The harms done when abuse narratives run too far

I want to name an elephant in the room.  I want to put my finger on something that needs to be discussed.  I have no idea the appetite for this topic but it’s one that begs to be explored in our age of outrage.

It is the concept of one’s anger as it is directed without poise and without justification at whatever target we wish to target it at.  What I guess I’m discussing is the narrative of abuse that is taken too far on occasion.

First, what about the role and dynamics of anger as a response to abuse.

DARVO (where abusers DENY, ATTACK, then REVERSE VICTIM & OFFENDER)

Anger certainly has a role in responses to abuse, there’s no question about it.  And whether we like it or not, righteous anger or indignation is part of the process of grief we go through in regaling in pain from the harm caused.

One of the threats of our anger, however, is DARVO.  In perhaps reacting in rage at the injustices we endure and therefore face, especially in being triggered, we open ourselves up to further abuse.

We might know something of a concept called DARVO, whereby those who do the harm of abuse are accused of doing harm yet end up switching back that harm onto the victim and suggesting that they themselves are the abuser.

DARVO stands for Deny Attack Reverse Victim and Offender, and it’s a tactic abusers use to switch the focus onto a victim and their anger.  Survivors of abuse need to modulate anger to effectively ward against being DARVOed.  There’s no wisdom in reacting to abuse in unmerited rage.  Whilst anger is understood as a response to injustice, there needs to be a better overall response.

ACKNOWLEDGING IMPERFECT HUMANITY

Sometimes narratives of abuse are taken too far, particularly when they do not cater for the imperfections in the common woman and man.

I mean, if we are to relate with one another romantically, with a definite level of intimacy, we will need to agree that from time to time we won’t be the best versions of ourselves.  We share the best and worst of ourselves in our intimate relationships.

Sometimes our emotions will spill over into anger.  Sometimes we will not be able to contain ourselves.  Sometimes we will find ourselves in a place where we are ashamed in reflection of how we behaved. 

In all good relationships there is a measure of forgiveness given the occasional excursion from virtuous behaviour. 

All good relationships and all good marriages have that feature about them that there is a grace measured out for each of the parties, and always space for forgiveness, whereby a person isn’t called an abuser for the occasional time their behaviour dips below what’s reasonable. When stress takes hold and has them behaving in ways they would otherwise be ashamed about.

What I’m saying is there is a sharp difference between an abuser and someone who is just an imperfect human being. And that difference is in the ability and capacity and willingness to apologise for one’s lamentable behaviours—which includes the ability and capacity and willingness to change one’s behaviour. 

There must be a limit to one’s righteous anger against or opposed to the anger that is uncontrolled and that is called abusive.  There must be a reasonability that returns to us on the other side of anger—a reasonability that seeks to redeem what is broken and restore the relationship, through repentance and restitution.

‘BLUE ANGER’ & ROOM FOR FORGIVENESS

 When abuse narratives are taken too far and there is no room for forgiveness there is the complete absence of love. At times we all get angry. Perhaps what we must have space for is blue anger.

 Blue anger is about feeling sorry for our anger, because it always has room for the sadness that is true to all anger, sadness that is best described as a lament for a love that is lacking, and a sadness for the injustices that should never occur but do.

Blue anger gives space to sorrow and saves the rage, so love is protected, so forgiveness remains a possibility.

When there is room for a form of anger that is just so sad for what the situation holds, the humanity remains, and there is room for grace and forgiveness, which at the very least is self-preservative, not to mention exhibiting the grace for which every other human being deserves when we consider the universal givenness to mercy we all have in Christ.

GUARDING OUR HEARTS TO REMAIN MERCIFUL

If anger is to exist, let it coexist with mercy or some form of clemency, which has space for reconciliation, for transformation, for change.  And whilst we may not see change in the other person’s life, what it actually helps US with is the space WE need to hold in our hearts for those possibilities for our own good, for our own healing, for the sustenance of our own soul and spirit.

