A few days ago, I used the F-word in front of our senior pastor.
Wait, maybe I should
back up a little. Set the scene a bit so you don't think I'm totally a monster.
You see, I have a real problem with the F-word. As in, it flies a little too
easily out of my mouth. Casual conversations, quick email responses, phone calls,
you name it. It's just all too easy to use it.
And the thing is
that I know that I shouldn't be throwing the F-word out there all the time like
that. Clearly, it is a blatant misuse of language. When I use that word, I am
sending a clear message, giving the hearer an impression of me that could be severely
misleading.
So, there I was
standing at the counter, waiting for my burger with no tomato and extra
avocado, and the senior pastor of our church (and my BOSS, I might add) walked
up next to me and smiled.
"How are you,
Sarah?" he asked.
Without even giving
it a moment of thought, the word jumped out of my mouth.
"Fine."
Have you been there?
Where that word has been your automatic response when, truth be told, you are
NOT fine. In fact, you are far from fine. But when you're standing in the lunch
line, checking your kids in for their appointment at the dentist, or when you randomly run into a classmate you haven't seen in fifteen years, it's not like you're just going to go for it and unleash all the
not-fine things going on right now, right? And maybe you actually ARE fine.
Maybe you are healthy, your kids are healthy, your job is amazing, and there is
nothing keeping you up at night right now, nothing causing you to chew your
cuticles or hide Oreos in the pantry.
But as I waited for
my burger that day, that was not my story. Things were not fine. I used the
word anyway because it is safe. It's the response people expect, the polite
reply that moves the conversation along without making it awkward. Nobody gets
hurt, nobody's schedule is interrupted, and we can all walk away unharmed.
For someone who is
always talking about the value of authenticity, vulnerability and honesty, I
fully admit to the irony that I chose the safe way out….at least at first. As
soon as I had uttered the F-word, I knew I had just lied and I decided to take
the risk and be honest.
"Actually, I'm
not really all that fine," I stated, "Things are kind of difficult
right now. My schedule is a mess, I'm stressed about work, and our marriage is
in a really tough place." I went on to elaborate about these things and my
pastor was gracious enough to listen.
Now, I'm not saying
that every time the cashier at Target asks how we are today we should be
blurting out "Ohmygosh I have the WORST cramps today and I'm bleeding like
a stuck pig!" There is a fine line between being authentic and TMI.
What I am saying is
that when someone who cares about us (who we trust and respect) asks about our
well-being, choosing to lie to them and just say "Fine" when it is very much NOT, is
harmful to everyone. Wounds go un-healed, frustrations get bottled up, and
often we begin to feel very much alone, wondering if anyone would even care
about what we are going through anyway. The walls go up and we become determined to
defend those boundaries, not allowing anyone to get too close out of fear that
they might see the mess we like to keep hidden behind closed doors.
In my experience,
the F-word does far more harm than good.
Now, it's not like I
expected my pastor to abandon his burger, sit down with me right then and there and invest in a
deep conversation about my marital issues, but I can tell you that in the few
moments it took to tell him the truth and have him listen without judging, it made
me feel a heck of a lot better. Because he had fixed all my troubles and made
everything hunky-dory? Of course not! (Do people even use the term hunky-dory
anymore?)
What makes all the
difference is when we can listen and empathize with someone without judging
them or trying to take control. When we take the F-word out of the equation, we
are giving others permission to reach toward us and lovingly help us carry the weight
that is too heavy for one set of shoulders alone.
In Galatians 6:2,
Paul writes about "bearing one another's burdens." I love how The
Message translates this passage:
Live creatively, friends. If someone falls into sin,
forgivingly restore him, saving your critical comments for yourself. You might
be needing forgiveness before the day’s out. Stoop down and reach out to those
who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. If you
think you are too good for that, you are badly deceived. (Galatians 6:1-3)
May we do just that.
May we live creatively, moving beyond
canned responses and apathy to a place where we can keep our mouths shut when necessary and
our hearts open as we stoop down,
stopping what we are doing to share the burden
of someone else. We aren't called to fix it, but by meeting someone in their
pain we are doing precisely what Christ called us to do - love our neighbor as
ourselves.
By choosing to honest with my language and allowing
myself to be authentic about my burdens, I am giving others the opportunity to
be more Christ-like.
Can we challenge one
another in this? Spouses, friends, family members, brothers & sisters of
the Church? Let us not be deceived, we are not too good to admit when we are NOT fine.
How's that for a
reason to quit using the F-Word?
