Ouch

THUMP! “OOo OO OOO OUCH OUCH OUCH!”

“You did it again didn't you?” sighed my husband.

When I decided to honor God by going barefoot three years ago; there was one problem: He failed to equip me with the grace necessary to walk without hurting myself. “Yep” I winced, “I stubbed it pretty bad. Don't think it is broken this time.” Ten broken toes, numerous dislocations, uncountable sprains, strains, and jams later; I have come away with two valuable lessons:

Firstly to reset a toe one must remember:
PULL HARD.
The (sharp immense unbearable shooting stabbing no good very bad) pain only lasts for a second.
And..
This too shall pass.

Now that the first aid (not recommended treatment) has been administered. Let's talk about those little boo boo's in life. You know what I am talking about. Days when the people you love are the bed post and your whole life seems to be one big GIANT stubbed toe.

I have always been a talker, and worst yet an excited talker. My mother used to tell me stories of days that I would yammer on and on for hours; fall asleep and wake up only to continue on the same train of thought. My problem is that I am genuinely excited to engage with the people around me. When I see you (especially if I love you) I want to fill you in on every last nuance of my day. Not out of pride or even to boast but just because I am happy to see your face. You see Momma always taught me it was good to share, and I guess I took that sentiment a bit too far.

There has been more than one occasion where I have seen people look for the nearest exit when I am in the midst of a gregarious saga. I have encountered those who fake an illness to get away, the “oh I just forgot I have to go (insert excuse here)” and I have even had a person walk away from me mid sentence. Now the easy solution would be for me to just take the hint and shut my trap. BELIEVE ME I have tried. I have even gone so far as to “fast” talking like one would eating. But nothing seems to stop my motor mouth.

Some have called my talking a blessing, how I can get up in front of a crowd and deliver sentences with ease. Or if I am placed in a room full of strangers for an hour I will leave with one or more friends for life. But I will let you in on a little secret. It used to be one of my biggest shames.

Try to imagine the biggest part of you also being the part of you that you hate the most. Not because of how you perceive that part of you; but because of how the people around you perceive it. That is how life has been with my talking. Instead of it being endearing, it was annoying. Instead of being transparent, I was vain. And instead of blessing those around me with my words I felt as though I was just a pest. I had become that person you run from when you see enter the room. That girl that is sweet, but “just too much.” And the hardest blows came from those I loved and respected the most.

“Andrea, you need to allow other people to talk! You cannot always monopolize the conversation. I am allotting you five minutes.” (*Ouch*)

“Andrea, you are as subtle as a freight train.” (*Ooo*)

“Andrea, sometimes I just want to tell you to shut up.” (*Wince*)

And my personal favorite,
“Gosh Andrea, could you be more annoying?” (*Removes the blade from her heart*)

How was I supposed to react to these things? I turned to the bible. The never fail “What would Jesus do?” question. All I kept reading was “turn the other cheek.” But I didn't want to; I wanted to run, hide and cry. To pull the covers over my head and just stay there. What was the use anyway? I was being real, and obviously the person that God made me to be was not good enough. I was annoying, long winded and just too much. I wasn't special enough to be loved just how I was. But right there was saving grace. God had made me this person. He had crafted my very being with His own hands. HE WAS TO BLAME. I am joking HE was to PRAISE.

You see when God gave me this voice He had a plan in mind. When God created me He created every part of me. My legs that were too short, He created them. My ears that were slightly lopsided, He created. My crooked smile, the way I snort when I laugh, my inability to walk without running into things; He created them all. If I believed that He was a loving and perfect God, and that He didn't make mistakes than how could I see myself as one? How could my talking which is such a huge part of who I am be something God "messed up." So I made a decision. If I was going to be a talker, I was to be the one who “never shut up” about Him. I was the one whom He loved, and adored. The one He called His beloved; and I was to tell the world about that love. When I opened my heart to that very simple truth everything changed.


Now just because I had a change of heart it didn't mean everyone else did as well. I still received the blank stares, the flash of "Oh no here she goes again" in a persons eyes, and even an unkind word from time to time. One might think I would be pompous or even vindictive. “God gave me the gift of gab who are you to tell me to be quiet.” But quite the opposite happened. I became more humble. When I could tell that someone was getting an 'overload of Andrea' I smiled and excused myself. There where no feelings of resentment, rather I wanted to bless that person more. So if blessing them meant for me to be silent, I wanted to do that for them.