The biblical truth applies here: “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy,” said Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:7).  Where this is grounded is in the playing out of our own lives.  OUR own hearts grow darker when we’re not merciful.

One of the most poisonous things we can do is stay in a world where there is only anger and advocacy and injustice, because the heart grows sick without hope, and we all need the positivity of hope, of grace, mercy, and kindness, and of clemency, with which to see; there is goodness in humankind, comingled with the sin.

One of the most powerful lessons in my own life has been that when I have been held in that place of negativity, of utter injustice, of justified anger, the presence of hope has disappeared.  I then tended to only see with the eyes of cynicism, like those in law-enforcement and other professions like prison guards will battle against, because they may only see what is bad and evil about humanity.

What we must endeavour to do is hold the balance and create opposite tensions where the opposing truths of good and evil are able to coexist in the milieu of life’s reality.

We need to advocate against evil, but we must also prop ourselves up in the good.

We need to sustain ourselves spiritually in this life, which is simply bridging the gap between cynicism on the one hand and naivete on the other.

~

Justice is and will always be when it’s justice for all.  Justice is divine.  Who measures up to divine justice when anger is the only parameter?

Nullifying situational anxiety

Despite the presence of seasons of anxiety in our lives, there’s also the presence of situational anxiety in otherwise ordinary seasons where anxiety isn’t predominant.

Situational anxiety is commonplace.  Every human being faces situational anxiety—it’s what makes us capable of feeling and thinking.  It makes us human.  Even the most relaxed of people face situational anxiety.

Being situationally anxious doesn’t mean we’re less than anyone else.  It doesn’t make us ‘weak’, even if we do feel vulnerable.  It means we feel.  It means we’re alive to what’s going on around us.

Experiencing an anxiety for what are the apparent stresses of life is a typical human response that’s helped best when we simply see that anxiety is the explicable response.

Only when we see that how we’re responding has rationale about it are we then in a position to respond adequately to challenge and change our response to the situation.

This is about facing the truth first and foremost.  The humility to face truth is always the first step.  It’s the very first thing we can and should do in every endeavour in life.

The problem we have is in our shying away from the truth, and if we’re honest, we’ll see how often we do that.  We’ll see the ways we do it.  And if we enquire a bit further, we might find out WHY we do it.  The whys of life are so critically important.

There’s no shame in being fearful, in being overwhelmed in sorrow, in shedding tears and many of them, just as there’s no shame in not knowing why we’re all at sea emotionally.

Situational anxiety begs to be understood, which is simply about exploring the WHY of the anxiety—not through judgement but through curiosity.  It’s like this: it’s not, “Damn you, Anxiety, I hate feeling weak, vulnerable, pathetic,” but it’s more, “Well I’m anxious, and this anxiety MEANS something, and I want to find out because I’m on a journey of discovery about myself.”

Nullifying situational anxiety’s not about shoving it down and spreading a rug over it to pretend it doesn’t exist.  Such methods do not work.

Nullifying situational anxiety’s about acknowledging it to begin with.  Have you ever thought that to truly know yourself you have to SEE you?  Putting it into the first person, if I wish to be at peace with myself, I must SEE the truth of what I’m dealing with—the full unabashed truth about how things actually are—and then just face it.

This is a one-step process: nullify situational anxiety by acknowledging it, being attentive to it.  Not by wishing it away.  Not by facing it and then running from it.  It’s about attending to the situational anxiety and being present with it as long as required.

Sometimes, rather than wishing it away, it’s about saying, “This anxiety is here for a good reason, and I understand.”  What the little boy and little girl inside us need most of all is for us to say to ourselves, “I’ll stay here with you (me) through this however long it takes.”

Realistically, anxiety cannot be wished away, but we can bear it just by being present with ourselves, and seeking the support from others that’s needed, offered, and available.

