Grieving is helped with empathy, harmed with emotional bypassing

One thing we found so true in losing Nathanael arises in losing my Mum.  Whereas when we were losing Nathanael people might say, ‘Well, at least you won’t have the hard ordeal of bringing up a disabled child,” now it’s something like, “Well, your mother was sick for a very long time,” as if these things said make any sense in the situation of grief we find ourselves in.

What may be true can also be a gross case of emotional bypassing, where the person uttering the insensitive truth cuts off the opportunity of connecting with the one grieving through a lack of empathy—that is, resisting or refusing to stand in the grieving one’s shoes.

What I want to say to my world right now, as I cope with a truth that threatens to tear me in two, even as our whole family reels with the loss of our matriarch, is stop the nonsense talk, and bear the strength of empathy by simply being present.  You do not need to say anything!  Indeed, just holding a little space, sharing the moment of pain with me, that’s what I need.

I also don’t need you to rescue me.  Indeed, in attempting such insanity, you’ll make things worse.  Don’t come when you see me sob and think your words will make it better.  A hand on the shoulder is all that’s needed.  Or catching my gaze, a look of connection.  Accept the sanctity of grief in the precious sacredness of lament.  It actually works marvellously!  Simply put, tell yourself, “I can’t fix this or make it better, and that’s okay.”

Oftentimes in my own case, I find that I do grieve best alone, and I have complete faith that the tears and time in lament are themselves the salve I need.

Please don’t think you can “heal” me or fix the situation somehow by your words.  Words simply threaten to betray empathy and possibly prove a paucity of understanding.

Perhaps offer by your silence that you’re willing to listen, IF I’m willing to share.  The truth is my wife I’ll share with.  Sometimes with others, but if me not sharing with you hurts you, that’s not my problem, it’s yours.

The less we DO to “heal” people in grief the better the outcome.  This does not stop us from offering practical support, just make sure the offers are based in a heart that simply wants to give, i.e., without strings attached.  Simply holding space and being present with a person in pain is the empathy that will promote healing itself.

In my situation, it’s true that my mother battled poor health for two or three decades.  It inspires me what she put up with.  It’s wrong and dishonourable to her memory for anyone to say, “well, your mother WAS sick for a very long time.”  Like, “her death was a long time coming, and that ought to help you in your grief.”  Well, it doesn’t!  As if saying such a thing will do any good.  Those words cut me off from my lament, and instead of my feeling your empathy, I feel angry that you robbed me of your empathy just to make your point.

Don’t make your point.  Please.  Don’t be “right” because in being “right” you’re being unkind.  If you can see this, you have a compassionate spirit, but if you can’t, you really don’t get it.  By being “right,” in making your point, however true it might be, you engage in emotional bypassing.

What happens in emotional bypassing is our pure primary emotional response of lamenting sorrow is cut off and the secondary response of indignant anger takes its place.  This is how people are robbed of the purity of their grief that would, with a little time and care, heal them.

AFTERWORD: my father had his fledgling faith shipwrecked many years ago when a minister visited with my parents after they’d suffered the stillbirth of my little sister, Debbie.  It was only one thing that was said that upset my Dad at that precious time.  “Something beautiful will emerge out of this...” was what was said.  It didn’t need to be said.

Interestingly, what was said actually came true—my youngest brother was born.  BUT even though something beautiful might probably have come out of such a tragedy, it not only didn’t need to be said, but it set Dad on a path of interrupted grief for many years, and he certainly had no time for faith.  Instead, had that minister been gentle and patient, and importantly not tried to bypass my Dad’s emotions, he may well have been in a great position to disciple Dad through his silent yet present care.

NOTE: please don’t expect me to engage with any comments you might have at present.  I love your encouragement, but I don’t need to fawn my pleasure by engaging with comments.  I’ve said what I feel needs to be said.

Curiosity or judgement? – mindsets for healing or toxic thought

In a life that is all about choices, even if there are many situations we don’t have a choice about, choice is always the choice we have.

In terms of mindset and a paradigm through which to perceive life, there are choices, to be an optimist or a pessimist, a realist or an idealist, objective or subjective, etc.  Let’s say each of these choices is not about choosing right or wrong, or better or worse.  Let’s imagine for a moment that there is a time in a season for each of these thought prisms.  Let’s also imagine that some of this, apart from awareness, are inclinations informed by personality.

