"There's a Monkey In My Coffee Cup!"

Today, I stumbled on this picture on the right. I thought it was really cute - the things people can do with that stuff! But, I thought it rightly portrayed a certain problem that I've encountered during this hard period of my life. When people attempt to offer empathy, offer that "cup of coffee" for consolation, I've often times been shocked to find a monkey inside. No! I am not calling anyone a primate. I'm talking about attitude. Instead of being serious, sometimes people feel as though they need to joke around

in order to make the person feel better. Make light of life, trying desperately to steer things away from the more serious matters that they might be facing.

When you're hurting, and you're down - talking about the weather, or your latest shopping trip really isn't going to cheer you up. It's monkey talk. It's tip-toeing around issues so that people don't have to really deal with your problems. It's a way for the other person to stay safe, by hiding behind frivolous conversation so they don't have to get their hands dirty. Even when meant kindly, pretending is the worst way to come alongside of a hurting person.

Lately I've been reading an amazing book. It's written by an inspiring and godly couple - "Captivating", by John and Stasi Eldridge. In this one particular chapter, John writes:

"Stasi and I had gathered with the men and women in our ministry who do the mens and womens retreats. The mens team wanted to offer our counsel and support and prayer to the womens team for their upcoming event. It was a chance for the women - and each of them are really, really amazing women, to just sort of open their hearts to us and process how things were going.
Our gathering moved rather quickly from the external kinds of issues - how long the sessions should be and logistical stuff like that - to the the internal world of the women's team themselves.
As we began to talk more intimately, something started coming over me. Just a sense, an inexplicable but strong impression:
back off.
That's what I felt. No one said it, nothing they were doing implied it, it wasn't a voice in my head. Just a very strong impression. I wasn't sure where it was coming from, but this strong reluctance, this sense of maybe we shouldn't press further into this, this feeling of just "back off" was growing in me, or over me, every moment that we moved more deeply into their lives.
With every step we took toward their hearts, I felt a stronger impression to end the conversation, withdraw, bail out.

. . . Back off. "leave her alone" or "you don't really want to go there, she'll be too much for you" is something Satan has set against every woman from the day of her birth. It's the emotional and spiritual equivalent of leaving a little girl by the side of the road to die."

Isn't this powerful? And isn't it true? As selfish human beings, when we are confronted with another person's problem, we automatically default to the mindset of "it's not my deal! If I get too deep into this, it's going to be too much for me . . . "

Back off. Leave her alone. You don't really want to go there, she'll be too much for you.

Our minds are tricky. We don't think we're being selfish. Sometimes our reasoning is, "if we just make light conversation, it will make this person feel better. It will relieve them from their hurt" When in reality, this is just an excuse that we use to draw ourselves away from any transmittable pain.

The point of this post, is to encourage you. When you see a hurting person, instead of bounding up to them with a huge smile and funny stories to tell, take the time to humbly ask, "how are you doing?" Don't be afraid to go there. Don't be afraid to listen and respond to their hurt.

I myself have been greatly blessed by those I have invested time in. Those I have gone to in all seriousness, to help them out of their funk. I have truly seen God work during those times when the silliness is gone, and sincerity takes its place. Of course there is a time for fun and laughter . . . But the fun and laughter should never be a shield that we hold up, resulting from our "back off" mindsets. It's easy to ignore problems, and run the other way. But sometimes, it's more appropriate to offer coffee - without the monkey.

~Lauren Lee

Way too much coffee. But if it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever. ~David Letterman

Be a coffee-drinking individual - espresso yourself! ~Author Unknown

I never drink coffee at lunch. I find it keeps me awake for the afternoon. ~Ronald Reagan

Invisible Hugs

Recently I was reading a paper by 17 year old Amanda Lynn Geesey. She was describing her feelings as the effects of not having a father took it’s toll:

Lord, the pain is too much to bear! I can't take this anymore; I have to get out. I tried to get his attention once before with the anorexia but he did not care then, so why would he care if I was alive or dead. Well, at least the pain will be gone. My heart hurts, there is no one to care, no one to love me. He left without a word, without a tear. He did not call on my birthday. He even misspelled my name on the first Christmas present he ever sent, and there was only one of those. His checks are supposed to buy his love, yet he never even sends them! He probably does not even remember my name, I know he does not know my hair color, eye color, whether or not I am tall or short, fat or skinny. God, I just pray I don't look or act anything like him.

People don't get it! They just make things worse! They criticize me and say "I am not right with God," because I miss my dad, yet in the same sense I hate him. Their lives are not perfect so why do they pick on me? I did not choose my life, but I can choose to end it. They say let God be my "Dad" well, I would like to see them try it. God cannot reach down and give me the hug I so desperately need and tell me that I am loved. My dad never told me that; he never said I was pretty or smart. He always wants to blame me for any "bad" thing that happens in his life though.

… When I try to reach out all I receive is rejection, so let's get it over with! I don't care about them or my dad, I hate him! Where is God now? Even God has rejected me and forgotten even about my existence.

Wow. Although I cannot relate in full to the extent of her situation, being fatherless myself I understand where she’s coming from. This was exactly what I was going through during the first couple months after he moved out. All of my friends were telling me, “I’m praying for you . . . Lauren just trust in God!” Like it was SO easy! My feelings echoed hers exactly . . . God can’t physically sit beside me and wrap his arms around me. He can’t comfort me!

