The healing wisdom, wonder and sincerity of Mister Fred Rogers

Whenever I’m feeling I’m losing my way in the pursuit of kindness, Mister Fred Rogers (1928 – 2003) is one mentor I turn to.  Here are a few Mister Rogers’ quotes and some of my own reflections about what they mean to me in terms of sharing the best of a common humanity.

“When I say it’s you I like, I’m talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch.  That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive.  Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.”

This is that eternal nature in all of us that cannot be threatened because it cannot be harmed.  Yet so many are threatened because they have been harmed.  Imagine living on earth as it were heaven.

When someone like Mister Rogers says, “It’s you I like,” we find ourselves feeling valued, appreciated, respected, worthy.  Just for a moment like that it’s as if everything with the world is good.  We’re called into such life, to live it and, wherever we can, to provide it.

“Part of the problem with the word ‘disabilities’ is that it immediately suggests an inability to see or hear or walk or do other things that many of us take for granted.  But what of people who can’t feel?  Or talk about their feelings?  Or manage their feelings in constructive ways? What of people who aren’t able to form close and strong relationships?  And people who cannot find fulfillment in their lives, or those who have lost hope, who live in disappointment and bitterness and find in life no joy, no love?  These, it seems to me, are the real disabilities.”

Astonishingly sobering.  To read this quote honestly is to understand we all have disabilities.  Years ago, when I was dependent on alcohol, I replaced the need to feel by getting regularly inebriated.  When I became sober, I had to learn how to feel all those emotions we’d rather avoid or deny.

Some disabilities we can’t overcome, but the disabilities stated above — many of them, and many people who are afflicted — can be overcome.  We can all process disappointment, bitterness, betrayal, despair, hopelessness.  We can learn the empowerment of feeling to overcome all these.  We can all learn to accept there is injustice in this life.

“Love isn’t a state of perfect caring.  It is an active noun like struggle.  To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.” 

Another very personal challenge.  Imagine coming face-to-face with a person we don’t get along with, or someone with which we’ve got ‘history’ with — facing our baggage — and experiencing the momentary will to be kind and gracious with them and empathise.

In context with the above quote, we can only do this when we see them as they truly are — fallible no matter how much power they seem to wield.  It’s easy to love the lovely.  There is a time for us all to accept the unlovely just the way they are.

This doesn’t mean we allow ourselves to be vulnerable enough to be hurt, for we need to protect the untrustworthy person from themselves where we know them and where we can, but it is looking at them with the desire for what’s truly best for them.

We may naturally desire people would love us right here and now, but the point of this quote is it starts from us.  When we start doing it, OUR hearts are being changed, WE are being blessed.

“Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable.  When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary.  The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone.” 

Those who won’t or can’t do this never receive the healing they could otherwise have.

So much capacity for life is available when we’re simply courageous enough to be real.

It’s not rocket science, but it does require us to face those parts of us we’d prefer didn’t exist.  The truth is these parts of us exist to liberate us to true and compelling eternal life.

“Anyone who does anything to help a child in his life is a hero to me.”

“The least of these,” as Jesus said, are who the Kingdom of God belong to.

There’s no better way to ‘bless God’ than keeping the genuinely powerless person safe — to look out for them, harming nobody else as a result.

We live in a world that places people other than those who care like this on a pedestal, but the truly admirable person is someone doing what pleases God without getting any accolades at all.

Thankful for all those dad-daughter dates over the years

Before my wife and I married in 2007, one of the things we both felt was important in preparing for marriage was the priority of dad/daughter dates.  Having been a single father for three years, I’d learned quite a lot about the importance of special time with each of my daughters — but it wasn’t until I was married again that the priority of one-on-one time emerged, because of their ages and stages.

As I think about the importance of family, I watch a video on Facebook of a friend’s family dynamic — 90 seconds that just brings a smile to my face — three almost grown children and their parents just goofing off at home.  This is what family’s about!

Some of the best times of my life have been those occasions where I had time with one of my three daughters, and I got to show my genuine interest and curiosity for their lives.

Our dates have usually revolved around getting something to eat at a café so we could spend time chatting for an hour, and often we’ve gone together to shop for something they’ve needed — which is really just an excuse to spend more time together and who support.

Whenever we’ve parted ways, I’ve made the most of a private tradition to lock the memory of our parting into my psyche, noting the preciousness of life.  These are the vital moments in our lives.

Occasionally, I’ve said the wrong thing or responded in the wrong way, and that has always been the catalyst for a quick and earnest apology.  My daughters have each been very gracious.  They’ve always appreciated me apologising for when I’ve got it wrong, for which I’m incredibly thankful.

Looking at my journal for 2011, (as pictured with the blue tags, which I only did that year, each tab marked as “A” or “Z” or “R”, depending on the daughter), I had 25 of these dates, and this was back when my daughters were aged 19, 16 and 13.  At that time in their lives it was really imperative to sow into their lives and our relationship as daughter with her dad.