Bearing anxiety is the way to nullify it.  Its effects may still be there, and we won’t like it, but by being present with ourselves in it, we can find a way in our situational anxiety to experience a situational joy, hope, even peace.

There’s always space to learn the hard way

Not all the lessons in life are learned the hard way, but many of them are.  And that’s okay.  It’s got to be.  It’s got to be okay because we will all learn the hard way from time to time.

Well, it’s hoped that we’ll learn!

One thing I’ll never forget hearing from former Australian cricket captain, Ian Chappell, was, “You learn much more from a loss than you do from a win.”  It’s something we all forget, and we hate—of course.  The pain of loss is a stinging insult to our pride and craving for comfort.  None of us is saved from this.  We’ll never get used to losing out or missing out.

The key truth I want to expound here is something I could have only learned from my wife, but actually my parents had showed me this in my formative years too.

It’s a truth we experience from how others treat us.  Just like others can traumatise us with their tyranny, others can bless us with their wisdom.  Thankfully, we can all think of people who have sown the message of hope into us.

The thing my wife does is she will advise something and just leave it.  When I don’t adopt the wisdom she offers, she doesn’t tell me “I told you so” when things go pear-shaped.  It’s like she knows and accepts that the arduous less of learning the hard way is enough.  I mean, she might mention it, but she doesn’t rub it in.

Case in point.  Three weeks ago, we were on a camping holiday weekend when a colleague sent out an SOS for someone to cover her on-call period.  I’m always keen to offer to help.  When I said yes, I didn’t really think I’d be deployed on my son’s ninth birthday, but you guessed it, my wife thought that there was a good chance of it occurring (I’m much more a risk taker than she is).

She probably even said something to that effect (you see, I can’t even recall it, which is part of the problem).

When I got the call that someone needed to go, though I was of course prepared and willing, I offered the deployment to others in my team—to give them first refusal—but when we looked at it as a team it was obvious that others couldn’t or shouldn’t be released but that I could and therefore should go.

Not a problem.  You’re not on call to not be called upon to deploy.

But as I arrived at my son’s ninth birthday, it was so HARD not being there for it and for him.  I know he REALLY misses me.  I REALLY miss him.  BUT the point is, it’s a hard lesson.

This is the wisdom: leave space for a person to learn the hard way, that is, it’s good that we don’t resent it or them for not listening to us.

There needs to be space made for all of us to learn our lessons the hard way without being chided about it.  It’s hard enough learning the hard way.  The hard way should be sufficient pain in and of itself for us to learn.  

I know, however, that many people don’t learn the hard way, they keep repeating it, or as the old Proverbs 26:11 says: “As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.”

We can’t talk people into important life lessons that they themselves can’t convince themselves of.

But it’s good to give space for a person to learn the lesson for what the lesson’s worth.

Unfortunately, in my case my son must learn the hard way at his expense, yet he’s also learning how to endure loss, which is not altogether a bad thing.  But it still warrants an apology and the compensation of time made up.

But still, there’s always space to learn the hard way.  There has to be.  We’re all destined to immersed in such lessons.

Building Fences that Bring Freedom

Building fences that bring freedom.  Doesn’t sound very friendly or loving, does it?  But perhaps it’s the only way to love someone in a certain situation.

Sometimes what keeps us in the game of love are boundaries that make continued connection possible.  If it weren’t for learning and application of learned wisdom, there might not be a relationship.

Divorce stands as a presentation of the reality of toxic elements that force a conclusion.  Ask many people who’ve been through divorce, and we’d hear many stories of years of bearing with another before the decision to break came.

Thankfully we no longer live in a day where divorce is frowned upon carte blanche, for God permits divorce, and not just for those “hard of heart,” for example, the men in ancient times who would “put away” their wives for burning the dinner.

Thankfully society more and more these days understands that it’s intolerable for a person to endure domestic and family violence—which is not always overtly physical, and many times isn’t.  Threats of terror can occur and there will never be a single bruise.  Yes, it’s still abuse.

