
The Wall
Go away she said. Away from me. Blocked! Unblocked. And Blocked again!
It never feels good when its from a friend.
It mirrors my childhood from back in the day.
Can I get in? Can I play?
Who do you think you are? Go the hell away. We don’t care what you have to say.
Why don’t they like me, what have I done?
I felt their anger. I felt their pain.
It’s been a while since I felt this way.
Back to the future where I wallow in hurt.
In the morning. At lunch. And after work.
Is this about you or is this about me? I’m really not sure. I just can’t see.
My “Fe” alarms me that something is wrong.
But the pain is confusing and my effort is lost.
So I sit on the sideline feeling alone.
My back against this wall. It keeps me down. It keeps me out.
Isolated. And wanting to change. So that I never make her hurt again.
Please don’t try to understand me. I can’t explain it. You have to trust me.
This too shall pass. This constant ache.
You don’t come back. From some mistakes.

Smiling Down
Who was he to you? I have not a clue.
But I know it hurts. I feel it too.
A friend. A bud. You loved him. He cherished you.
You’ll meet again though. In Heaven one day.
Not in time. Not in space, but in a place. We can’t see right now.
You’ll see him. He’ll see you. A momentary stare.
The shock of it all will be so great.
But you’ll begin to walk his way. And he to you.
The embrace will explode with love so bold.
Your pain is gone. You left it on Earth. It feels so great!
Your friendship I lost, but this promise we share.
As believers together. Our eyes gaze high.
I hope to meet him too and embrace him as if I knew.
I hope he knows my name. I’m sure he is great.
I share your pain. My tears cannot lie and neither I.
Why do I cry for you? I have no idea. I sense the pain. It’s so clear.
But back to him. He’s reading this.
He’s smiling now. He sees my heart. He knows it’s true. He loves you.
He’s looking down on us. He’s smiling down on you.

Lonely Song
Write some code. Check the tweets. What’s on FB. Rinse repeat.
A day in my life. My pains not gone. It hasn’t left.
Is this what they mean by mental health?
Frustration, then sadness it’s all about pain.
I hear that song and I’m overcome.
Tears, then I’m fine. More tears! No I’m fine.
My very own prison and she’s got the key.
I can’t get out. She’s trapped me here.
Does she even know? Does she even care?
But how do I escape my utter mess. Do my best?
We tell our kids to let God do the rest.
Does she think this is a joke? I never laughed.
Did I cause this pain or was it sabotage? Did she protect her wounded heart?
I can’t fix this one, so I give up, but the pain does not. It presses on.
Just pain, pain, pain and more pain. More tears, oh no.
I look down and let out a sigh. Maybe they will not see.
That’s all I have. I’ve got no more.
Another day. In my cage. Trapped. I can’t breathe. I can’t see. My friend still gone.
I’m dead to her.
What a lonely song.

The Struggle
I wake up alone, although there are four others around.
I leave for the day, but sometimes not at all.
When I’m fully charged, I don’t want to be alone.
Let me find some people and absorb their pain.
After three conversations, I’m done for a while.
The headphones are on.
I love people and need them around. Without them I don’t feel a thing.
But not right now.
I will hide in my cave, but I will return.
I will stay in the open, for everyone to see.
If I hurt you, then you hurt me and I carry that burden.
You won’t understand, but I don’t need you to.
It’s been four hours and I feel more alone than ever.
All I really want to do is cry.
Back to the cave, time to go home, need to be alone, need time with my thoughts, time to close.
The struggle is real every single day.
With Ni, Fe, Ti, then Se, I tread lightly.
All you really need to know about me is… I am trying.

