Repelling the Superficial

I get it - I make other people uncomfortable with this blog. In fact, some of my friends have even told me so. But I also know it's a comfort to some. And hey, it's a comfort to me. I try to make everything I write real. Nothing you see here is fake. It's raw heart. If the depth is scary, I understand - hey, I'm the one writing it, remember? :)

A couple days ago I had a great talk with my Mom about the content of this post. I've never really been too judgemental of a person. If people real or superficial, I don't really know . . I try to keep an open mind and hear different sides of various issues. I know what it's like to be judged, and I would never intentionally pass it on to someone else. Yet there's something I've been noticing, and it's not a matter of judgement. It's a matter of truth.

People are, or at least they act, shallow.
The lack of real-ness seems to scream at me everywhere I turn.
I think it's easy for anyone to fall down the slope of pointlessness, only to find themselves engaging in worthless and deconstructive conversations. I don't pretend to judge that, because I've done that many times myself. I'm not talking about jokes with friends or being immature with girlfriends. That's not at all what I mean.
When I say shallow, I mean a general tendancy of people to draw away from the deep, meaningful things of life. Like they're scared that someone's hurt is contagious and will infect them as if it were a common cold or flu.

My Mom was telling me this: Pain pushes people away, especially if those people are used to easier lifestyles. Pain seems to almost bring out the superficial in others.

I've, so many times, seen my Mom's "friends" go on and on about themselves but never ask her how she's doing, almost as if they're scared that she'll spill out her whole divorce story on them or something. It's kind of ridiculous. I've concluded that there's a certain depth to people who suffer. There's a certain mystery, a certain intrigue - that makes them repulsive to the superficial. I think it's a silent warning to "step away, I don't want to get my hands dirty."

Pain?
It's a label.
It's like you're walking around with a mark on your forehead. Everybody sees it. Everybody knows. "You're carrying . . . pain. Ew."

Not necessarily because it shows, either. Unless you know me pretty well (in person) you'd never guess I've been through what I have if you met me on the street. It's rumors, gossip, assumptions that create a label. Look, it's not like I don't see it.



Why is everyone scared of pain? Why does no one want to face the reality that life can hurt? I don't understand. Pain is a part of life. You'll experience it one day. Pretending like it doesn't exist?

It doesn't work. I've tried it.

I really want to be a deep person. The type that repels the superficial. I want that emotional maturity that comes as a result of suffering. Christ cared about the things that really mattered, when he was on earth. Think about all the silly things we waste our time on. Vanity, strange ideas about love, popularity, friends, and jealousies - drama, basically - it's all really stupid once you think about it.

The purpose of our Christian lives are so much greater! Our calling lies in pain. Suffering. Empathy towards the hurting as we struggle on our own. We are called to live REAL lives. Not superficial. Suffering is such a blessing, because it yields truth. It yields an understanding into the depths of life that one can only know if he or she has experienced it first hand.

It's taken me a while to get to this place . . . But I'm finally viewing pain as something other than a shameful label.

Lord, help me to grow, help me to be the person you want me to be, shaped and molded by life's catastraphies. You are God. You are all about depth, all about the soul. Thank you for the love you show me, your superficial child.