We can and need to build fences that bring freedom in the relationship where the other person drives the agenda and permits no freedom.  Or when we know we have no voice.  Or when we feel anxious around the person.  Or with anyone we just don’t feel comfortable with.  And we don’t always need to be able to explain a gut feeling.

The matter of building a fence that’ll bring freedom is not just something we’re wise to do, it’s also something that those closest to us often need us to do.

Where there are dysfunctional dynamics that we cannot shift or control, we need to do something to restore the relational balance.  We need our empowerment not simply to enjoy life; we need it to survive.

How do we build a fence in the right circumstance to bring us and others the freedom that’s needed?

Maybe these suggestions might help:

1.             Identify the person or people that cause us distress, and study how they tend to operate to exploit our vulnerabilities—assuming it’s deliberate

2.             Identify the opportunities they take, and how they swoop on those opportunities

3.             Try to be and stay curious, resisting an emotional response (which would be understandable), preferring instead to be as objective as possible.  This helps us see and assess what we need to

4.             Accept that building a fence will be the best way to maintain what is needed from the relationship—comprehending that one person’s actions shouldn’t be able to harm others without there being recourse for appropriate defence and protection

5.             Think about the situations we’ve endured, and try to understand what worked in our response from what didn’t work—to do more of what worked and to do less of what didn’t

6.             Think about the situations that are coming up in the near future.  If any of these are really concerning and anxiety-inducing, can we seek support or mentoring?

7.             It’s beneficial for us to have answers prepared in advance if the person we’re building distance with tells us they’ve noticed a difference.  Be wary of being truthful.  That might sound wrong but being truthful is a vulnerability works against us in some relationships

8.             Overall, we try to anticipate what might come and our possible responses to problematic behaviour without committing to a course of action because there are always nuances in the moment that must be catered for

9.             The more we stand apart from ourselves, the more perspective we’ll have, the more empowered we’ll feel, especially in vulnerable situations—again, we can try to be more curious and hence objective

10.          Whenever we do react, instead of responding, instead of getting down on ourselves, we’re best to simply ask, “What can I learn from this situation?”

We can remember that boundaries exist for a reason.  They provide safety in situations that are clearly unsafe.  Boundaries come about as a response to poor behaviour.  They’re never an initiation activity.  They’re always an activity of responding to what we cannot change.

Building a fence doesn’t sound a nice thing to do in a relational context, but we need to remember we didn’t start this.  The other person did.  Boundaries make it possible that there would even be a semblance of continuing relationship.

Love is patient... and kind... and generous...

I’ve been fascinated by this phenomenon for a long time.  Words are easy, just as words are cheap.  We all tend to over promise and under deliver.  It really impacts our relationships.

When you’ve got a loved one who’s not loved by another loved one, and vice versa—because let’s face it, love is a reciprocal venture—no matter how much you’ve encouraged both, it’s exasperating.  Of course, putting it differently, neither is prepared to reach out and love the other—which is to give a form of care and compassion WITHOUT expecting something in return.

Why can’t both work it out that they don’t just harm each other by refusing to make the first step, they hurt others who are in the middle of it all just as much.  That’s right, failures to love ripple out into others’ lives, the distance and the hurt intensifies into others’ lives.

People can be much more focused on what they’ll get from love than what they can give, never realising that the only true freedom any of us have in this life is to CHOOSE to love.

The only true freedom in life is to give 
without any expectation of getting.

Choosing to love, despite what will be returned to us, is the ultimate sign that we GET the secret of life.

Jesus didn’t say, “A new [and final] command I give you; love one another,” just because it sounded like a good idea.  He said it because loving others is a power that will not only change our lives, but it will change the world, and not least it will change OUR world—those relationships in our immediate lives.

The nuance I want to raise in this article is that in being patient and kind and generous, etc, we’re not only blessing the person we give our patience, kindness, and generosity.  We very much bless everyone connected with that person, those who are connected to us, and anyone else who witnesses such action-oriented care.

