Walk Gently Among Your Fellow Humans

One of the most interesting (and best) pieces of advice on relationships I ever read was this:  Imagine the person with whom you contend as an infant or a very elderly individual.  

Try it. 

Pick someone who rubs you the wrong way every which way to Sunday and think about him or her as a tiny baby or a frail and feeble grandparent. 

I’ll wait.  

Did you feel some of the hostility melt away when the image of your “thorn in the flesh” as a helpless human came into focus?

It works every time for me.  It doesn’t mean that I won’t have to address any underlying issues between me and whoever.  But it does tame the mean and vengeful out of me.

It makes me tender when I talk to a friend or family member about a testy topic.  It helps me be kind to the cashier who has picked now to count out her drawer just as it’s my turn after I’ve been waiting in a long line.  It moderates my reaction from road rage to a more appropriate and safe, “Oh, well!” when cut off in traffic.

It makes it easier for me to be gentle. 

Gentle:  1. having or showing a mild, kind or tender, temperament or character; 2.  moderate in action, effect or degree; not harsh or severe.

~Google Dictionary

Truth is we are surrounded every day by people who are one unkind word away from falling apart.  We drive down the highway with strangers whose lives are filled with pain.  We work and eat and worship and play with folks who carry wounds we know nothing about.

walk gently tree bark

I don’t have to understand everything about someone to appreciate that there is more than meets the eye.  All of us have scars and secrets, stress and strain, unmet needs and unseen struggles. 

So I try to give the benefit of the doubt, assume the best, extend grace, be humble, choose love.  

I want to walk gently among my fellow humans.  

At minimum I hope to do no harm.  At best I hope to encourage another heart to hang on and keep trying.  Most of the time I probably fall somewhere in between.  

be soft

 

 

 

 

Living Gentle Lives

One of the things grief is teaching me is that I too often walk through the world like an angry giant, stomping around without any care as to where my large footprints land and what they crush underneath.  I am intent on pursuing MY agenda, MY “to do” list, getting to My appointment or paying for MY groceries and heaven help the one who gets in my way.

I don’t want to be like that.

I want to be like Jesus.

I want to be gentle.

A broken reed He will not break [off] And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish [He will not harm those who are weak and suffering]; He will faithfully bring forth justice.

Isaiah 42:3  AMP

Jesus rested securely in the truth that His Father was near, that His Father had things under control and that His Father would redeem and was redeeming every little thing.

He was not anxious about outcomes.  He didn’t have to prove anything or fight for status or control.  He was completely free.  

When I lean into the truth that God is My Abba Father and that He will and is redeeming every little thing in my life as well, I am equally free.  

I don’t have to step on someone else to step up.  I don’t have to put out someone else’s light so mine shines brighter.

My position is secured by the blood of Jesus.  My light is the love of Christ shed abroad in my heart.

It’s ALL a gift.

It’s all GRACE.

It’s my privilege to live gently, be kind and give freely what has been given to me.  

a candle loses nothing by lighting another candle