Since Mom’s death I’ve been very sensitive… Too sensitive. A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in the beauty shop waiting for my appointment when I overheard a conversation that was basically just chitchat. A woman was telling a story about a stranger she had
encountered in the mall. She had no interaction with the stranger, but based on
the strangers appearance she surmised the stranger was a drug addict, possibly
mentally ill and in general a drain on society’s resources. Wow!!! That’s a lot
of conclusions to draw from a stranger’s appearance and body language. When I
got home, I replayed the conversation over and over and finally realized I was
angry about hearing the exchange, and brokenhearted for the stranger. Why? Why
did hearing that exchange bring me to the brink of tears hours later? It
bothered me because no one deserves to be judged (period), but especially out
of context of their life experiences. Humans are not one dimensional; every
person is a multifaceted sum of their life experiences. It is impossible to
look at a person and instantly come to a conclusion as to why they are the way
they are without knowing the life experiences that shaped them. Likewise, our
life experiences shape the lens from which we view life and other people. I
look at things much differently now than I did when I was 20. When I thought
about it, I concluded I was troubled because this type of conversation happens all
the time and I don’t think anything about it. Chances are if I wasn’t in
somewhat of a fragile emotional state due to Mom’s death, I may not have
thought a thing about it this time. But at the moment, my heart is still very
tender and my emotions raw.
It’s not
like I’m sitting on a high horse and can say I’ve never passed judgment on a
complete stranger before. But due to my emotional state, this time I really
looked at what happened and scolded myself because I realized that usually I’m
calloused to such things. We should never become calloused (the Bible calls it
having a hardened heart) about passing judgment, jumping to conclusions or just
listening to critical conversation. Hearing someone ripped to shreds, should
always prick our souls and break our hearts. ALWAYS! Since the incident in the
beauty shop, I have really tried to monitor my own conversations. My prayer is…
“God put a guard at my tongue and let my words be sweet.” Having done a lot of
work on our old house, I know all too well that tearing down, the demolition part
of a project is the easiest part, but putting things back together takes a lot
of work and concentrated effort. On many levels, people are fragile beings.
Just like the hardwood floors in my house, people carry emotional scars from
childhood to grave; those scars tell a story, they are the tapestry of life. Criticism
is a wrecking ball to the human spirit.
So,
I’m checking myself, minding my words and praying God will keep my heart softened so it doesn't become hard. I'm a work in progress......
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