On Drowning

Like Charlie Brown, I'm in love with a little redheaded girl. Her name is Charleigh (pronounced Charlie), and she's my third of four children, second daughter, presenting middle child.

She's been hauled in distress from the lake the past three summers in a row, and I told her daddy I couldn't enter another summer without Charleigh's knowing how to swim, float, something. We signed both girls up for swim lessons at Aqua-Tots: Level 3, Fast Track. Six-year-old Clementine loved every minute of it.

Charleigh, though, struggled. She's strong and solid in the way my people mean when they say built like a brick shithouse, so there was never a question of physical capability. Problem is that she's strong-willed in the way my people mean when they say raised in the canebrake by an ol' mama lion. And Charleigh wasn't happy over the swim-lesson situation; in fact, she was periodically awash in terror.

The first week, I bit my nails watching Charleigh through the glass. Instructor Alex pulled her into the water and made her complete the drills even when she roared with her head tipped back or pleaded with her pale hands clasped together. Sometimes he worked with Charleigh's classmates while she dangled off his back like a baby monkey. Once, Charleigh broke free and ran, and the master instructor on duty had to abandon his class in the pool to return Charleigh to hers.

She did her fair share of yelling at me before and after class; one afternoon, I pulled the minivan off the side of the road and refused to drive until she quieted. I assured her over and over that Alex was not going to let her drown for fear of losing his job. (Ha!) But on the fifth morning, Charleigh melted down completely. Complete and utter hysteria.

"If you're not a big enough girl for swim lessons," I suggested, "maybe you're not big enough for Vacation Bible School."

"Or King's Dominion. Or a week at Nana's," Jim said.

"Or your birthday at Jellystone," I added.

Charleigh, sobbing, said: "Maybe we can just celebrate my birthday, next year." My eyes met Jim's. (His were wet.) He shrugged. For a moment, we were completely at a loss. Then I thought: this child has almost drowned three summers in a row; of course she's afraid. Of course the fast track's hard on her. But we've already paid (an arm and a leg); I'm watching her through the glass; her instructor is so kind, so patient; and ultimately, I'm just trying to keep her alive. She's going to have to be pushed through her fear. She needs to know how to swim. She's going to do this. Period.

It was the right decision. Somewhere in the middle of her fifth class and just like that, Charleigh stopped being afraid.

***

And here comes the Lord. Later, when it's quiet. You see it now; don't you? He asks. I immediately go twitchy and try to chalk His voice up to magical thinking. A facet of mental illness, I think. That's all. But we've been in many of these uncomfortable places in my lifetime, and we both know what this is, so He laughs and cracks my world open just a little more.

I see Charleigh's hysteria and hear my assurances that Alex will not let her drown. Then I see myself in a state of emotional disregulation. I've just come to understand the term for this form of it: panic. Like Charleigh's fear, it has been hard-earned. Our counselor has explained it to Jim in terms of drowning. ("She's going to come up clawing and scratching," he said, "or whatever she thinks she needs to do to survive.") I realize with a start that Jim isn't going to let me drown any more than Alex was going to let Charleigh drown, also that Father God (on the other side of the glass through which I see Him darkly) isn't going to let Jim let me drown any more than I was going to let Alex let Charleigh drown.

I see that, like Charleigh, I have to push or be pushed through my fear. Life with fear in one's heart isn't kind. It isn't God's best for any of us.

Parenting. Jesus promised: whatever we do for others (especially the least of them), we do for Him. But in my lifetime I have found that, often, whatever I do for others and from a perfect place in my heart, I do for myself. The Lord in His great mercy works it out that way.

How to Be My BFF

The thing that encourages me most about blogging is this: I've found every single blogger with whom I've spent time in person or on the phone to be exactly how I'd expected based upon what I'd read of her. I'd expected only good things, of course, else I wouldn't have bothered, but that's beside the point. The point (the thrilling point!) is that--if others are managing to write themselves down in an authentic, true sort of way--I may be managing it, too.

Nothing else matters so much to me, as my passionate purpose in blogging is to write myself down for my children.

Then, this bit of encouragement: a few months ago, a fellow blogger reached out. She'd read one of my posts and--in one of my descriptions of myself--recognized her compassion-gifted son. She asked if compassion/mercy were my spiritual gift, and upon my confirmation, wondered if I might share with her my experiences in being parented. She was looking in particular for what worked and what didn't, and have mercy: would that we were all in such hot pursuit of our children's hearts.

Our phone fellowship was sweet--fruitful on both ends!--and led to my writing for Maryleigh a guest post about effective interaction with a compassion-gifted person. You'd bless in traveling to Blue Cotton Memory to read it, especially since it could just as well be titled "How to Be Brandee's BFF." Ha! Just click on the bold letters.