Occasionally, even though we’ve never acted like we were anything other than a dad with daughter, we would get looks from waiting staff like, “He’s way too old for her.”  We would often laugh.  Though I’ve often been mistaken for looking younger than I am, what does it say about our society that judges a dad-daughter date like that?  Anyway, we never made much of it.

The past few years, as all our lives have gotten busier, the dynamics and frequency of our dates have changed, and we’re more likely to go out as a smaller group.  But all those dozens of dates, and probably well over 50 dates with each daughter by now, have been such a handsome investment in our relationships.

Field notes for battle – mental, emotional, spiritual battle

Imagining days ahead where the battle strikes before us, and without warning we’re there again, in the thick of jungle or desert terrain, these notes are preparatory — much as we must plan, prepare, response and recover situations that pose mortal threat.

§     know that, even after the most initial engagements with any enemy, be it human, spiritual or circumstantial, that harm does occur, and it heralds the need for healing

§     notice the presence of your fellow battlers.  Don’t leave them fend, bloody and bruised in the battlefield without help.  Carry them with you as necessary.  Don’t leave them there to perish listlessly or in anguish before the enemy

§     as Jacob wrestled and got what he needed, but also left with a limp, again, battle scars are part of the journey.  They’re there as visible reminders of the cost of battle, and to remind us that we need external help at times.  As we learn to limp, we’re reminded of the need of humility if we’re to sustain ourselves in future battles

§     preparing when a battle has ceased is crucial.  What did we learn in the battle that just took place that we wouldn’t know otherwise?  It’s time when all is safe to prepare for the next sortie, knowing in it that IT TOO SHALL PASS

§     we need that hope in the battle — this is not a forever thing — this, too, shall pass — so, help me hold the line, engage strategically, tactically, operationally — to know that being a soldier, a warrior isn’t an end in itself, but an important means to an end, and that end is peace

§     amid the ferocity of battle, when there’s temptation to panic and fold, or just as bad to rise in an unnecessary anger, we simply remind ourselves that we’ve prepared for this

§     as Paul said, when we battle with anxiousness, and we put this on repeat, “by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God, and the peace of God that transcends your understanding will be yours....” — that peace has myriad form about it, depending on the person and situation.  Who, amid battle, isn’t prepared to ask for divine help?  Don’t we accept resources for battle from every known source?

§     as we take hold of every resource needed, using each wisely, we fully expect that the held we receive will only have temporary effect — so we are fully prepared to re-engage in the battle and re-engage as necessary.  Few battles are won on the initial engagement

If you’re given to battle, and verily we’re in this war called life, you’re blessed to approach it as a fierce warrior.  Battles as these — the battles of life — it is your destiny to survive through.  Look at you!  Look at what you’ve already survived.

For the battles that are still coming, imagine being equipped like never before.

When we imagine, as it truly is, that life is a series of battles, we plan, prepare for what responses are needed, and think about our recovery.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

The loneliness in grief that can actually help to heal you

Loss never feels like a course correction, but I wonder if for a moment we might entertain there might be some cosmic purpose in it.  It’s the faith in me that always holds out the possibility that when bad things happen, good can come from it.

In the loneliness of grief, that sparks intense isolation, anxiety, depression and panic attacks and the like, we’re forced out of a comfortable ‘blah’ way of life, where we can be resistant to growth.  We’re forced out at least temporarily, and many would say, semi-permanently.

The loneliness in grief, besides the pain of it, which is never enjoyable or easy to bear, can herald certain possibilities:

§     it launches a quest for deeper meaning in life, and that can prove to be an awakening point, which opens up previously unexplored avenues of life

§     loss makes us much more empathetic to the suffering of others as well as more empathic regarding their needs

§     the eyes of our heart are opened, and our interests are transformed, much so that we can see certain things — and certain truths — we never saw before

§     because of inherent vulnerability, there can be more reliance on safe, wise and trustworthy people — and less dependence on unsafe, foolish, dangerous people, who are given a wider berth; so, in grief we become more protective and discerning

§     a developing sense of increased capacity to be alone, not needing others so much, can begin to emerge

§     understanding blossoms within a more philosophical frame of life, some assumptions are cast aside, which signposts a maturation process

§     besides the anger of grief that needs to be safely expressed and managed, you might observe yourself becoming gentler, kinder, more patient — especially with those who are vulnerable

§     loss can actually put us in touch with the deeper purpose of our lives, which beforehand we couldn’t engage with — it can actually feel like the worst thing propelled us to our life calling

§     the broadening of life experience helps us to see the student value in life — we really never stop learning

§     through the process, new skills, passions, giftings, courage, resilience and tenacity are revealed — more moments of, “I cannot believe I can do that!  It’s so good that I can.”