But what I want to put before you is a state for thought that promotes mental health and wellbeing.  For those who battle with their mind – and most of us have been there – there are some simple things in terms of thinking practices that assist in the guarding of our hearts and minds.

The first is plain awareness – from a contemplative viewpoint – becoming more aware of what we’re thinking and how we got there.  Of course, the second thing is HOW to deal with the rising awareness, and this is where we come to the choice to either judge our thoughts or be curious about them.

To judge is to get forensic and make an assessment of the thought, and that default assessment is usually negative in terms of “judging” the thought.  To be curious about the thought, however, is to stand back a little way and to simply observe what we’re feeling and thinking.  To be curious is a choice, it’s a positive choice, to allow the thoughts and feelings to be “as they are” and not need to be defended.

Until we realise that we don’t need to judge our thoughts we don’t even give it a thought – that we do in fact have a choice.  But to exercise that choice requires some intentionality.

We live in a world that judges us all the time, so why do we pile on top of this our own self-judgement and self-condemnation?  We do it because we’re not even aware of it.  So it’s worth becoming aware so we can institute the disciplines of standing at a little distance to simply observe what we’re thinking and feeling – without the judge’s gavel in our hand ready to strike the block.

The most beneficial thing in being curious about our thinking and feeling processes is we give ourselves space that others often do not give us.  If we don’t give ourselves that space, we may miss out entirely.  The irony is, in not giving ourselves space, we may not give others space, so as we prefer self-curiosity over self-judgement, we’ll tend to offer others that benefit of the doubt also.

Imagine having that friend that never judges us.  Imagine how gracious they are, how wise they are, how much we might lean on them in that hour of our need.  This is what the curious mind does for us when we engage in that thinking, as we nurture it, as we practice it and progress it toward it being just how we operate mentally.

Imagine the balance, the perspective, the wisdom we’d attain, simply by not flying off in judgement against ourselves.  And in not judging ourselves, we become logically less judging of others, and through a process of reciprocation we’d find that others might be less judgemental of us.

When we prefer curiosity over judgement, we stand to learn the true source and meaning of what we think and why we think.  Instead of feeling condemned, amid guilt and shame also, we stand away from the negativity in being curious, and that space is a healing space. 

From generational trauma to the love of unconditional acceptance

Who I have in mind right now is men, but this really applies to all.  Perhaps for men reading, use this as a lens for reflection, even as I reflect afresh on my own performance as a man, not only in marriage, but as a human being relating with other human beings while my light flickers bright.

Consider, beforehand, how fleeting is your life.  This is important, for we must always live in the light of eternity, for we all die.  When we die, others will experience loss, just as we experience loss when those we love die.  Your light flickers just now, but you are temporary.  Just acknowledge that.  It changes things.

Such a reflection causes us to search the known universe for the answer to the question, “What on earth am I here for (for this short time)?”

It’s a question that leaves us at a loss for answer, apart from the simplest answer we embarked on that journey with.

That initial answer, whether we acknowledged it or not is beside the point, never changes, and it’s the only answer worth finding.

The answer to the question, “What on earth am I here for (for this short time)?” is love—to issue and execute a love of unconditional acceptance toward all, but especially toward those who are kin in this life!

The only thing that stands in our way is the 
presence of generational trauma in our lives.

It’s a question designed to humble us under the weighty glory of a reality that floors us—we live and die.  Our task is to wrestle with those bonds of generational trauma and break clear of them so we live more and more the love of unconditional acceptance toward ourselves and others.

I’m laying this out because it’s serious—you really must consider this if your life is to count in eternity’s reckoning.  What’s the use of three-score-and-ten or four-score-and-ten and MISSING the whole concept of life that was supposed to penetrate your life and being?

Thank you for bearing with me, 
we’re getting there, 
it just takes some time to set the context properly.

~

The meaning of all our lives is to love others with an unconditional acceptance, so not only do we do no harm, but we sow the seed of love forward so others can process their trauma.

Life is innately traumatising without love—where the manipulated order of conditional acceptance holds sway, at best.  At worst, there’s no acceptance at all.  Let’s get this straight: life is innately traumatising when there is a void of the love of unconditional acceptance.

Let me explain what unconditional acceptance is: it is extending the fruit of the Spirit kindness, patience, gentleness, and grace to all-comers regardless of how they reciprocate, and it’s a commitment to these four ideals especially to those in our homes—in those quiet, secret places where people often don’t treat people well.

