This blog post contains subject matter that may make you uncomfortable.
Reader discretion is advised.
This is the second Sunday in a row that an older lady has sat next to me
and chatted pretty much nonstop for about 15 minutes or so. I think each of
these encounters has been more of a monologue than a conversation. I'll meet
the lady, and then she'll download a large portion of her life story to me and
weave in some unsolicited advice. Perhaps if I had signed up for a mentoring
program and/or had introduced myself to the lady and tried to initiate a
conversation with her and/or had gotten to talking to her over a period of
several conversations, I would have relished this type of monologue. However,
these ladies unfortunately didn't give me a choice in whether or not I would
relish their monologue, their wisdom, or their company.
I was inconvenienced each time -- the first at church when I needed to
leave and find some dinner to soak up the generic DayQuil swimming around in my
empty belly, and the second at the beautiful coin laundromat when I needed to
unload my wrinkling comforter from the dryer. Each conversation started out
with me thinking something to the effect of, "Oh, wow, these must be the
nursing-mother queens that God promised me in Isaiah 49!" but then turned
into, "Oh, crap, they're not asking me questions about myself, or trying
to get to know me, or even stopping for breath. And they're forcing their
advice on me. I don't feel safe anymore. I can barely even hear God's
instructions on what to do over their prattle. I need to escape!" I understand
that listening to a person is definitely a way of loving that person. I
understand what it's like to feel lonely and about to explode with all kinds of
neat stuff to share with people, and suddenly you find an audience, and their
listening faces look better to you than a loaded tree on Christmas morning. But
I also understand what it's like to be taken advantage of. I understand what
it's like to have your time and energy stolen. I understand what it's like to
be stifled, forced, and silenced in an unhealthy way.
"Have you found honey? Eat only as much as you need, lest you be
filled with it and vomit. Seldom set foot in your neighbor's house, lest he
become weary of you and hate you." (Proverbs 25:16-17)
Lately, I've been wrestling with this idea that I've heard from church
people. If I'm quoting it correctly, it's "You're as healthy as who you
attract." From what I understand, the idea is that if you're an unhealthy
person, you'll attract unhealthy people. If you're used to being abused, and if
abuse is your normal way of life, then you'll attract abusers. If you're
miserable, you'll attract miserable people. If you're emotionally healthy,
you'll attract emotionally healthy people. And of course, to a degree, that's
true.
But what about Jesus? He's the most healthy Person who ever lived, and
He attracted all sorts of people. He wants everybody to be attracted to Him.
And yet, He seems to have repelled unhealthy people such as the Pharisees, and
He was quite vocal in exposing their hypocrisy. He wasn't self-righteous, so, from what I understand, He
didn't attract the self-righteous people.
So, I've been taking a bit of an inventory of my life. The friends I've
been attracting lately have personalities that are similar to mine, so I'm very
cool with that. I don't have a problem with that.
I've been attracting no men whatsoever. So, if -- romantically speaking
-- I'm attracting nobody, that seems to be a major indication that I have major
self-worth issues. If I think I'm worthless, I'll attract nothing. (If I think
I'm worth being attracted to, I'll probably attract somebody who sees my
worth.) Sounds terrible, but it's a majorly important thing for me to be aware
of.
In my past, I attracted married men. This was absolutely NOT something
I intended, and this was definitely NOT something I wanted. (This is also why I
avoid "the appearance of evil" like the plague.) I understand now
that the abuse I endured wasn't my fault at all, but I also understand that
there was something regarding a familiar/familial spirit that I needed to get
rid of. It's gone, and I don't have to beat away dirty old men with a stick
anymore. (Also, ladies, if I happen to be sitting or standing near your
husbands and I scooch my chair away from him or take a step away from him, he
doesn't stink. He's taken. Or perhaps I still have some old defense mechanisms
that I need to examine.)
Then there were these weird flirtatious conversations or incidences I
had with women who made me feel uncomfortable and unsafe. Those were also
unintentional and unwanted incidences that I seem to have attracted. (I hope those weren't all my fault, either.) And those
occurred before I fully allowed God to uproot some same-sex issues that I'd
been carrying around inside me that I didn't know were still there. But from
what I understand, those issues are gone now, and so are the questionable
flirtatiousnesses.
But I still have these random, unplanned, unintentional, unwanted
episodes of "Hello, nice-listener person, I will sit here and chew your
ear off without any warning whatsoever." The two episodes I described at
the beginning of this post were only the two most recent ones in my life. This
has happened before. I've also had friendships/relationships like this. I'm not
talking about having a very long conversation with a friend who I want to be
close to. I'm not talking about listening to a good friend tell their story for
a long time, and then rescheduling another time when I can get together with my
friend so I can hear more of my friend's story. I'm not talking about something
that blesses me. I'm talking about something that feels like it's trying to
infiltrate its way into my life again, latch on, suck hard, and accelerate my
inner decomposition. And lately, it's come from people who I possibly may
never see again.
Reader, if you know me personally, maybe you can help me out. Is there
something about me that attracts chronic talkers? Do I have a "Unload
every opinion you've ever had right here" sign with an X tattooed to my
forehead? I don't get it. If I interrupt them during their spontaneous spiel, I
think I would be rude. If I encourage them to continue when I don't really want
them to continue, I think I would be lying. If I come right out with the raw
truth and say, "I really don't understand why you picked my ears to aim
your diarrhea mouth at. Can I please get on with my life now?" I think I
would invite a punch in the nose.
Perhaps I grew up with this pattern and am still developing the skill
of inserting "hold that thought" or "can we continue this later?"
or "forgive me, but I must leave immediately" into a torrent of
incessant speech. And I've had issues with talking too much and/or being overly
vulnerable with people who weren't really interested in my life. I want to be
approachable and friendly and loving, but I don't want to be a doormat. I mean,
enough is enough. And it's interesting that God is holding my eyelids open (Psalm
77:4) so I can see this particular issue at this point in time.
Later this week, I'm planning to attend a special church retreat where
I'm going to let God slice me open all over again and examine my stuffing.
Perhaps it will be a mellow beginning to something ecstatically new. Or perhaps
it will be a continuation of what He's already been doing inside me. Or perhaps
I'll collapse onto the floor in a pile of my own snot and tears. Who knows? But
I'm expecting Him to help me become a little bit healthier. Hopefully I'll
start attracting people who are a little bit healthier for me than the
spontaneously chronic diarrhea talkers. But I'm looking forward to listening to
God and letting Him chew my ear off about whatever He wants. He's safe, and He
wants to make sure that I feel safe.
The photo I put at the beginning of this post has absolutely nothing to
do with this post. I just thought this post should have a photo. That is a
picture of my little mixed Siamese cat, whom I call Choochie. Choochie isn't
her real name, but that's what I tend to call her, among other things. It's a
nickname. She has other nicknames, too. Do you have any pets? If you ever get a
pet, you should give it at least one nickname. Well, one problem that I have
with my Choochie is that she is a strong-willed little cat. What a beloved
little thing, and what a stubborn little thing. There's this spot in my living
room behind my TV set where she's small enough to fit, but she's not allowed to
go in there, because there are electrical cords back there, but she still
sneaks inside there anyway. You know, if you ever get a cat, you should catproof
your entire home. It's like having a child. It isn't like owning a dog, because
a dog will do whatever you train it to do, but a cat is strong-willed and
stubborn and-- Hey, reader, where are you going?!? I'm still venting!!
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