I was right. He couldn’t comfort me in the way I felt like I needed to be comforted. But He eventually showed me that He could do it so much better than that. Amanda went on to say:

Until recently this is exactly how I felt. I still struggle with feelings of abandonment, hurt and distrust of men. God has proven Himself faithful though and has showed me that He is loving, forgiving, caring and that not only am I in the palm of His hand but my name is willingly engraved on the palm of His hand that I will never be forgotten.

Her testimony, going from thinking that God abandon her to coming to the point of trusting Him and putting her life in the palm of His hand, truly ministered to me. It is such a beautiful encouragement.

One day, I will be able to sit in the physical presence of my heavenly Father. What a day that will be! For now, I can only look forward to that time. It is that hope which sustains me. One of my favorite movies of all time is “a Walk to Remember.” In it, Jamie, a modest, Christian girl, defines faith in one of the best ways I’ve heard it put. “It’s like the wind. I can’t see it, but I can feel it.” Until that day when I enter into the Lords court, I won’t be able to see Him. But nothing hinders the feeling of his love.

Psalm 147:3 says: "He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds". Young ladies, please be comforted by this. No matter what your situation might be; an absent father, being hurt by a friend, the death of a loved one, an argumentative home environment . . . God surpasses it all, and is able to comfort even though He does not physically manifest Himself to us. The knowledge of His comfort should make us content, and develop our yearning expectation for the day we will one day see Him face to face. Lets embrace Him back when He offers those invisible hugs.

~Lauren Lee

"The Lord is near to those that have a broken heart, and he saves those who have a contrite spirit" (Psalm 34:18)

Amanda Geesey's Paper "The Importance of Fathers in the Home" http://www.cpyu.org/Page.aspx?id=77180

Or. Of course. If you STILL think you need to FEEL a hug (to lighten the mood a little).

Thanks To Carlotta's blog for this! :D VERY funny. Made me laugh.

But, But I Don't Like To Cry!

I really don’t. I hardly ever let anyone see me cry. And if there is one thing you will never catch Lauren Lee doing, it is crying in public.

I suppose yesterday was an exception to that rule.

Seated in a Denny’s booth across the table from my father, everything came out . . . Noah’s flood all over again. Now, upon recalling that episode, how terribly embarrassing it was! Although – at the time, I didn’t really care who saw me. I’m afraid that was quite evident; for when the poor waitress came to see if we needed any refills, my attempt at politeness, “NO, thank you” in-between sniffles came out a bit more hostile than intended . . . The unsuspecting soul was quite taken by surprise and scuffled herself back to the kitchen.

It was as if all the weight in the world had just been lowered on my shoulders. Not all at once – but slowly. It was a prolonged torture that finally came to a climax. A slow inflammation of my feelings that eventually led to an outbreak of raw emotion. I hated myself then … For I had sworn to myself many, many times . . . If anyone were to see me cry, my father would be the last man on earth to have that satisfaction. The worst part of it all was that I knew that by crying, my Dad felt some level of control. Control over my emotions. This is a terrible thing to say … a terrible thing to live with. But when he sees his children cry, he doesn’t feel badly . . . he feels powerful. Sitting across that table, he didn’t do anything or say anything to share my feelings, or release me from my obvious misery. His face was cold, a look that had harshness written all over it. When I finally came to my senses, I picked my head up out of my hands and looked at his expression. It was as if I could see right past his flesh into his thoughts . . . His face seemed to read, “What a bother.” This made me cry even more . . . the fact that I couldn’t even cry in front of my own Dad.

Lets go on a rabbit trail for a moment . . .

Aren’t we all guilty of turning the cold shoulder to a person in need? Perhaps not to such an extreme as with my Dad … But Instead of “bearing one another’s burdens” (Galations 6:2) we shrink away from the pain? Empathy is just too … inconvenient. Can’t we just leave it to someone else out there?

No!

It is commanded of us all throughout the Bible that we are to be compassionate to the hurting, and extend helping hands to those who are suffering. Though this situation with my Dad has been extremely painful, it has definitely taught me this, if anything: weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says: Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” I believe that God truly has given me these hard times to teach me to cry with other people. To let it out. To weep with them. To understand what they’re going through. I pray so fervently that God might use me in this way … to teach me compassion . . . and show me the lost and hurting, that his light might shine through me. Is this not what Christ did for us? He didn’t have to be tortured! He didn’t HAVE to live a life on earth! But he did – because he wanted to relate to his children, and feel their pain, living in a sinful world.

Off the rabbit trail. ;)

When we left the restaurant, I had an odd sense of peace come over me. Yes – despite the smeared mascara and red nose (the unfortunate by-products) – I wasn’t a total mess. Even though my earthly father didn’t care about my tears . . . I knew I still had a Father that did. Who welcomed me with open arms, saying: “You need a hug.” “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23, one of the most famous in the Bible, put it brilliantly … I had just walked through what seemed like Hell, but despite it all, there was still a “peace that transcends all understanding” Philippians 4:7! What a comfort … that my Father is ALWAYS there, always empathetic, always ready to listen.

Even though it was a tough day, I was finally able to rest in the comfort of my heavenly father. Though I don’t feel like I can “let it out” in front of dad, I know that the Lord, my true Father, is up there saying:

“I am a safe place for your tears . . . come, and I will cry with you.”

Lord, thank you for your compassion. When all else fails, there you are. Thank you for wrapping me in your arms with the intention of keeping me there for eternity … for being the father that I don’t have. Help me to be content in your love! Amen.

~Lauren Lee