Sorry.....Not sorry?

I've been journeying an interesting season recently. I've had hard conversations, difficult admissions, I've heard "sorry", I've said "sorry", I've wondered how things got so messed up so easily. 

I've discovered friendships I never realised I had. I've discovered I don't have friendships that I thought I had or at the very least they've become dramatically redefined or were not what I thought they were. 

The foundation of relationships are all the same in my opinion regardless of the nature of the relationship. Whether it's romantic, family, acquaintances, colleagues or close friends, they all are founded on the premise of communication, honesty and boundaries. Of course there are different dynamics going on depending on the type of relationship. You certainly aren't going to interact with a colleague the same as you would you boyfriend/husband but essentially they all have the same foundation. 

What I've realised is, not all these factors exist in my relationships, in some cases, not at all and I've had the painful realisation that some were just mirages and not the refreshing oasis I thought they were.

I've learned so much this season on what not to do, to create boundaries and grieve some losses in some cases and breathe a sigh of relief in others realising they weren't life giving. It's painful letting go though and for some I haven't quite unhooked myself, still hoping for change.

What I have learned though is "sorry" is just a word that can be used flippantly and without substance. It's a go to word for us all at times. But what makes this word have impact? I've been pondering this about how I haven't felt the need for apologies from some, yet for others they could apologise until the cows come home and it didn't impact my heart the same.

Quite recently I had the opportunity to resolve something historical from years and years ago. Something that was done on me and now I had the person in front of me offering their apology, and I didn't need it. On recounting the story in brief to someone pastorally, they asked me why I didn't think I was worth an apology. I couldn't articulate at that time why I didn't need an apology, but I can now. It wasn't because I didn't think I was worth it or that they shouldn't offer it.  It was because they "wore" their apology. I could see they were truly sorry and they demonstrated that in how they spoke to me, interacted with and were intentional about building bridges with me. The evidence was clear and backed up their words 100% and I realised that was why the other apologies didn't seem to impact, because no behaviour change was evident. In those cases it felt empty, a thing that was supposed to be given but one without demonstration. The same behaviour that originally needed an apology continued which rendered their words to be without substance and were essentially just noise.... The clanging cymbal from 1 Cor 13.

I was also self aware enough to realise that I perhaps have been a clanging cymbal at times too. It's impossible to say that we all haven't at times. 

I don't know what roots or fruit this is producing in me by the realisation but maybe it's a start to more healthy and life giving relationships and I guess it's a time for practicing what I've learned and trying to get better at it making sure my "sorries" when needed are backed up with action that demonstrates a change of heart. 

So, I've started to count the blessings of true friendship and acknowledge those people as my cheerleaders in the same way I hope I am for them.

Alternative fail??

This year I decided I would do an alternative Christmas much to the dismay and worry of my friends and family. I decided I would set myself apart from all the familiar trappings of Christmas and draw a line over 'fitting in' to other's plans because I lacked the courage to make my own. I decided that joining the tables of other's would feel like being a 'cuckoo in the nest'. Joining something that was 'theirs' rather than something that was mine. If it sounds selfish and ungrateful, it probably came across like that too. That wasn't my intention at all.

Also, being around the beauty of what kids and family brings was also too much to see in the face of what was lacking in my own life and the absence of what this year brought.

As the only single sister in the family, I normally just tagged along with my mum and dad and their plans for Christmas festivities and when mum died, I became my dad's plus one, keeping him company and trying to fill the void of mum not being there. This year we lost dad too and it just felt like their was no one to tag to and perhaps it was time to use the pain of absence to draw a line and create my own traditions.

There were many pleas not to hide myself away and be alone. Worry at the potential destructive nature of doing so given a long personal history of anxiety, depression and love affair with melancholy. Their concerns were well founded and not without merit but I really believed there was significance in separating myself from the familiar.

I was astounded and deeply moved at the several offers to sit at alternative Christmas dinner tables and the welcome people extended towards me. That in itself restored my fractured sense of being wanted.

Plan A was to relocate myself out of my physical environment to a beautiful little cottage in Cushendall where I could reconfigure my emotional default of running to people and using them to distract myself from the perpetual drone of a million thoughts running round my head and as a diversion from the impact of many emotional shit storms of my life.

Many of you that know me will know that I am extremely relational as a person but the down side of that is that people can become 'empty wells' and places to run instead of running to Jesus. I planned to try and address this too, removing all possibilities by planning alone time with only me and Jesus. Walks on the beach listening to worship music, singing my heart out and talking to Jesus, asking those profound questions I've been too afraid to contemplate, hoping that with the security blanket of 'people' removed I might actually stop avoiding Jesus.

Unfortunately, Plan A didn't happen and I didn't have Plan B.

One week before said planned retreat I got sick. Very sick. I spent the week prior to going, sick in bed but determined to push through. I got in the car during a perceived lull in coughing and travelled to Cushendall. It seemed everything was to be an uphill battle and after arriving 4 hours later than I had planned only to find an issue with gaining entry to the cottage. Another 30 minutes and I was in, offloading half my house that I brought with me "just in case" including art supplies, books, food, writing, most of which was never touched!

The next day, Christmas eve, I planned to go to Causeway Coast Vineyard for their service. Big mistake..... silly, silly me! I arrived on the dot, the place packed out and eventually managed to get space near the front aided by the very helpful usher. I then took a cursory look around and everywhere I looked were families and babies and people clearly deeply connected. It was then, just then I felt absence, hope deferred, disconnection and loss. The sense of missing out was tangible. I drove home a little more numb and anaesthetised.

The rest of the time away consisted of lots of sickness, staying in bed, confusion between day and night and never once left the house after that day at CCV. It's been a long time since I've been so sick and was bemused at the poor timing.

So, I packed the car once again and headed home, dejected, lost, and feeling like a complete failure.

My car, being the place I process most stuff and do my deep thinking in is where I had my first poignant conversation with Jesus. It was on the way home and very simplistic. It asked the question "Is this it?" "Is this all there is for me?"

I felt hopeless and more than slightly distraught at the seemingly emptiness I faced in a thing called "life". I wondered what it was all about and felt disappointed at my options that didn't seem very much like choices.

As I executed these utterances into the air hoping they would find the ear of God and that He would be listening, I felt a response drop into my spirit. It said "Jan, you are asking all the wrong questions?"

It is not what this world has for you that is 'purpose', but what you bring to this world? You do have choices. You can choose what you bring. You can choose what abilities, talents, posture and representation you bring and you can choose the legacy you leave.

It's your choice. That's the challenge.