Last night, we sat in the Lorena High School gym visiting with a number of people we have not seen in quite some time. Our daughter Jamie graduated from Lorena two years ago, and we have only been to a few games since then.
It is funny how we could walk into a gym full of people to watch a game and come away remembering not the mass of people but the four or five people with whom we actually visited. The large group was impersonal. The individual conversations were personal. We came away with names: Jay, Chris, Kelli, Anna, Dusti, Michelle, Pam, Brian.
Personal.
I am presently reading Francis Collins’ book The Language of God. The subtitle is A Scientist Presents Evidence For Belief. It is a good book. On the back jacket, Collins is introduced as:
"…one of the country’s leading geneticists and the longtime head of the Human Genome Project. Prior to coming to Washington, he helped to discover the genetic misspellings that cause cystic fibrosis, neurofibromatosis, and Huntington’s disease."
A more complete introduction is in his chapter "The War of the World Views." He responds to the question, "Why would a loving God allow suffering in the world?" He writes:
Rational arguments can still be difficult to accept when an experience of terrible suffering falls on an innocent person. I know a young college student who was living alone during summer vacation while she carried out medical research in preparation for a career as a physician. Awakening in the dark of night, she found a strange man had broken into her apartment. With a knife pressed against her throat, he ignored her pleas, blindfolded her, and forced himself on her. He left her in devastation, to relive that experience over and over again for years to come. The perpetrator was never caught.
That young woman was my daughter. Never was pure evil more apparent to me than that night, and never did I more passionately wish that God would have intervened somehow to stop this terrible crime. Why didn’t He cause the perpetrator to be struck with a bolt of lightning, or at least a pang of conscience? Why didn’t He put an invisible shield around my daughter to protect her? (Collins, The Language of God, p. 44)
I was absolutely startled when I came across the words, "That young woman was my daughter." Oh, my goodness! The chapter took on a different form. Collins became more than a scientist reflecting on the suffering of men and women. This became personal. His story was personal. This issue for him was personal. This man had not only wrestled with these ideas intellectually but in his personal experience as well.
Life can be very general, theoretical, and impersonal. But my life? Now my life is personal. My life is about my past, my present, and my future. My life is about the way things are and what I am experiencing. I don’t know what is happening with you right now or what has happened to you. I don’t know what events have marked you or shaped you in a very personal way. However, I do know that many people have great difficulty dealing with life the way things have turned out.
In the meantime, maybe a line from Jehoshaphat’s prayer is in in order. Charlotte reminded me of this line just the other day. Jehoshaphat, upon facing the powerful armies of the Moabites, the Ammonites, and the Meunites who were about to attack him, prayed "… O our God, will you not judge them? For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you" (II Chronicles 20:12).
That gets personal really fast! I remember the first time I heard Dr. John Mark Hicks speak … it was at a Zoe worship conference. The theme was lament. He taught a lot for two days. Then the afternoon of the second day, he told his story. Then all he’d said for two days became profoundly significant and meaningful. He wasn’t just teaching us, he was sharing his journey. Made a huge difference.
Thanks Gregg–I’ve had a similar experience or two when hearing people speak or reading.
Jim,
Thanks so much for being there last night. We enjoy every "personal" moment we get with you and Charlotte!!!
Great post. As always, you give me alot to think about. Like what is really going on in the lives of people we see, work with, talk to, have lunch with, every day.We all are struggling with something, or trying to get over something, yet most of the time we just smile and pretend everything is fine…because after all, it’s only "personal" to us. Does anyone else really want to hear it? They’ve got their own stuff to deal with. Or we could feel embarrased, ashamed or whatever, and those are just a few of the reasons that we aren’t always real with people, even those closest to us. You speak of this often in your messages. I appreciate that. We all need to be reminded to be better listeners. If we could all improve in this area, maybe we wouldn’t all feel so isolated at times…because then people would HEAR us also.
Happy Wednesday, Pam
Pam,This is an outstanding comment and very honest one at that.I think you are onto what lies at the heart of our loneliness and sense of isolation. We assume that others really don’t want to hear about our lives (Another way of saying, "You don’t really love me that much, do you?")Then, we protect ourselves, not wanting to risk. As a result we settle for something very, very superficial.