I became aware of the moods of those around me. It was as if my senses went into overdrive. I could tell if someone was worn out or worried. If someone just wasn't themselves. And so, I began to listen with not just my ears, but more importantly, with my heart. If someone was cruel to me or was rude to me, I didn't automatically get angry. I prayed to God to reveal to me the hidden reason behind their anger. If my feelings were hurt I would pray hard and let down those feelings of bitterness; and take up the feelings of grace. I took more responsibility over my tongue; and realized that sometimes the biggest words were spoken in silence. A hug, a pat on the back, a respectful nod, a smile. These things spoke volumes over anything I could utter.

I was given a piece of advice recently that really seemed to bring all of this home to me. “Sometimes we have to allow those around us to hurt us. Because it can actually help them and alert them to a hidden pain within themselves.” You see people do not strive to be hateful. Most times they inflict pain onto others because they themselves are hurting. We need to remember to ignore the symptom and pray for God to reveal the root of the problem. This will not be easy or even safe; because it is when someone is hurting that they will lash out.

Plato's Allegory of the Cave further explains my point:
Imagine prisoners who have been chained since their childhood deep inside a cave: not only are their arms and legs unmovable because of chains; their heads are chained in one direction as well so that their gaze is fixed on a wall.

Behind the prisoners is an enormous fire, and between the fire and the prisoners is a raised walkway, along which puppets of various animals, plants, and other things are moved. The puppets cast shadows on the wall, and the prisoners watch these shadows. Behind this cave there is a well-used road, and upon this road people are walking and talking and generally making noise. The prisoners, then, believe that these noises are coming directly from the shadows they are watching pass by on the cave wall.

The prisoners engage in what appears to us to be a game: naming the shapes as they come by. This, however, is the only reality that they know, even though they are seeing merely shadows of objects. They are thus conditioned to judge the quality of one another by their skill in quickly naming the shapes and dislike those who play poorly.

Suppose a prisoner's chains break, and he is able to get up and walk about (a process which takes some time, as he has never done it before). Eventually he will be compelled to explore; he walks up and out of the cave, whereby he is instantly blinded by the sun. He turns then to the shadows on the floor, in the lakes, slowly working his way out of his deluded mind, and he is eventually able to glimpse the sun. In time, he would learn to see it as the object that provides the seasons and the courses of the year, presides over all things in the visible region, and is in some way the cause of all these things that he has seen.

Once enlightened, so to speak, the freed prisoner would not want to return to the cave to free his fellow prisoners, but would be compelled to do so. Another problem lies in the other prisoners not wanting to be freed: descending back into the cave would require that the freed prisoner's eyes adjust again, and for a time, he would be one of the ones identifying shapes on the wall. His eyes would be swamped by the darkness, and would take time to become acclimated. He might stumble, Plato asserts, and the prisoners would conclude that his experience had ruined him. He would not be able to identify the shapes on the wall as well as the other prisoners, making it seem as if his being taken to the surface completely ruined his eyesight. Further more if he freed another to lead him up to the light, the bound prisoner would fight to the death if only to avoid the unknown.

Who are we not to “take one for the team” every now and then? Did Christ not sacrifice it all for us on the cross? What are hurt feelings compared to leading a fellow prisoner to the Light? How important is that bruised ego when we are talking about the importance of eternity? When we ground ourselves in the LOVE of God, we can weather the arrows from those around us.

I am not advocating a martyr mentality, nor am I saying to be a door mat for the world to walk on. However I am pleading with you all to let grace rule. Do not let the seed of bitterness take root. Remember Ephesians 4:2:
“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.”

For in this life you cannot control how other people treat you. But you can control how you react to that treatment. You will never escape the pain some words wield, but you can lessen the power of the sting. Your heart will be broken, but just like broke toes, this too shall pass.

God bless you.

Andrea (the barefootbeliever)

2 Corinthians 12:9
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

Luke 6:28-30
28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. 29If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. 30Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.