Recently I was on a Zoom call with 20 other people for almost three hours. The meeting was valuable, offering instruction and resources to help us along our professional path. The host was highly qualified, authentic, easygoing, and engaging. I did not realize how much time had passed until my headset began to hurt my right ear. This is the ear that is sensitive due to being partially reconstructed because of skin cancer. I hardly notice it now as so much time has passed. And yet, when pressure is applied to that ear for too long, I remember the reason, and I feel the pain.
Pain gets our attention. And yet, so many of us press forward, acting like nothing is amiss. There are countless understandable explanations for keeping our aches (physical and mental) hidden, ranging from being a private person to not wanting to sound like a burden. Other reasons are more complex: the fear of being judged and viewed as compromised and not as capable. No one desires to be the weakest link, replaced, left behind, or counted out. So, we hide our distresses to remain intact with people and positions, not realizing that transparency within healthy boundaries is a strong relational glue. Unfortunately, as our societal mental health assessment reveals, we might be holding it together on the outside, but inside we are coming unglued.
All have fought against themselves, at times, championing our mental, spiritual, and physical muscles with pep talks. And as we know too well, some have lost the fight to suicide. Society is told to push through the pain, have thicker skin, be composed, and realize everyone struggles. Some have persuaded themselves to believe that if they are not handling their struggles well, then they must be broken or damaged beyond repair — the world would move on and be better without them. The fact is, the world does move on, but time and hearts never tick the same for those feeling the loss of a loved one.
Society does not need more critics, judges, platitudes, indifference, minimizers, or comparisons. Humanity needs more humility, compassion, and Christ-like love. I have learned from being on both sides of the conversation that people are more receptive to your presence than your preaching.
Twenty colleagues remained present on the Zoom call when our host wrapped up the meeting with an announcement: he is scheduled for major surgery that might take his life. His words left a grid of surprised faces in blocked squares across my screen. The pain I was feeling morphed into pain for this man I had just met through a camera and microphone on my computer. He had been giving us information for hours, yet this was different. This was life — his life. This was life and death — our reality.
During the final minutes to ask questions about the presented material, one by one, I heard and saw people offer prayers to the host. Very few asked questions about the material. People realized and responded to what was most important. This alone offered a glimpse of the best of humanity when we are authentic, relational people as God created us to be.
As we go about this week, and the world keeps turning, ask yourself if you are responding to what is most important. Reflect on how you are responding: is it beneficial and edifying to the receiver? Pray for God to give you discernment on how to be present for others today.
Tiffany Kaye Chartier
SGLY, dear reader.
(Smile, God Loves You.)
Tiffany Kaye Chartier, Author 