sick people need is not always the best practice since deep down a sick person will want a friend but probably doesn’t have the energy, humility or foresight to offer an invitation stating such desires.
I thought about this question a lot today. With each rerun in my head, I realized my own role in this cultural faux pax as she saw it. Even worse, I’m not exactly sure how to respond. In a situation when a person is sick for a couple days, a dash to the store for a Gatorade and get well card is easy. But a lifetime of sick also demands attention. Perhaps bedside monitoring is too much, especially for a person who just wants to sleep. But something must be done because
1) I can’t catch it.
2) Interrupting life is inevitable.
3) Feeling helpless is not helpful, but being hopeful is.
A fine balance lies in the relationship of those who are sick and those who are well. Establishing a workable balance might happen for a while, but something will tip the scales on one side or the other. The assumptions made about what maintains the balance will also keep the relationship from finding true equilibrium.
Rosette’s observation clued me into a possible cultural defect. But I believe with the right amount of effort and selflessness, it can be and is worth repairing.
I paused to gather my thoughts and decide whether the honest answer would highlight a virtue of Americans or make us look as odd as my friend seemed to think we were. I clarified that the generalization that all Americans avoid sick friends might be a stretch, but that her observation was keen. I think “we, in general,” avoid the sick because
1) We’re AFRAID of getting sick.
2) We believe the only way the other person will get better is with rest, not an INTERRUPTION from a visitor.
3) We don’t like to feel HELPLESS.
All of these “reasons” are a bit irrational when analyzed deeply. Headaches and 5 day old flu aren’t usually contagious. As much as rest is beneficial, a happy heart can be an even better cure. And as humans, not just Americans, we will be helpless at some point in our lives. Typically, we like to put our best foot forward and hate seeing others or being seen by others when we’re less than our best. Therefore, it’s just easier for everyone involved to stay away until everyone is back to equal health status.
My explanation didn’t suit Rosette though. “But when we’re sick, that’s when we need others the most to be involved and be with us, not to hide.” We both agreed that assuming what the sick people need is not always the best practice since deep down a sick person will want a friend but probably doesn’t have the energy, humility or foresight to offer an invitation stating such desires.
I thought about this question a lot today. With each rerun in my head, I realized my own role in this cultural faux pax as she saw it. Even worse, I’m not exactly sure how to respond. In a situation when a person is sick for a couple days, a dash to the store for a Gatorade and get well card is easy. But a lifetime of sick also demands attention. Perhaps bedside monitoring is too much, especially for a person who just wants to sleep. But something must be done because
1) I can’t catch it.
2) Interrupting life is inevitable.
3) Feeling helpless is not helpful, but being hopeful is.
A fine balance lies in the relationship of those who are sick and those who are well. Establishing a workable balance might happen for a while, but something will tip the scales on one side or the other. The assumptions made about what maintains the balance will also keep the relationship from finding true equilibrium.
Rosette’s observation clued me into a possible cultural defect. But I believe with the right amount of effort and selflessness, it can be and is worth repairing.
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