A Piece of My Heart...

Today I met with my new friend Kim(berly?) at lunch. She is a person who "gets it". Although we both struggle with different situations from different places we continue to share many things in common. We both know what it feels like to be judged without being understood or known...to struggle...and to have hopes crushed. We also know what it feels like to reach out and share a little of ourselves with someone only to have it discarded and rejected. Why is it that people can sometimes respond so thoughtlessly? Do they realize it when they do it? I really hope they do not. But then I'm reminded of Christ and what He went through. No one really "got it" when He was trying to prepare them for what was soon to happen. He asked for support from his disciples as He prayed but they couldn't even support Him long enough to stay awake. He felt such heavy emotion that He sweat drops of blood. Yet did anyone come along side Him? Where was everyone during His time of need? When He faced accusations and abuse...He was met with denial. From His enemy? No...His disciple and friend. When He was nailed to the cross He recieved mockery and accusations. Should we really be so suprised when people let us down too?

But we are. We expect better. Especially from other Christians. Surely they will always "get it" right? Unfortunately no. The sad part is the same can be said of each one of us. Including me. There are times I have not "gotten it". There are times I will not "get it". Why? Because I'm human. We're human. We fail, we are sometimes blind, we can sometimes fail to see what is clearly right in front of us. Just like the people who waited for their King when He was walking right in their midst. Who is walking in our midst each day that we aren't really taking the time to notice? Is God trying to get our attention and we fail to listen? Who is in pain right in front of us that we fail to see? When we are asked to come along side someone during their times of need...do we offer lip service and then fall asleep on the job?

May God lift the scales from my eyes and help me to see with His. Help me to see what is in front of me. To guide me in my response and replace my human touch with His own.
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I’ve tried to put into words how it feels for someone who has an anxiety disorder to have to share with another their personal struggles. I hope some of it has been captured below:

For me to share with you my personal struggles is like taking a piece of my heart and placing it in your hands temporarily. How you react to it and what you do with it in these moments will impact me when you give it back.

Will you disregard it as if you hold something of no value? This can be done by disregarding my words to you, my struggles, and experiences. By thinking it’s all in my head or no big deal. An over-reaction. Belittling me and my struggles or mistreating me like a little child. You don’t respect me, my feelings, what I say. You return part of my heart a little harder and a little less efficient. It’s put back in place like a brick into a wall. Hardened.

Will you laugh at it and toss it around as if what you hold were not fragile? This can be done with words crudely designed as jokes and teasing about my struggles. The words you say to me and also to others – they get back. I hear them. The information was for you alone and was not to be carelessly played with and handled with disregard. You don’t honor me. You return part of my heart broken. I glue it back into place but still can feel its cracks. I’m afraid to remove it again.

Will you take it and try to fix it yourself? Tell me what you would do or do differently? Push and pull me with your own rigid ideas of anxiety CPR? Will you try to force it into a cookie cutter mold so you can show others what “you made”? Do you look down on me and think your better? Do you think of me as less of a person? You forget its part of me and I have a say in what is done. I asked you to share with me, not perform open-heart surgery without consent. You return the piece of my heart drained and misshapen. It’s put in place and locked in for safe-keeping.

Will you take it and not know what to do with it so out of uneasiness quickly toss it back? I share but you say nothing at all, pretend it didn’t happen, and avoid wanting to touch it again as if it were dirty or infectious. Will you look at me now with pity (or fear?) or go the other way because you don’t understand and yet – you don’t want to know? You return a piece of my heart torn. I put it back in place but it hurts. I don’t want anyone else to touch it and make it worse. I tuck it safely away.

Will you take it and handle it with care? Honored you were trusted enough that I would try and share with you? Will you accept me as I am now but be supportive of what I want to become tomorrow? Listen and encourage me towards what I can do to accomplish short and long term goals? Become the best I can be? Will you be honest with me but always with love? You return a piece of my heart overflowing that when I place it back in its spot there is no choice but for it to reach into other parts and slowly trickle life back into them. You help to heal me, encourage me to become whole, and the best I can be.