It’s important to understand that our behaviour—loving and unloving—ripples into others’ lives whether we like it or not.  And what I mean most about that is, these others have no control over whether we love or don’t love.

Whether we’re gentle or angry, others can’t impact our behaviour.

Whether we’re kind or cruel, others can’t impact our behaviour.

Whether we’re generous or stingy, others can’t impact our behaviour.

Others must deal with the consequences of our behaviour.

If we’re in relationships with people and we do not cross the bridge toward them, they won’t cross the bridge toward us, and never the twain shall meet.  It’s our fault as much as it is theirs.

But if we take the initiative to be patient and kind and generous, etc, and don’t expect them to reciprocate, we have crossed to the bridge toward them.  If they don’t reciprocate, that’s on them, it’s a discredit to them; it’s no discredit to us.

But we don’t hold it against them.  Our job is to keep loving no matter what, and do you know why?

When we act in lovingly patient, kind and generous ways, WE heal, we’re restored, our hearts are kept healthy, and everyone sees the power of love that emanates out of our life.

When we finally understand that the nature of love is blessing on the one who loves, we have no problem at all investing in the wisdom of love.  Love works for us, just as the love of giving without expectation of getting blesses us.

It’s not really about the other person and their response or lack thereof.

Spirituality’s paradox – graduating from the school of brokenness

“You couldn’t heal because you kept pretending you weren’t hurt,” was the premise of the last article.

What are the reasons people avoid the healing journey?  Sometimes it’s because their environment isn’t conducive; they don’t have ready support.  Sometimes it seems the ease of denial is more palatable than the intense discomfort of learning a new thing.  And, of course, there’s a lot of trust required in saying bye-bye to one way of living in faith that another way of living that hasn’t come yet will indeed come to fruition.

To heal is to risk.  It’s to take a hard, less-travelled road; a path that so very few take.

Here’s where the one presented with the opportunity to heal approaches an absolute paradox:

Go the hard-easy way or go the easy-hard way.

There is no other option;
no other choice is presented.

“God has a university.  It’s a small school.
Few enrol; even fewer graduate.
Very, very few indeed.”
—Gene Edwards, The Tale of Three Kings

If anyone is to enrol and graduate, may it be you!

THE EASY-HARD WAY – THE WAY MOST GO...

So many people, numbering I’d think in the high 98 percentile, take the easy-hard road.

They delay the discomfort offered to forge a path of healing.  They delay and most inevitably never join that journey that would revive their hope, and indeed would offer them a hope they’ve probably never had.  But the cost is a significant delay in gratification—but that’s the skill you learn in this.

They delay because of the many forces that seem to be or are against them.  They may have little or no support.  They may feel they don’t have either the energy or the time.  But it is still possible because God makes the impossible possible when we have faith.

It’s the easy-hard way because it’s easier initially, but it’s tragically hard in the medium and longer term.  The easy-hard way is the waste of a plethora of opportunities to repent and turn to a healing anyone can have.

THE HARD-EASY WAY – THE WAY FEW GO...

Going the hard-easy way inevitably requires an immense amount of courage and humility, each day, one day at a time, sustained throughout the journey.

Perfection isn’t required, for there will be many days throughout the process where overwhelming fatigue and despair will dominate.  Neither fatigue nor despair ought however have the final say.

The main thing is having faith enough to trust that tomorrow might be better.

The hard-easy way does what is hard now in faith that what is easier lies ahead.  Just the confidence alone for having done the right thing is often enough.  The thought that against the odds we’ve done an inspiring thing.

And once such a victory is won, that victory over self to a life that can be overcome in Jesus’ strength alone is ours.  It can never be taken from us.

~

To be honest, the hard-easy way is never truly easy, but the life lived on the other side of the delayed gratification of sacrifice is spiritual victory; an incredibly surreal easiness best described as P-E-A-C-E.