It’s the commitment to be a cycle breaker, and it’s the commitment to break toxic cycles, even if we get it wrong occasionally and need to apologise frequently.  Have you thought about the power of apology, the humility in it, to restore people to love through the healing of trauma?  Apology communicates justice and love powerfully.  It’s a vital tool in loving with unconditional acceptance.

Narcissists traumatise people because they cannot and will not ever apologise.

It’s the commitment of humility, of serving people in the quiet places where nobody especially notices.  It’s the commitment and the work that says, “This cycle of abuse and trauma ends with me!”

The love of unconditional acceptance is especially needed in men these days, and we need men who lead in the humility that chooses sacrificial service, not in big noting themselves with entitlement.

The entitlement 
that exploits 
without empathy 
(narcissism)
breeds trauma exponentially.

The only hope we have is that we consistently deploy the love of unconditional acceptance which is kindness, patience, gentleness, and grace at all times, and working through our own triggers so we protect ourselves and others when we, ourselves, are vulnerable.

The solution to generational trauma, so that the cycle stops with us, is the propagation of our own healing into the healing of others.  It can’t be more simply put than consistently loving others with unconditional acceptance.

Grief is a tortuous journey of heart wrenching seasons

Today I learned about the value of walking in processing the pain in grief.  The very physical nature of walking, especially in nature, provides such a great basis for reflection as you’re encamped within the captivating expanses of life.

As I listened to the radio program, 
I was reminded of our grief journey losing Nathanael in 2014.

This time 8 years ago, we had just embarked on a new journey within our grief process, and we truly had no idea where it would lead, how long it would last, or under what circumstances and conditions that season would conclude.

Sarah was told she would need these amnioreduction procedures because of how much amniotic fluid Nathanael was producing.  Sarah’s body was not able to cope with it, and it had to be extracted via a large hypodermic needle into her uterus under ultrasound imaging.  She was herself at risk.

It looked simple enough, but this world-class treatment that was administered by the pioneer of the procedure, could have brought labour on at any time, and not only were we warned of that, but we also had to prepare ourselves that our grief journey could ramp up at any time—the threat was instant loss.  Because of insufficient lung capacity and other complications, we were expecting to lose Nathanael upon his birth.

As we commenced this journey, we really had no idea what it would involve.

If anything we were operating by faith in the medical staff and in many unknowns alone.  We were in a constant state of having to live in the present and having no future to anchor to.  But both the present and the future were full of uncertainty, and we really didn’t know what each moment would bring.  Looking back there was an immense number of tasks to be done just to keep up with the process of keeping Sarah healthy, not to mention other significant factors that were ever pressing—all out of our control.

The commencement of this part of the journey was the start of a whole journey of itself.

Yet little did we know what the next 11 weeks would hold.  There would be eight amnioreductions in that 11-week period all told.  Some of these involved Sarah having an overnight stay to ensure she wouldn’t go into labour.  At other times we felt confident that she would be okay, and we would leave the hospital after about 6 hours of having had the procedure and recovery.

When you are enduring ambiguous loss, the seasons within the overall journey seem massive, and the whole of life feels more epic (in the worst ways) than seems possible.

Each season within the overall journey requires its own courage, as each step requires its own strength.  Many of us have walked these intrepid steps quite alone, and no matter how much support we had, it was still up to us to take each step.

Add in the complication of clinical depression, which is not uncommon in traumatising grief, and we can feel like we don’t have what it takes to even take those steps.  Each step can feel insurmountable.  We can feel immobile.

When you look back over the entire journey and wonder how you made it, you begin to realise how glad you were that you didn’t know how long and how hard it would be.  I’m sure that it is a real blessing to not know in advance what is involved in stepping out the whole grief journey.

What this really says to those who have been there is you have incredible courage, stamina, and resilience, no matter how weak, incapacitated, and incapable you felt along the journey.

Anyone who has been through a life-changing season will attest to the years it takes to journey through the whole ordeal, whether it’s loss of a partner, a child, a career, or transition through something else momentous.

If you’ve been through such a horrendous journey, where there were several suffering seasons strung together in series, hard season through sad season, through challenging season, through angry season, through debilitating season, you may wonder how you got through, but I know how grateful you must be that you are no longer in that pit.

If this is you, and your life has been turned upside down due to circumstances beyond your control, and even if you’ve had some role to play in the consequences that have been dished out towards you, simply have faith for the moment, and then for the next one, and then for the next.  Somehow it just works if we boil it down one moment at a time.

