Of all the posts I've written in regards to the six lessons I've learned (Find it here), this is probably both the hardest and easiest one to write. Hard, because I've learned that good intentions can often be the most painful, and easy because I know that it's something we've all wrestled through to some degree or another.
One of my early coping mechanisms (though I wouldn't have called it that at the time) after the fire was just really dark humor. I'd joke about how I would burn things down, I'd mention “at least you didn't burn your house down...” after a number of other comments, and other jokes that brought temporary relief. As I look back, they were probably more cries for help, saying, “I'm not ok, please engage.” Some did. Others joked back, and I quickly realized that I wasn't ok with that.
A similar experience was when I was overweight. I felt comfortable joking about being fat, but I never appreciated it when someone joined in the joke. Yet, people would see it as an invitation, not a cry for help.
When that happens, it's incredibly easy to villianize people.
“How could they do that? How could they say those hurtful things? They just don't get me. They don't understand. They don't want to understand.”
The problem is, when you're on the other side of the coin, it's hard to know where to start. It's a common issue this side of glory, and one that shouldn't be surprising. Ever since Genesis 11, where God confuses the speech of the peoples, there has been misunderstanding and language barriers, and the language barrier happens even when two people speak the same language. I tell a joke, the person who wants to genuinely help thinks, “Oh, he wants humor, that's what I will give him!” Suddenly, it falls flat, with both parties thinking, “What exactly went wrong here?”
Even Jesus, the greatest communicator, was easily misunderstood.
“From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” (Matthew 16: 21-23)
Jesus was telling them the truth; life-giving news that he had to suffer and die, so that He could be raised from the dead and defeat sin and death forever. But Peter responded poorly. He told God Himself that he was wrong. He fed Jesus one of the most deceptive temptations, one in which Jesus could win the world without suffering. It's so severe, that Jesus calls Peter “Satan”. This is friendly fire from one of the most influential men of human history. Peter, the rock of the church, and Jesus calls him Satan, because he wants to care for Jesus, yet he misunderstands Him and His purposes.
Now we don't know if Jesus was personally offended, but that doesn't matter. What matters is Jesus' posture towards Peter afterwards. He forgives and He entrusts. Peter's mistake doesn't alienate him, but Jesus calls out the mistake, and draws near. What a response of grace! And this is what Jesus does throughout his entire ministry. He's misunderstood, He endures fire both from foes and friends, and He willingly takes it on, and operates with a posture of forgiveness.
What does that teach us?
1. Believe that it's okay to be misunderstood – Many of us (myself included) can view the greatest sin is to not be understood. However, marriage has quickly dashed the illusion that I should be perfectly understood all the time. We must remember that, even when we are suffering, we will be misunderstood. More importantly, we must remember that we have a Savior who understands, because He has been misunderstood by everyone. Including you. (For reference, John 18, the trial of Jesus, is another great example of when Jesus is misunderstood, and it's to the point of his death.)
2. Keep short accounts – Recently, a friend had said a comment that he meant for good, but I took it as offensive. When I couldn't move past it, I brought it up to him. He was gracious, and responded kindly, and our friendship grew because of it.
One note, when you are in deep suffering, the temptation is to expect all people to know how to care for you. While we need to grow and be sensitive to where people are at, we must remember that all people are finite in their capacity and understanding.
3. Be honest – When you are hurting, you need to share and speak openly. First, we must do this with Christ. A good friend of mine reminded me that Psalm 88 is hopeful, not because of its content (it ends by saying “darkness is my closest friend”), but because the psalmist is crying out to the Lord. Second, find a friend or two who you can really trust, and you are willing to fight with. People who you can share deeply your most raw emotions and frustrations (including your struggles with how you've been treated), as well as people who you can fight with and forgive when they don't understand.
4. Tell people how they can help you – A friend of mine recently told me how a comment I made wasn't helpful, and they were longing to be affirmed instead. This completely changed how I thought to care for this person! Good friends want to know how to better care for you.
5. Remember, not everyone is meant to help you through this specific season – There are some people that I've stayed away from during this season. That's not because I don't love them, nor will I avoid them forever. But without humility and grace on both sides, sometimes space is what is needed. And that's ok. Not everyone needed to know how I was struggling with things. Jesus all ready knows. And He will provide exactly who you need to help walk alongside you.