Be Gentle
Friday, September 24, 2010 at 7:00AM MAD21 By Michelle (Graceful, Faith in the Everyday)
I stop short in the driveway and stand staring. It all looks so normal, so everyday, I think to myself, observing the potted impatiens she planted in front of the garage, the Windexed windows, the kitchen light glowing inside. Who would know what goes on behind that front door, between those brick walls? Who would guess there is grieving and sickness, tears and joy mingled bittersweet?
I watch the grandkids play tag, climb the river birch tree. They yell and laugh, scream and fall in piles on the grass.
A neighbor drives by, slows, points to my husband’s uncle’s car – a 50s Chevrolet convertible parked in the driveway – gives me a thumb’s up. He approves of the car. But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that I don’t care a bit about that car, about its funky tail fins and genuine red leather interior. He doesn’t know that I don’t even see it.
This neighbor can’t see the real story, of course. All he sees are grandkids leaping on the lawn, neatly trimmed shrubs, the classic car, a beautiful house bricked shut.
Later that same week I drive to church early on a Sunday morning. I stop at red and then accelerate, and just at the last second I see it, the car turning left in front of me. I slam the brakes and glimpse through the windshield a fist raised, mouths forming angry words, faces leaning forward, disgusted.
What I’ve absent-mindedly taken for a stop sign is actually a red traffic light. I’d been distracted, thinking about labored breathing and cool extremities and the other signs of imminent death that my husband had catalogued for me the night before on the telephone. The elderly couple in the oncoming car had turned on the green arrow; they’d had the right of way. The angry look on their faces accused, “Pay attention, stupid girl!”
I didn’t blame them for the angry words I couldn’t hear. Not really. I’ve done the same myself – muttered a searing response to the driver who cuts sharply into my lane, the cashier who seems grumpy and impolite.
I didn’t blame the elderly couple for their angry gestures because they simply didn’t know. They didn’t know that my driving error wasn’t intentional. They didn’t know that I was simply distracted by pain.
It would be easier if we all resembled Atlas, the weight of the world plainly strapped to our backs. But we don’t know, we can’t see the pain and suffering latched inside, behind the door, bricked tight and snug.
And so, I think, that’s why we must be gentle with one another. Kind. Tolerant. Forgiving. That’s why we ought to give one another the benefit of the doubt. Because at one point or another, each of us will feel the weight of the world on our backs – but not everyone will see it.
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.” (Philo of Alexandria)
“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me – put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9)
Michelle is a Christian wife and mother of two originally from Massachusetts now living in Nebraska. She is a part-time writer, editor and fundraiser for Nebraska PBS/NPR. Michelle loves to write about how her family illuminates God's presence in her everyday life, and on finding (and keeping) faith in the everyday. Michelle enjoys reading, running and writing. Be sure to go visit her blog, Graceful, Faith in the Everyday.
Death, Family, Family Life, Love, Patience, Suffering in Family Life
Reader Comments (7)
such important words....So often we get so wrapped up in ourselves and what is important to us...our "RIGHT" to turn first....
We were called to serve - yet too often I forget.....Self absorbed and self-important I shake my fist at the world - at those who I perceive to have wronged me. Missing all together their hurt - their tears.
Thank you for the reminder!
Michelle, this is SO true! And what I'm learning is that so many people HIDE their hurts and burdens because they see them as weaknesses. (Really, they're not!) And because I'm such an experienced mask-wearer, I try doubly hard to have more sympathy, empathy, and compassion for others. Great post, Michelle! Thank you!
I does seem like such a cruel irony that the world marches on in the midst of our grief, when for us it has stopped, at least for a little while.
This is the truth. It resounds deeply in humanity.
Sometimes I assume the wrong things.... I assume that the person who charges ahead when I have the right of way has a bloated sense of their own importance, instead of being distracted by pain, as I too have been sometimes. Wonderful post.
Oh how true this is... how thought provoking and real. Life goes as the life and death struggle continues. It does feel so 'strange'. I know the feeling.
Thank you all for your wonderful, supportive comments. Today at her memorial service we celebrated my mother-in-law's life and her amazing impact on so many -- and these thoughts I wrote here are even more meaningful today as we walk through this grief enmeshed with joy. Janice, my mother-in-law, always gave people the benefit of the doubt -- she always had a kind word, never a critical or negative one. I know it's hard to imagine, but I never once heard her criticize someone else. Today I am remembering her gentle, compassionate nature -- she was such an incredible role model, and will continue to be for me every day in the years to come.
And thank you, Ginny, for allowing me to share this message of hope and gentleness with your readers here today!