My last days of high school are tainted by memories of working in a fruit stand. It was my third summer working there and before I started for that summer, I knew it was a wrong decision.
God had told me not to work there.
Loudly.
And I totally ignored Him.
Rebellion.
To this day, I have huge regret about not listening to my
kind heavenly father.
Because what happened in those weeks there have been repercussions that have haunted me ever since.
Being the innocent 18 year old I was,
(No joke - super innocent. Point of Grace was my favourite band.)
(Also, I went to school in Ontario when OAC's were a thing.
Also known as, Grade 13, so that explains my age)
I had no concept of being cautious or guarded with certain types of people.
And my bosses were people that I needed to keep at arm's length.
Instead, I sacrificed real friendships with peers for time with them.
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My mom was over yesterday and we were talking about my last post. She figured that I for sure needed to ask God what my wounding was that would cause me to have such a strong reaction to people putting absolutes on me.
(Our private conversation was not as vague so she got the nitty gritty details.)
And my confession here is that I really don't want to ask God.
Because it feels like work and I would rather hold onto my pain and justify my sense of injustice.
I don't want to ask God to help me.
What if he ignores my request and is silent?
What if he asks me to do something really hard?
However.
My mom is right.
So I half heartedly, with minuscule faith, with a reluctant inner posture, approached my heavenly dad and said:
"I have no idea what to say or to pray. I'm tired and I don't want to do the work of figuring out my wounding. I keep thinking that I don't want to ask for you for help and then I keep coming back to I really need your help. I believe, help my unbelief."
I do not presume to know much about anything.
Especially the ways of God.
I do know he is kind.
And he loves me.
In spite of my hard heart, ingratitude and rebellion.
He is faithful.
So back to my bosses from the fruit stand.
They were Christians so I trusted them.
Because they were older than me, I trusted them.
My assumption was that I was safe in the relationship.
Until the wife started telling me things she never should have.
And in my naivete I thought I was just a really good friend for listening. The thing is, I was not equipped to deal with confessions of illicit sexual behaviour or for "lesson's on loosing weight" that were really just ways to be anorexic. I had no idea what to do when she told me about being raped. I had no ability to process what she was talking about.
And this was all very secret.
Just between her and me.
Because I was one of her best friends.
So I wanted out.
Because I knew it was time to run for the hills.
This was not a good situation and I could feel it in my bones.
The first time I quit at the fruit stand I was guilted into not quitting.
There is a vague memory of sitting in a Second Cup for a staff meeting, giving my notice and being shamed in front of all the employees. The one line that stands out was from the wife "I knew you were going to quit."
Her guilt trip totally worked on me.
I stayed.
The second time I quit, this happened.
Me: I am going to be a camp counsellor for the rest of the summer, this is my two weeks notice.
Boss: God will never bless you because you are not finishing the race you started here. You will not bless those kids because you did not finish here.
Me: I am still going to be a counsellor and this is my two weeks notice.
BUT! I totally internalized his words and I wondered if he was right. Because I trusted him.
Now how does this story make any sense in relation to a post about people owning their own shit?!
Let me explain.
I have issues with letting people control my life.
Because I don't trust myself in new situations, I readily give control over to those that I think know more.
Because I don't trust my abilities, I readily let other's tell me what to do.
Because I doubt my relationship with God, I let other's tell me what a Christian is or is not.
At the core, I don't see me how Jesus sees me and I think that other people are more worthy or knowledgeable than me so I just trust them.
And it get's me in big trouble.
Because I can't take it for long and then I lash out.
Big time.
So when I hear sweeping statement's of "Everyone..." my natural inclination is to believe the statement.
But then my wounding shows up and I get super defensive.
Cause my bosses are not the only people I let have such influence over my life. There have been a few.
At this moment I feel the need to give some examples of what I mean by controlling. Because sometimes control is insidious and manipulative and other times it's way more obvious.
My fruit stand bosses, without asking, took money off my cheques to go towards tuition for a bible school they thought I needed to attend.
Guilt trips are a means of getting control.
Anger can be used as a means of control.
Confronting a "fellow believer" to point out a sin in there life can be a way of gaining control.
Telling a person who they are, who they should be and who they are not can be a way of controlling a person.
I have given people power to speak things over me and take liberties that I never should have.
In my experience, the people in my life who speak in grand sweeping absolutes, are the ones who want to silence me, change me and tell me that I am not good enough.
My knee-jerk response is from my wounding.
Maybe hashing it out here will bring some healing.
I dreamt last night that I was sitting in a coffee shop, having a coffee with a person that has really hurt me. I was pretending to have a great time. I looked out the window and the coffee shops name was Dignity. All of a sudden I was at the window and there was some peeling paint around the window, so I picked at it. Instead of making it worse, it looked better.
Dignity.
the state or quality of being worthy of honor or respect
If I don't treat myself with dignity I won't require it of others.
This has been on my window for the last few weeks.
Amen.