Spiritual victory is something that everyone should experience, for once you’ve been to such a personal mountaintop, few turn back to mediocrity.  And the incredible thing about spiritual victory is the poorer of spirit we are, the more spiritual victory we stand to experience.

If this doesn’t make sense to us, and on face value it won’t, we haven’t experienced the truer spirituality available in brokenness.  Again, so few do.

Many, many Christians with platforms have either never experienced brokenness or (as is the case for many of us) haven’t sustained such a life—because life’s become too easy.

To heal or not to heal; this is life’s perennial spiritual question for all of us to answer.

~

Graduating from the school of brokenness comes at the end of a hard-easy journey.  When there’s nothing left to prove to anyone and nothing more to gain than simply being, we’ve come to a place where truly nothing can defeat us—that’s the kingdom of heaven.

Grief demands recompense for loss

Life is all about relationships, and it’s through relationships our lives are made meaningful.  Even if that relationship is with self or God alone, to the exclusion of all others, it’s still relational.

I heard the story of a mother who gave birth to a crying infant, who immediately settled when he was placed on her naked chest.  Skin for skin, every human being needs human connection and when that’s not possible in the preferred of ways, that humanity seeks recompense.

That baby did what that mother needed him to do — crave her and be met by her.

Trauma is created when the normal design of the relational life is interrupted — when a human is failed and betrayed by another human, or when a human does something detestable to another human, or when a human sees or hears or experiences what is relationally overwhelming.

The recompense for loss that is unrequited is the trauma of grief.

What can’t be redeemed must be grieved.  Yet in grief what is sought is the redemption of loss.  The relationship we lost must be compensated by other relationships.

This explains why we rebound; why we ‘land’ in another relationship so soon after one ends without warning or ends more abruptly than we expected.  What we crave we cannot live without — but rebound whether for death or divorce or other reason so often ends in misery.  Little wonder, we’re so vulnerable.  Yet occasionally soulmates are made through tragedies of loss.

In loss, our reliance on those close to us increases significantly.  It’s only when there’s a scarcity of support or we don’t reach out for it that we really struggle to ultimately recover.  And if our ‘support’ is corrosive or we reach for a substance or addictive practice, our trauma is redoubled because the recompense our soul seeks continues to elude us.

The task of recovery from loss involves grieving our grief, and this is the way we heal.  The recompense is finding another way to achieve the connection we crave — principally, that is human soul meeting human soul, and it is also possible through the divine.

I think of a family who lost their husband and father far earlier than they should have.  It was a slow burn of ambiguous loss that both complicated their grief but also prepared them for what lay ahead.  Yet, of three persons, each grieves significantly differently, and that too must be respected.

Every significant change in our lives involves loss that demands a grieving.

When we talk “resilience” this is actually what we’re talking about.  We become resilient through bearing the long season of loss in the hope we’ll recover — and we do if we don’t give up along the way.  The journey to recovery demands faith, fuelled by a hope we’ll arrive.

Grief demands a recompense and if only we can view loss as a cosmic lack of connection, we’ll reach out to connect with others and ourselves and the divine in ways we find redemptive.  Often this involves a search, and often it requires acceptance, for the recompense we seek is a long bridge to cross, for who can compensate for the one we’ve lost?

Grief is what we might explain is the gap between what we had and what we lost.

5 lessons on welcome and inclusion from a 5-minute visit somewhere strange

We went to visit an Est. 1870 flour mill in the town we’re staying at, and then decided to roam further.  From across the road, we could see a sign, “Woodturning Demonstrations – Visitors Welcome,” so we crossed the street curious to see what we could.

As we walked down the laneway, Sarah said to me, “It’s got to be similar to metal turning, doesn’t it?”  “A little,” I said.  We kept walking.  We felt people on both sides of us staring a little but thought no more of it, I guess because we were together and distracted by each other’s presence.