The Chill of Vulnerability
When tragedy enters our lives, it causes us to realize how strong or shallow our relationships really are. There are no shortcuts. No escapes. No looking away. There is weakness, fear, and trembling, and if we are willing to face these things and open ourselves up to others, then there’s also vulnerability. When we let others draw close enough to peer at our quirks, shortcomings, and failures, we run the risk of having our personal imperfections scare them away. We can expect that they’ll also pass judgement upon us. Or even worse, we open ourselves up to pain if they leave us, either purposefully or not.
Vulnerability can be a beautiful staple among believers. True community can be birthed only from openness. When we let others see behind our facade and we say, “I am broken”, we take the first step toward fixing us.
Sharing our true selves with others, as I have found, helps us know we are not alone. The body of Christ provides the nutrients it takes to heal and care for its limbs, if we stay connected. The gospel transforms our insecurities by revealing that we are not defined any longer by our quirks or flaws, but by God’s acceptance of us. He knows our deepest, darkest secrets, yet still chooses to love us. When everything is stripped away, this is all that remains. Knowing our true identity helps us pursue vulnerability in our local communities of faith.
Opening ourselves up to others can open a window to grace, allowing a breeze of connection to pass through to our soul. We know we have problems, but we also understand the reality grace offers those problems. This allows us to both rely on God’s grace as well as offer it to others. Openness can be frightening! You feel completely naked, but I believe there is a direct correlation between how much we are willing to share and how much we are able to grow. Vulnerability provides us with an incredible opportunity to take ourselves to the next level.
Of course, we must understand the risks involved. We could be mocked, manipulated, or even scare off those who don’t understand that we are actually being genuine beyond their understanding. In my experience though, vulnerability is a powerful tool that allows us to put our fears aside and reach otherwise unattainable goals.
Honesty allows us to be transparent.
Transparency leads to openness.
Openness provides a path to vulnerability.
Vulnerability makes us stronger.
Don’t let the chill of vulnerability stop you, just be prepared to see it through to something great!

The Thing About Pain
It seems that we live in a time, especially with social media, text messaging, email, i.e. written, instant, long distance communication, where it’s quite difficult to tell whether someone is in pain, more specifically emotional pain. As someone who is an extroverted feeler, I typically sense and absorb the emotions of others. Because of this, I’m sensitive to the emotional pain of others. My tendency is to offer support and encouragement as soon as possible.
You Don’t Simply Move On
Many times extroverted feelers will change the mood to be more upbeat in these situations, but I tend to draw the person in and grieve with them before even thinking about changing the mood. The reason for this is that I understand emotional pain, in most people, needs attention. The majority of us don’t just “move on” from emotional pain. Sorry, it doesn’t work that way. People who think it does work that way have no business counseling those who are in pain and generally come across and insensitive, and often make situations worse than they were before.
There are also those who seem to require you to somehow explain or justify your pain, dismissing it as if it didn’t even exist if they don’t agree that you should even be in pain. We’ve all heard it right, “Hey, I know you’re in pain, but [ insert pithy comment suggesting you just forget the pain and simply walk away from it ].” It’s sad that we live in a world that lacks empathy this way.
Pain Doesn’t Require Justification
In another article that I recently wrote, I stated the following:
Pain is pain. It does not care about where it came from. It could care less about “the why” or “the how”. It just exists and really the only thing that can kill pain is time, but time is usually not on our side, so we do what we can to suppress pain. Someone else’s opinion of why you are in pain is completely useless and irrelevant. Even your own reasoning of why you are in pain is often irrelevant. Pain usually comes out of nowhere, having a field day with causality, floating through expectation, then action, then consequence, and into reality. So never, ever look at someone’s pain (or your own pain) and think since you don’t understand it that it’s not real. If you do, you’re quite simply ignorant in that you’re misunderstanding what pain is, how personal and focused it is, and how sensitive it is.
Nobody’s pain, specifically emotional pain, requires justification from anyone or anything. Period.
I’m of the mindset that if you can’t sense or feel someone else’s pain, then perhaps you shouldn’t offer advice or counsel to them, instead bring someone else into the picture who can help them in the way they need to be helped. The sad truth is most people simply do not care or are too busy dealing with their own problems or aspirations. I just wonder how many people who were borderline suicide victims (yes victims) could have been saved if only enough attention, empathy, and energy had been directed toward them.
We should see people through their pain. We should check on them early and often. People want to know that everything is going to be OK. This is what gets people through depression. It’s called hope. Many of us are the “counseling” type and we understand the fragility of it. Saying things like, “Yes, we are all in pain” doesn’t help those who are reaching out. They aren’t asking you to measure their pain. They are asking you to validate their pain, meaning they want you to admit the the pain is real. From there they want you to support them, meaning walk with them, encourage them, not just once, but every day, often many times a day, for months if not years. I mentioned earlier that it takes energy. This is what I’m talking about.
That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.