Reflection is not an important activity when you’re in the middle of hell trying to get all the way through; you stick to the dark path seemingly blindly.  There’s plenty of time for that at the appropriate time.

Stick to what you know best, that you’ve got this, that you can and will get through, that you have the resources within yourself and externally to negotiate the journey.  You can and you will.  Ensure you have the humility to reach out for support, but also have faith that you can do those alone steps by yourself.

Healing trauma is the road less travelled

If you suffered what should not have happened in the first place, it’s understandable to have ventured down some wide road to destruction for a time.  That’s the typical way it is.

Addiction is one of those roads commonly travelled outbound of trauma.  Resentment is another, and so too is being triggered into many other places of being none of us want to arrive at.

Healing trauma is the road less travelled.  But it takes a while to understand that it’s there, that it’s passable, that it’s even attractive.  Then it takes a while for us to decide it really is the wise way.  Then it takes a while to pluck up the will to cross over toward it for a quick reconnaissance.  Some time is spent scouting out that route to see if it really is worth it.

There’s a lot to give up, but if we’re sick and tired of being sick and tired, that’s usually enough to convince us.

Healing trauma is a road less travelled because it’s hard.  It promises a reward, but actually driving the road is done by faith with no sign of the reward in sight.  If anything, it involves significantly more pain than reward because truth is faced, and these truths are ugly realities.  But to find ourselves on the road less travelled is amply worth it.

Healing trauma is a road less travelled because it involves us bearing our cross.  And in gospel terms, we can only be resurrected if we die first.  Healing trauma is hence about dying to the self that dissociates from our pain, dying to the self that resists truth, and dying to the self that prefers comfort at any cost.

Healing trauma is the means to abundant life because there’s no access to this road less travelled without having opened eternity’s door in reconciling that past that would haunt us if it weren’t healed.  And though healing is a process, God is good to give us candidacy for healing even as we take that first step in faith that we’ll keep walking that road.

Healing trauma is the road less travelled because it reconciles that addiction is a cover for the pain we cannot face.  Having faced those demons, and with the addictions overcome, a commitment to recovery becomes the work of healing.  And honest humility paves the way with each brick steadily laid down upon that road.

Healing trauma is the road less travelled because so relatively few engage in that work.  Yet it’s a path anyone can take, and it’s the means to the life we’ve all wanted to live, given that the trauma we’ve lived with was there from such a long time ago without our consent.

Healing trauma, therefore, is the mind agreeing with the body that the evidence is clear; this must be dealt with to live anything close to the life we were destined to live.

Healing trauma is the road less travelled but it ought to be a super highway for all to traverse.

Healing trauma is the opportunity of a lifetime – our lifetime.  It’s the road less travelled because many people choose to ignore the opportunity to live without regret.  To heal trauma is to arrive at a humble acceptance for our life and what it has become, and though there may have been regrets, healing sees to it that there are no longer any regrets.  This is a state of living.

Collaboration only occurs where there’s mutual trust

It’s amazing how many people will expect to be collaborated with when what exists is a situation of low trust.

Trust and respect coalesce to such a degree that unless respect is given trust isn’t necessarily earned.  And don’t mistake it for one moment, trust and respect do need to be earned.  They are reciprocal arrangements.  But that doesn’t mean just because we trust or respect others that that will be returned to us.

The mark of an immature person is someone who expects to be trusted when they don’t extend that trust, or they expect to be respected but do not offer that same respect.

The mature person on the other hand looks to develop allegiances and extend trust, until the situation arises where a person demonstrates they can’t be trusted.  Then it’s a case that safe boundaries are required.

If we are expecting to be involved in cooperation and collaboration, what we must first realise is that we must be trustworthy, and we must trust the other party.

Truly nothing is harder than when, from a relational perspective, there is no trust, because nothing can be achieved relationally speaking without the cooperation of trust.

It is madness to expect someone to trust you when you won’t trust or respect them.  Not only madness, but immaturity, and when pushed to the extreme it’s narcissism.

There is literally no limit to the amount of cooperation and collaboration possible in a relational setting.  The more we trust people and the more they do to respect that trust, the more trust we can extend, and the more they feel trusted.

Such relationships truly are the meaning of life, but of course relationships need the capacities of humility and apology for the inevitable times when we disappoint people or they disappoint us, where we or they don’t measure up, when we or they don’t foresee problems, etc.