§     and... there are bound to be plenty more

All these possibilities only ever open up to us when we press into the loneliness that comes with loss and grief and don’t deny it in fear.  The lonely path is truly the one that unlocks the potential for new experience and discovery.

Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

Healing the wound in the house of hospitality

“Many people in this life suffer because they are anxiously searching for the man or woman, the event or encounter, which will take their loneliness away. But when they enter a house with real hospitality, they soon see that their own wounds must be understood not as sources of despair and bitterness, but as signs that they have to travel on in obedience to the calling sounds of their own wounds.”

— Henri Nouwen (1932–1996)

We all have that sense that we’re not at home here.  Our struggling and our striving, never quite feeling at complete peace, always being drawn to one distraction or another, finding it hard to focus, all point to a goal we feel is just there on the horizon — we can see it but it appears elusive.

And then we have Nouwen completely confound our thinking by telling us that the healing we seek is closer than we ever thought.  It is in entering the wound that we find ourselves in the house of hospitality, because it’s in entering our wound by facing it that we face Jesus and enter into His presence.

Being there with Jesus we find we’re perfectly safe to be at one with our pain, and when at last we do this, we find we always had this unconquerable capacity within us.  THIS is the encounter we’ve always been called to.  It’s what we always believed for.

When we arrive there all of what doesn’t make sense begins to make sense and we accept it.

Out of the nucleus of our own wounds we find every sense of direction, for our wound can be approached when we’re in the house of hospitality, and we find right there our datum point.  It’s our meaning for life, because it’s our capacity to overcome what’s happened to us.

The house of hospitality, therefore, is the unity of God and our hospitality with ourselves.

In hospitality, all come and are perfectly at home.  And “all” is all of us, our self, as a single human unit, unified with God.

In hospitality, we find protection, space, openness, and true sight.  We see things as they are, and our wound is seen for what IT is.  It’s not just enshrouded with pain as a barrier to sight and feeling.

What we can see and touch we can feel, and we can contemplate, and we can keep facing, and as we’re home right there, direction comes.

Once we’re no longer dissuaded from entering into the wound, once we see we can reside there, with Jesus, because He modelled how to do it, we face the wound, and the wound actually becomes pivotal in our personal revival.  And life begins... for the first time, OR again!

Image: Katherine Hanlon

5 ways of responding well rather than reacting in anger or fear

The number of conversations I have with people who tell me they’ve got an issue with anger — either their own or others’ anger — is astounding.  The reason?  Everybody’s got a relationship with anger.  Many find it a hard thing to tame.  Many others are intimidated by others’ anger.  Either way, anger is a cause of much distress.

When anger is expressed in harmful ways it either hurts others or the person themselves.  Anger turned inward is depression and anger turned outward is aggression.  Both are violence.  But anger needn’t be such a villain.

Here are five ways of responding well to tense, stressful, triggering situations:

1.             Express the anger in a safe way – I hold a ‘triggers diary’ for those times when my anger needs to find expression.  I go and hide away for a few moments and scribble my raw feelings down, then I re-read what I’ve written, and then I take a moment to think and pray before I re-enter my family’s space.  When I need longer, it’s up to me to find more time and space.

2.             Respond by pacification – this is a thing I’ve learned to do well in a pastoral setting because I genuinely want others to get along with each other.  But in tense situations it can be hard to pacify angry people.  Just like if we faced off with a wild bear, we need to remain still and non-aggressive, quick to listen, quiet and slow of voice, watching to keep our words, body language and gestures non-aggressive.  There was only ever one situation I ever encountered that I wasn’t able to reduce the heat in the interaction.  One time out of hundreds are odds I’ll take.

3.             Remove yourself from the situation until things cool down – this is a boundary technique anyone can try if boundaries are possible in the relationship in question.  If boundaries aren’t allowed, we’d have to ask why we’re in a relationship like that, but life’s not always that simple to be able to get out of some relationships.  Removing ourselves from the situation isn’t denying the problem, but it does give us space to be safe, and it gives the other person time to cool down.

4.             Forgive yourself for overreacting – one not-so-good response is to cruel yourself for reacting badly out of guilt — “Look how ‘bad’ I am!”  Make your apologies sincerely to deal with any guilt.  Get the business of reconciliation done.  Do it sincerely.  This in itself is responding well, even if the overreaction wasn’t the right way of starting.

5.             Neither be goaded nor goad – the best of conflict is in responding so neither the other person nor you get hurt.  Anger doesn’t have to end in harm.  Repel the temptation to get them back and resist absorbing their attack in a way that damages you.  Try to have the momentary poise (situational bravery) to not be intimidated no matter how imposing they are.  Of course, it’s not always achievable, but it’s worth standing firm wherever we can.

Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash