Skip to main content

Keeping it simple


In many ways, being in Grad. School/Seminary is incredibly overwhelming. Do you ever try to read something--maybe an article online--with somebody else, and the other person is reading much faster than you, so they turn the page/scroll before you're ready, and you feel like you're missing half of the article? That's something of what grad. school feels like... like I want somebody to slow things down so I can actually process them and fit it all together and analyze things. Unless I want to take one class per semester and be a student for life (which I wouldn't mind all that much, if it didn't feel so impractical), I'm realizing that will never happen.

Anyway, in spite of not being able to actually take in all of the complexity of what I'm supposed to be learning, there have been some big themes which I've noticed.... those paradigm shifters, those lightbulb "a-ha!" moments. In example, marital counseling is complex, because people are complex, which means the more people you're dealing with at once, the more complicated things get. But, there is a basic concept which lays the foundation for a growing marriage: People need to feel valued. Why does it hurt when your spouse uses that tone of voice towards you? Because it feels like they don't respect you. Why do arguments escalate, with two people doing everything they can to prove their points? Because not being heard and understood makes it feel like others don't think you're worth listening to and understanding. Of course, this is pretty simplified and generalized, but it makes a lot of sense to me.

This isn't just a secular self-promoting perspective. Replace the word "value" with the word "love": "People need to feel loved." God doesn't tell us to love one another just to give us another commandment to keep us busy. It's because He created us and knows what we need.
So I just wonder how many relational problems would simmer down or dissipate if we were just willing to be more clear with people about how much we value them. Most of us don't have a problem noticing what we are unhappy about, what we don't like, what the weaknesses of others are, what mistakes others have made, etc. But we've all probably had relationships--with parents, teachers, bosses, etc.--where it felt like they always criticized but never encouraged us. It's exasperating. So what if we balanced our words more so that we didn't express as many criticisms/complaints and expressed more encouragement/affirmation? I dare you to try.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Magic

We recently watched The Polar Express as a family. I remember loving the slideshow of it as a kid--the elementary school librarian would show it each year before Christmas. Our oldest daughter is four and we've had many conversations this year about Santa. As over-analyzers, Matt and I can't just go with the flow and try to convince her that Santa is real. Many talk about the "magic" of Santa, and how they don't want to ruin that for their kids. I'm not here to argue about what you should tell your kids about Santa, but I do want to share my thoughts on this "magic" business. Our daughter, like most four-year-olds, is really into pretending. She also loves watching shows and reading books. Often, she gets that hopeful sparkle in her wide eyes and asks things like, "Are superheroes real?!" or "Are unicorns real?" On a basic developmental level, she's forming an important life skill of being able to differentiate between wh

More alive

Sometimes I don't feel much. Life feels like a continuously expanding to-do list, and I get in "task mode" and wonder why I want to pull away from everything. In the moment I struggle to put my finger on it, but I know I need a break. And then something awakens my senses and it's the epitome of refreshment. Last night, it was listening to Spiegel im Spiegel by Arvo Part , the song I walked down the aisle to, which Matt and I often listened to in our little studio apartment in Chicago. It also reminded me of the times I picnicked at the Pritzker Pavilion while listening to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra on amazing summer days in the city. There's something about old memories that help me be less detached from myself. As I talked to Matt about this, he said something along the lines of, "that's why art is so human." Because it reminds us that we're not just here to do tasks and stay alive. Art seems like an extra, because it's not

Humanity

I haven't seen this saying in my news feed lately. Instead, we're seeing some of the worst parts of humanity revealed. Scrolling through social media or watching/reading the news can be overwhelming and discouraging, depending where your hope lies and how you view people. Who do we look to when these huge problems are in our face? The government? Rich entrepreneurs? Activists? The legal system? Protesters? Celebrities? Authors and pastors? While God can work through any avenue, we aren't to place our hope ultimately there. These are not just political issues, not just race issues, not just legal issues, not just rights issues, not just health issues. These are heart issues. There are so many things I could say about this, but I only have fifteen minutes of quiet before a child will emerge from her quiet time. So this is the main point I want to make: What would the world look like if you were humble? If we were all humble? The way people view those who look differently, thi