Of course, a crucial part of all of this is realistic expectations, and humility exercised by all parties, as all parties hopefully are able to look inward, and reflect on what they personally can do better, rather the look out outward and blame others.

The chief enemy in the relational realm is the spirit of entitlement, but the chief help is an attitude of service.

Simply put, if we expect others to cooperate and collaborate with us, we need to be trustworthy.

The redemptive side of fight-flight-freeze-fawn responses

I wrote an article yesterday about how safe relationships embrace and do not exploit the fawn response.  This is a follow-up to that article, and the premise is there’s a redemptive side to all the trauma responses of fight, flight, freeze, and fawn.

Firstly, I’ll concede that being triggered through the trauma responses never feels good, because being triggered occurs through unsafe vulnerability, personally, and at times through exploitation, interpersonally.  Even if you can’t put your finger on it, it never feels good.  I’m not giving license here to a positive spin on being triggered.

But I want this to be a space for encouragement for those who are on a journey with their trauma triggers.

FIGHT

When a person is triggered in fight mode, there is a sense of extreme injustice felt that compels a person to react against it.  The heart is one of advocacy.  It’s a flipping over of tables kind of heart.  That’s our indignant Jesus.

Part of the journey of unpicking the maze that is the fight response is observing ourselves in the triggered moment, especially as we reach up toward a goal of “do no further harm.”  It’s wonderfully redemptive to identify with not only the anger in the injustice, but with compassion for those who have been wronged.  Healing is more of the latter.  This is akin to what Jesus must have experienced in being “moved with compassion because the people were distressed and dispirited, like sheep without a shepherd.” (Matthew 9:36)

The goal of healing the fight response could be to refine compassion from the anger.  The compassion has a productive pastoral use.  Compassion connects us to a world that can be helped.  There’s always healing in this kind of service.

FLIGHT

Being triggered in the flight mode is often done for self-protection.  There are times to hide, just as there are times to reveal.  Paul took flight at times, as did other biblical figures.  Jonah hid.  Even Jesus’ parents took flight when they wisely sought safety from Herod’s machinations.  The point is, wisdom dictates that there are times when fleeing is right.  We’ve all fled situations that would have been foolish to stay in.  Especially in a world where malevolence is often cloaked in secrecy, blessed it is for the one who needs to escape when they can get refuge and indeed sanctuary.

The goal of healing the flight response could be to accept that fleeing is right at times, whilst discerning opportunities to stand one’s ground on those occasions that are actually safe.  But importantly to neither judge nor condemn responses, but to observe and learn from them.

FREEZE

Whilst freezing in certain moments does serve to enable those who would exploit (and I can think of horrendous examples where people have been abused), freezing is also appropriate when the mind knows no way ahead.

This is not about making something good from something very disempowering, for I can’t think of anything worse than being frozen in trauma, but there’s some wisdom in not reacting overtly when there’s no capacity to process what’s going on.

The goal of healing the freeze response could be to accept limitations, to acknowledge safe boundaries and work within them, to respect the body’s communication method and go with it.

FAWN

Much as I mentioned in my article yesterday, there is a servant hearted desire to love the other in the fawn response.  The difference being that not everyone is trustworthy enough to honour that servant heart that seeks to love others at all costs.

Too often people take advantage of it, and the narcissist particularly draws this behaviour out.  But the redemptive feature of fawning is it’s a beautiful heart behind it.

The goal of healing the fawn response could be to see the fragile, vulnerable, naïve beauty in it, and to celebrate it within safe community of the like-minded.

~

Too often the trauma responses are seen as dysfunctional.  Perhaps it can be seen that the trauma responses can at times actually be functional.

It’s easy to get down about the automatic responses made to triggering events.  Sometimes, however, there’s a redemptive side to these responses.

In safe relationships, fawning is embraced and not exploited

Fawning responses are part and parcel of the way empathic people process difficult situational and relational dynamics.  Indeed, fawning is so common we see it as the default in much of Christian fellowship dynamics.  It’s done because the person does not want to in any way appear unkind.  It’s done this way because an empath cannot stand the thought of hurting people.

Fawning can be described as behaviour that completely and consistently abandons one’s own needs to serve others to avoid conflict, disapproval, antagonism, and criticism.

When people say, “hurt people hurt people,” it basically disqualifies the empath from being an abuser, because even when they are abused, they do their own work to heal up just to ensure they are not a danger to anyone.

