It's a one-man show
For some reason I've been bombarded with the idea of making sure you have someone to talk to about the secret and personal things going on in your life. Yeah, I know it doesn't sound like the manly thing to do but apparently in Christendom, it's all the rage. It seems like I'm getting it from all angles and I think I'm starting to take the hint. The thing is I've read about this in Christian books on "real manhood", agreed to it in small groups (and adopted a non-self-incriminating, shallow form of it), and I even preached on it in my years in the ministry. Practially, however, I never got around to it.
Why? It's not me. Just like the mullet or a red jacket with a couple dozen zippers, it's not my style. Talking openly about my feelings, thoughts, and concerns fits me about as good as the 30x30 Bugle Boy jeans I wore in high school.
My parents were visiting last year and, as it inevitably does, the topic of my childhood came up. This is when everyone gets a good laugh at the stupid things I did. I'd prefer to get my giggles from the television in this case but, nevertheless, I must endure these all too frequent roasting sessions. No one ever praises my accomplishments like when I won my state degree in the Future Farmers of America or the time I took first place in the softball throwing contest in the spring field day of my 6th grade year. Those sweet memories and feats of greatness will just have to exist in my memory alone. During one of these episodes of borderline abuse, my mom brought up the fact that whenever I got hurt, even as a little fella barely able to walk and construct a mathematical equation, I would run off into my bedroom to sulk and weep over my suffering in isolation. Such has been my song in the face of turmoil and grief these last many years.
Will it ever change? I can't say. I willingly distance myself from close relationships to avoid the awkward inner confrontation between being transparent and being reclusive. It's easy not to spill out your soul over coffee with someone whom you only have a social friendship.
The truth is I'm satisfied and I'm not. I'm satisfied because this is familiar to me. I'm not satisfied not because I feel I'm in danger of going off the deep end and desperately need help and companionship but because I know there is fulfillment and freedom in unveiling the hidden paths no one has traveled.
Why? It's not me. Just like the mullet or a red jacket with a couple dozen zippers, it's not my style. Talking openly about my feelings, thoughts, and concerns fits me about as good as the 30x30 Bugle Boy jeans I wore in high school.
My parents were visiting last year and, as it inevitably does, the topic of my childhood came up. This is when everyone gets a good laugh at the stupid things I did. I'd prefer to get my giggles from the television in this case but, nevertheless, I must endure these all too frequent roasting sessions. No one ever praises my accomplishments like when I won my state degree in the Future Farmers of America or the time I took first place in the softball throwing contest in the spring field day of my 6th grade year. Those sweet memories and feats of greatness will just have to exist in my memory alone. During one of these episodes of borderline abuse, my mom brought up the fact that whenever I got hurt, even as a little fella barely able to walk and construct a mathematical equation, I would run off into my bedroom to sulk and weep over my suffering in isolation. Such has been my song in the face of turmoil and grief these last many years.
Will it ever change? I can't say. I willingly distance myself from close relationships to avoid the awkward inner confrontation between being transparent and being reclusive. It's easy not to spill out your soul over coffee with someone whom you only have a social friendship.
The truth is I'm satisfied and I'm not. I'm satisfied because this is familiar to me. I'm not satisfied not because I feel I'm in danger of going off the deep end and desperately need help and companionship but because I know there is fulfillment and freedom in unveiling the hidden paths no one has traveled.
posted by Matt Book at
11:53 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home