We scanned in and sanitised, wondering where the woodturning was.  Apart from the signage on the street, there was no other indication of what was happening.  People everywhere, looking at us, but nobody came to talk to us or welcome us.  Bizarre.  We kept walking in and through the left into a hall, when our son’s thong (footwear, not underwear) snapped, and I quickly fixed it for him.

We looked around the hall and there was a woodturning exhibition on the stage, and the floor was set out in physically distanced chairs.  Everyone we could see had club shirts and name badges on.  At this point, a man approached us and asked if we were members?  Feeling decidedly NOT welcome at this point, we deduced it was some kind of conference we were gate crashing, and they were all on a break.

Here are some lessons I could see from this 5-minute sojourn somewhere strange:

1.              BE ESPECIALLY WELCOMING OF PEOPLE WHO COME ALONE

If I’d have walked down the laneway alone and experienced the stares and lack of welcome it would have been a starker experience, and I would’ve felt chased out before I’d even entered.

One thing we need to recognise in welcoming people is people feel at least a little more protected when they’re already with friends.  This means a welcome to those who visit or come alone needs to be especially poignant.

We’re social creatures and when we’re alone we do feel more self-conscious than if we’re with others.

2.             IF YOU WANT TO BE WELCOMING, MAKE IT EASY FOR PEOPLE

The lack of welcome from the people who were obviously woodturners was one thing, but the lack of signage or indication of where to go or what to do, in retrospect, left us feeling like we didn’t know what the norms were.

Everyone needs help to know what behaviour is expected in any given environment.  The signage needs to be clear, or people feel vulnerable, unable to comply.

When people don’t know the norms of behaviour expected, where there are no ostensible boundaries, anxiety increases.  People by and large want (need) to know what to do, especially in social settings.

3.             PLAN FOR WHEN SOMEONE ARRIVES WHO FEELS UNWELCOME

In advance, anyone who wants to prepare a place where people feel welcome need to anticipate when something will happen for newcomers or strangers that leaves them feeling like a fish out of water.

How will someone who doesn’t yet feel at home in an otherwise strange environment find their feet?  How will they be set at ease as if they’re the important one—because the one who feels vulnerable has needs to be served in this instance.

If someone arrives, and they find they’re in the wrong place, how will we be kind and provide hospitality anyway?

4.             THE MORE FORMAL THE SETTING, THE BETTER THE WELCOME NEEDED

Because everyone at the venue seemed to be attired differently to us visitors, we felt even more isolated.  It wasn’t until we entered that we realised it was a formal conference, but we were in there suddenly, without an efficient ‘get out’ clause.

When our functions or meetings are set out formally, there needs to be more formal arrangements for welcoming people, especially for those who walk into the wrong place.

All of these ‘walk ins’ are opportunities for incredibly unexpected conversations.  Get it right, and we make connections where there would have been awkwardness.  Socially, it’s not the best when there’s awkwardness, yet it’s okay provided we’ve planned for it.

5.             QUESTIONS TO ASK WHEN SOMEONE MIGHT BE LOST

We weren’t lost, and it was clear during the visit that it was something other than we thought it was.  Instead of being asked if we were members, a better question might simply be, “How are you today?”

One of the most important ways we build connection is by simply ‘being’ with a person in friendly, equal conversation for a few minutes or ten.  Only after this is it okay to ask a question that means, “Do you belong here?” (When you’re rapidly coming to the conclusion that you don’t).  Oftentimes, with a little warm-up time, that question gets answered without even needing to ask it.

~

Nobody at this woodturning event was rude to us.  Nobody threw us out even though we weren’t meant to be there.  Nobody was especially unfriendly to us.

They didn’t need to for us to feel awkward about that 300-second period of our lives.

There was no offence taken, but it did strike me, the opportunities to provide welcoming hospitality... and not.  As soon as we walked out, I felt a little excited because I could see the parallels for church and any other endeavour of connection making.