More Than Words

Buckle up, guys…I wrote a novel tonight…

I’m sitting here at the table, looking around at what there is still left to do. A husband on nights, a couch of unfolded laundry, food to make and pack, a load of clothes from a sick child, random toys that didn’t make their bins, trash to empty for garbage day, and dishes to finish cleaning….all before I settle (slump) down on a chair to finish reviewing paperwork that I need to catch up.

Most days are like this. A scattered brain with too many things to accomplish, and all just to keep the house and workload in some type of “working order”. Busy, young children, all vying for conversation and time and touch, talking so much that having a thought long enough to remember what you needed to do for work in that moment is a long shot. Going, going, going.

I’ve been composing this post for a few weeks in my head…along with many others, and I know full well it may become a messy conglomeration of tangential thoughts. Ever since an oceanfront revelation, my brain has finally been going there again during the day. But by the time I settle to write (or work), it’s 10pm, and the headspace I felt during the day that was able to process ideas (usually in the car) has become a puddle of sludge, just hoping to finish the top of the list before I crash with my computer on my lap.

At church, we’ve been going through a series titled “Seasons”, and it’s all based off of a very well-known series of verses in Ecclesiastes…”to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven…” (Eccl. 3:1, KJV) I love the series. It’s been refreshing, insightful, encouraging, and uplifting, to the very definition – it’s provided hope. Hope that things can change. Hope that this season is not forever. Hope that there is more.

But I can’t help but wonder, do we overuse this phrase? Has this become yet another cliche? How many times have I heard, “this is only a season”? Probably as many times as I’ve been told, “I’ll pray for you” or “this too shall pass” or “he’s in a better place” or “you’re doing great”. Don’t get me wrong, these things are awesome. The logical, rational understanding and internalization of these ideas IS hope providing, and well-intentioned. But the older I get, and the more I pay attention, I realize…I’m an actions person. I used to argue it. I mean, I’m in my head CONSTANTLY, and sometimes with simultaneous thoughts running (that’s more for another day). But I really am an actions person. You love me? Show me. You’re concerned for me? Show me. You can tell I’m anxious/overwhelmed/ depressed/decompensating? Show me. You want to help? Show. Me.

We’ve gotten so caught up in our lives that we have lost the idea of a village. Of a community. We don’t have the time to offer it. And we don’t get offered it in return. I’ve often thought myself, “How can I help someone swim when I’m drowning?”

I have the sweetest friend. She and her family have been here almost a year and a half, but are originally from Portugal. They do things so much differently…and I’m almost jealous. It’s not that I want to completely emulate her life or culture (though I’m not sure I’d completely complain…). It’s more…well…it seems to me (from the outside) that they’ve got a strong piece we’re missing. When you build a house, you prep it to hold you for as long as you are able to live independently. When you go to church, it’s to the one your entire neighborhood/area goes to. Holidays are a progression of family and friends. Life is about community. She is currently a stay-at-home mom after being kind-of a big shot in her business (my words…she’d likely balk at the notion). She’s loving it, and is so thankful. But if I need help? Whether or not I ask, she’ll offer, “because we’re neighbors. That’s what you do”. She could be tired, her kids could be sick, she may have slept three hours the night before and is a single mom much of the time due to her husband’s work schedule. She plans their trips, cleans their home, gets up multiple times with her young children, and doesn’t bat an eye at offering to take on another child so you can get a task completed. It’s definitely a mentality. And to me, it’s a heart thing.

Sometimes I wonder if we’ve started to rely a little too much on our cliche responses, feeling good that we offered a prayer or a half-hearted “let me know if you need anything”. I heard once this offer being described as adding another weight to shoulders who are already too burdened. And honestly, how often do we know how to answer this? How can we? The thought of needing a live-in person daily, or every morning, or every evening…well, that’s my first thought. “can you come over every evening?”.
There’s a song that’s hit my heart many times, knowing full well the countless times that I’ve been both the offerer and receiver. In ‘Shine the Light’, Babbie Mason sings, “In the parking lot of the coffee shop, Just the other day. She smiled and she said, “Well I’m doin’ okay” But I felt her pain. I took her hand in mine, Said, “It’s gonna work out fine”. But as she turned I wondered, did I just hand her a line?”  We pat ourselves on the back, *hopefully* lift up the prayer we promised, and move on our way.

I know, I know. We’re all stressed and overrun and tired and busy. I get it. But I also had to ask myself, how can I expect something I’m not giving? If you feel the need to tell someone, “this too shall pass” or “enjoy it now, it’ll be gone too soon”, use this as a red flag for yourself. I PROMISE the person knows this, tells themselves this daily, even feels guilty for still struggling. I PROMISE the person is trying so hard to get through the day to day and WANTS to enjoy the season or push a little harder and a little further. Trust me.

So, let me put out a challenge to you. To me. To us all. If you find these words on the tip of your tongue, think about what they really need so you can HELP them enjoy (survive?) this season. To paint a picture for you, let me go one step further and be very raw and very real. Words like “it’s only for a season, enjoy it now” sometimes make me cry. And not because I feel warm and encouraged. Because I KNOW this to the very depths of my heart, and I cringe that I’m so overwhelmed that I can’t often stop and enjoy it without decreasing my 5-6 hours of sleep even more (less? I digress). I fear that I’ll forget it because I’m stressed and exhausted, and I can’t remember what I did yesterday, let alone that super funny, adorable, cute thing my daughter did an hour ago. I covet prayers, and I’m so thankful for them. Prayers can move mountains, and I believe that to my core. But I also know that I need real-life, hands-on support, and I think I speak for us all.

We were made for community. For connection. And not just for joy. What can you do? Say the words if you need, but follow up. Be more than a passer-by on the street. Check in on them. Clean their bathroom. Bring them coffee or dinner. Wash their car. Take the kids randomly for an hour or two. Don’t ask for permission. Just do it. If you can’t? Send them a good, old-fashioned letter, flowers, a $5 coffee shop gift card, an audiobook, a song, a movie. Call them and be ready to listen, not fix. Be ready to sit in the depth – the muck – of what might come out, and let it be okay for them to vent, even if it doesn’t sound pretty. Offer encouragement to strangers. Pay for the next order in the drive thru line. Recently, I heard a woman speak of a friend who would put a wreath on the person’s door, and one concept I heard of helping kids be Santa by identifying someone to give a surprise gift to by figuring out what they would like/need and giving it to them with no credit just melts my heart. I cannot count the number of times I have been brought to tears by a godly-timed letter, text, gift, or blessing, large and small. But on the flip side, nothing makes a person feel so incredibly insignificant than being heard but not listened to, seen but ignored.

I look around our world, our country, and my heart breaks. SOMETHING has got to give. A little kindness, a little connection, a little community – can go a very, very long way. It starts with us, my friends. With me, with you. Be more than a greeting card…we have enough of those already <3