**updated 05/10/13 to include--for printing purposes--the contents of the guest post

When Logic Loses, Love Goes Straight to the Heart

So you long for effective interaction with someone who has the gift of compassion or (as I like to refer to it) mercy. Perhaps you’re feeling overwhelmed by the drama of it, the roller-coaster of it, or even this other person’s anger. You want nothing more than to guide, help, motivate, or otherwise make a positive difference in this person’s life, but you’re at a loss. How can you grow—or even just maintain/preserve—your relationship with this sensitive other?

Maryleigh perceived correctly that my spiritual gift is mercy and asked me to speak to being parented effectively, given my gift, which led to my compiling the following list of key thoughts. I hope you’ll find it useful regardless of the nature of your relationship with a mercy-gifted person. Before you read the list, take a deep breath and know: you’re to be commended for both recognizing someone else’s spiritual gift and caring enough to seek ways to improve your relationship with this person. God has almost certainly placed you in this person’s life for a reason.

• Realize: your approach is critical; you must pass through her* feelings to get to her thoughts. If you’re careless with her feelings—especially by patronizing, judging, or labeling—she’ll shut down, which is to say: she’ll get stuck over your approach and fail to receive even your best advice.
• Always remember: with her, you’ll get further with love than with logic.
• Postpone a hard conversation until you’re in control of your emotions. Again, she’s sensitive to approach; unless you’re legitimately calm (not just “fake calm”), you’re not going to get the response you want.
• If you’re in control of your emotions but she can’t seem to control hers, acknowledge her feelings, reassure her of your love, and suggest postponing the conversation until a set date and time in the future. If she wants to continue in conversation, you might try unless she’s being verbally abusive in some way but realize: it’s important for her to learn that conversation is most productive when everyone’s in control of his or her emotions.
• Prove to her over time: you’re trustworthy. You’ll never force her to work through her feelings alone. Even if you must postpone a conversation, you’ll never leave her holding the bag for long, let alone forever.
• If you have a good handle on your approach, try to help her see the big picture. She can easily lose perspective, overlooking her long, positive history with a loved one (or even the Lord!) in the face of the present difficulty, and things can become “gloom and doom” in her mind all too easily. If you can somehow teach her (through words and/or example) to take a step back when her emotions threaten to consume, you’ll deeply bless her life. I was in my mid-twenties before I gained enough control to stop hyperventilating and vomiting when especially upset.
• Realize: anger is almost never her (or anyone’s) real emotion. Try to determine and respond to the source of the hurt beneath the anger. If you can see through both anger and hurt to the fear at the core and respond to the fear, all the better.
• Take comfort in the fact that—if she’s being particularly unkind—she’s very likely to experience remorse and offer an apology after calming down. She knows what it’s like to have hurt feelings and doesn’t like to cause them in other people.
• Try to imagine living life with your heart on your sleeve or your nerve endings exposed and know: that’s her reality. Her feelings are more real to her than her thoughts. Never invalidate them, no matter how ridiculous they seem. Look her in the eye. Let her know you’re hearing her. Magic words (but only if they’re true): “I love you and always will, no matter what. I’m so sorry you’re hurting. I’m here for you.”
• Know: it’s better to say nothing than to say something insincere or untrue. She can detect insincerity and lies in a heartbeat.
• Try loosening the reins: she’s probably more trustworthy than you think.
• In as much as possible, give her space and time to process information, make decisions, and even fulfill tasks. She’s probably more innately responsible than you think, especially on her own timetable.
• Help her find a local mentor with the gift of mercy. If she doesn’t seem to come alive under this person’s wings, it’s the wrong fit. Ask the Lord to provide a mentor and choose him or her with care; some people (even within the church!) never learn how to use the gift of mercy responsibly. The more your person can learn about and experience caring for others in a safe environment, in safe ways, the better. Ideally, the local mentor will apply his or her gift in the name of Jesus (as opposed to only in the name of a specific hospital, school, etc.). I recommend that—with a responsible mentor—your person delve specifically into the areas of pastoral care and prayer. In these realms, she’ll have the opportunity to respond to many types of people and situations and may therefore be able to better determine how she’s innately gifted to serve. (For example, even as a teenager, I worked more effectively with adults than with children.)
• Note: an important part of your person’s education will involve discernment. Encourage her to see herself as a steward of her gift of mercy: as having responsibility for how, when, where, why and for/with whom she uses it. Encourage her to seek God’s face before acting so as not to fall prey to those who would take advantage of her kind heart. Again, I can’t recommend enough that she work with a responsible mentor; until she has a solid grasp of her gift, her spirit could easily be crushed (whether intentionally or unintentionally) by someone in need of mercy.

*I do realize that your person may be male. I’ve chosen to refer to your person with female pronouns (her, she, etc.) for the sake of simplicity, also because I’m female and these are things I wish people to know about interacting with me.