Given that the empath (in those of us that identify) employs fawning as a typical response to many relational dynamics, the determination of a safe relationship is one where the other person allows for such fawning, and there is space for both to discuss and embrace it.

Unsafe people will always take advantage of the fawning response.  They will always capitalise on what is an open door to exploitation.  This is how we can see it in an abuser, and the abuser walks straight into that trap.  The trouble is, we need so many more trauma-informed people who will see these relational dynamics, because most really do not.  The unsafe person, therefore, is the one that extracts the fawn response by manipulation for the purpose of manipulation.  When you know what you’re looking for it stands out like day.

On the other hand, the safe person will intuit the fawn response as being overly friendly and overly accommodating.  In their seeing this, it’s typical that they’ll identify that they too fawn in the face of uncertainty.

For the safe person, there is the opportunity to develop closer rapport with the person who fawns, because fawning is vulnerable behaviour operating out of vulnerability.  The very thing that the unsafe person does in exploiting the vulnerable fawning behaviour is seen by the safe person as an invitation to a mutuality of friendship.

This is one reason why we should not criticise people for fawning.  Seen another way, it’s the naivete that otherwise facilitates beautiful relationships, if only with safe people.

There is so much negativity about the trauma responses of fight, flight, freeze, and fawn, but truly each of these responses has a redemptive side.  The redemptive side of the fawn response is the beautiful gentleness, patience, kindness, and graciousness of a person who is prepared to sacrificially serve anyone.

And, of course, there is much wisdom in the fawn response when a person detects danger.  We could argue that the fawn response is a special gift of discernment.  Not only is the person who uses the fawn response protected, they avert danger in so many ways for others, and indeed, for knowledgeable watchers-on they reveal abusers wherever the fawning is exploited.

The fact of the matter is nobody should ever be taken advantage of for fawning.

It’s a beautiful moment in a relationship where two or more people can observe each other’s fawning and recognise it for the service and love that’s in it, if not for the safety and security that they in that moment crave.

It’s not a crime to crave safety and security—these are human needs.  Craving safety and security reveals the inherent sacred vulnerability in a person not given to evil.  That the world is so often an unsafe place is a blight on what it otherwise should be.

It’s beautiful when a person can notice vulnerability and instead of taking advantage of it and honour the vulnerability as something that reflects the love of a Christ who bore our crosses on his own back.

It ought to be seen as a love for the other that insists on nothing for itself.  It’s just such a pity that fawning is seen as a weakness because of the amount of it that’s taken advantage of.

When ‘best friends’ come too close in marriage

When you reach my age, you realise you’ve seen most things that could occur in life once or twice at least.  One thing I’ve seen quite a bit is the phenomenon of ‘work wife’ and ‘work husband’.  You know, it’s all said in jest, but there’s always a truthful element to the serious intimacy any of us can develop with someone outside our marriage.

The key question is, is it appropriate or not?

What I’ve seen at the worst of it is two people in a workplace with an openly intimate relationship, both married to other people.  There was a lot of banter, but very many serious moments and long lunches these two shared together, including many fond embraces, lingering glances, etc.  These two never took it further into a full-blown sexual relationship from what I knew but I have known plenty of other situations where a secret liaison turned into the breakdown of one or two marriages, and many of these situations involved children, not to mention the innocent partners, who all learned of their personal devastation far too late.

The worst-case scenario of when best friends become a little more than that is a situation that wreaks havoc in the lives of people who may never truly recover from that betrayal trauma.  Certainly there is the destruction of relationships.  And in faith settings, these situations often cause people to chuck their faith out—both the protagonists and those who watch on in disgust.

There is no such thing as “God told me to do it” in these situations.

Intimacy is a very, very sticky thing—stickier than treacle or molasses.  Once we grant ourselves or our partner permission to know a person, and I’m not talking in the biblical sense of “knowing” (that is, having sex with them), there is always the risk that something more might develop.

Oftentimes, we might trust ourselves a little too much, thinking we could resist the temptation if an attraction started.  Gee, that can often be a naïve assumption.  Thinking we are beyond temptation is more based in pride than wisdom.

Intimacy or sexual attraction to another can and does occur, a lot of the time without warning, because none of us can predict what another person might do that will be very attractive or how we will respond in our heart.  Many of these factors truly are beyond our control.  They can be temptations too great to stave off.  The risk of a wonderful return on our investment in falling for a temptation may feel entirely worth it in the moment.

Of course, any liaison that seems too good to be true will be too good to be true.  Another person will seem incredibly attractive compared to our spouse because exploring the relationship is the entrance of the romance phase which is always highly exciting.  But that only lasts a year or two, tops.  How many of these ‘wonderful’ relationships that were initiated in secret survive the long grind of life coupled with a companion?  Affairs literally are the worst way to begin a long-term relationship, because they are propagated a lot of the time through tunnel vision.

Again, attraction is sticky!  What needs to be considered is once this intimacy train chugs out of the station it quickly becomes a runaway train.  Literally nothing will stop it, not even the threat of disaster.

Let’s depart for a moment and juxtapose miracles and disasters in a relational context.  For me, I would describe a miracle in the relational context as something where a deep hurt is forgiven, and two parties reconnect, and it’s where trust blossoms once more.  The disaster is at the other extreme, and in this situation, we’re not talking just about two people; there’s a ripple effect involved and there are potentially very many—even whole communities at times—who are betrayed and harmed as a result.

Is it worth the risk to nurture a relationship with someone we could in future become attracted to, or potentially worse, they become attracted to us?  And what about what our partners think?

If a partner has a problem with a particular alliance with another person, and we’re not talking about them controlling your relationships overall, should not that partner have a voice?  Shouldn’t they be listened to?

Many broken marriages and relationships could well have been saved had the tempted one simply listened to the wise counsel.  Many children could’ve been saved immense sorrow, anger, shame, even guilt.

Ask yourself, is it worth it to nurture intimacy and passion with an attractive person outside your marriage or stable relationship?

10 seconds to gratitude

Are you thankful for that brake pedal, that technology for stopping an enormous amount of kinetic energy, that saves you and others on the road from having a disastrous day?  How many times per day do we travel in traffic and put our right foot down on that pedal and just expect the car to pull up, so we don’t career into the car in front of us?  How many times have we had near misses that we clean forgot about a moment later?  Amid being frustrated with the blockages to traffic, those horrendous traffic jams, think for a moment on all that starting and stopping, how reliant we are on our brakes.  They save a thousand painful realities.

Are you thankful that you have arms and legs, ways and means of moving around and using your hands?  Not everyone has two arms and two legs or the use of them, but if you do, you are blessed, even if they don’t work very well.  Hands are incredible things, they give so much dexterity, but we often take hands for granted, like for turning a doorknob, or using a knife and fork, or to speed-type a text.  There’s something surreal in looking down at our hands and saying thank you.  All those things our hands and fingers have been able to achieve for us over our lifetimes.  All those times we squashed our fingers into doorjambs, and our hands just diligently got on with the task of healing.  All those cuts, and maybe a break or burn or two, and whilst there are scars, those hands of ours continue to do what they’re supposed to do.

If you have shelter tonight, even if it’s not the Ritz, there’s a reason to be thankful.  There’s a lot to be said for being dry and warm on a cold night, or of having the resources to stay cool in the heat.  We only need to think of times when we didn’t have these basic needs met and we are quickly grateful.  Think of all the functions in a modern home, all the technology, the lighting, the ablutions, the soft furnishings, and everything else, most of which we take for granted.  Think of the hundreds if not thousand(s) of possessions you own.  It’s not until we leave home for a long time and embark on a trip that we pine for home and can’t wait to be back there.

I don’t know everyone who will read this, but I’m imagining most people love music, some kind of music.  Music moves our hearts, and it inspires us to happiness and sadness and all kinds of emotions between.  Music ministers to our moods.  Even those who have hearing difficulties and deafness appreciate the beauty of music through the preciousness of those soundwaves that punctuate the melody.  Those favourite songs of ours we’ve played hundreds sometimes thousands of times.  But it’s not often that we are thankful for our hearing, for those ears that give us the opportunity to receive sound, or for our brains that perceive the tunes that titillate us.

There are so many routine things that we all take for granted, and realistically, wherever we are and whatever mood takes us, we can convert the moment into gratitude in 10 seconds or less.  All we need to do when we succumb to complaint or frustration, or begin to despair, lose hope, or spiral downward in the panic of grief, is to become aware... then switch.

Gratitude won’t change our reality, but it does give us perspective.  It reframes the present.  Gratitude borrows from a present we don’t readily see and fortifies it with a dose of reality.  Gratitude aligns us with truths that save us from a lack of vision propelling us to wisdom.

Gratitude.  It’s a choice to align to reality.  Instead of our focusing on what we don’t have, we focus on the plethora we do have.