Over the past few months my former mentor and I have been reconnecting. At first I wasn't sure what this would look like. We live several hours away, and neither one of us has a ton of time, he's pastoring a large church and spending time with his grandkids, I'm working, finishing up a master's degree, exploring some options for the future, and being a dad. In some ways, I felt that after our initial phone conversation everything was done. I had reached out, been honest, and extended forgiveness; he had responded, apologized, and accepted forgiveness.
As I've gone through the months since then, I've realized how much I miss him. Recently we were on the phone, I was asking him for prayer and expressing some frustration for a situation I'm facing with my ex-wife, and in the midst of that conversation I told him, "I'm sorry we lost touch."
People enter our lives at different times and for different reasons. Some make a big impact, other we barely remember. Some build us up while others try to tear us down; some pour into us while others drain us. There are some people we think we'll be close to forever, and other we wish we had never met. Some will wound us intentionally, others unintentionally, and sometimes there will be wounds we make worse.
This wound turned into a four year silence because I wouldn't ask a simple question. I was too afraid to be rejected, to insecure to risk being vulnerable, that I ended up pushing someone away who had helped and guided me through some of the biggest moments of my life. I let this wound get worse and worse, to the point where I had to write a letter explaining how the narrative I was enclosing and then call a secretary because I was too nervous to talk to him.
I don't know what the future looks like with us. I don't see us ever working together at a church, partly due to logistics and geography, and partly due to how I've felt God leading my life. I feel that we've grown out of the mentor/apprentice stage of life, but all good relationships should grow beyond how they start.
I will always be grateful for the things I have learned from him, I quote him a lot, and a lot of the things I do stem from he taught me. I am thankful that God brought us together, grateful that God didn't let me continue to brood over I felt ignored and abandoned, and thankful for having time to reconnect.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Friday, September 21, 2018
Wednesday, September 19, 2018
The Wound I Made Worse, Healing Part 1: Reaching Out
It was going on five years since I had talked to my former mentor. One of the pastor's I had been meeting with challenged me to write out a couple narratives of key relationships in my life, one of them being this one. I wrote out how we met, the different experiences I had had while working with him, and how our relationship grew from pastor and intern, to close friend, to father/son.
I wrote about things he had told me, ways he had encouraged me, pushed me, and guided me. I wrote about the wound, why it had hurt, how it made me feel, and the reaction I had afterwards. When I had finished, I sent it to the pastor who had asked me to write it, and then he asked me how I felt about calling him.
That idea wasn't something I was ready to do. First off, who calls someone for the first time in half a decade and says, "Hey, here's how you hurt me..." I can't imagine that conversation would go over so well. For the time being I decided to just sit on narrative I had written, and let God begin to work.
A few months later God was leading me to reach out and begin to seek restoration. I began talking to my pastor again, and he suggested that I begin by sending the narrative I had written to him. This sounded like the best first step, and so I wrote a letter, explaining what had happened with in my life and what had led me to reach out. I explained the narrative I was including and offered genuine forgiveness, then I opened the door to have continued conversation if he was interested. I mailed the letter and waited for a response, after a few weeks I had heard nothing back. I sent an email checking to make sure he had gotten it, and got no response. This lack of a reply added to my frustration, and it made me ask even more questions. How could he not even respond?
I waited a few months, in some ways I kind of forgot about it. I had done pretty much everything I could. I had reached out, explained my perspective, offered forgiveness, and invited dialogue, I had no power over his response.
Early this year, God began to stir my heart again, and I felt that I had to make one more effort. I decided that I would call his office and just make sure he had gotten the letter I sent months earlier. I called on the day that he had typically taken off, wanting to talk to the secretary, and I was transferred to his assistant. She told me that he was out, but that she would check with him when he got back in the office the next week and get back to me. I thanked her, hung up, and waited again.
Tuesday while I was at work my phone range and his name appeared on the screen. I wasn't able to talk, so I let it go to voice mail. He didn't leave me a message, but called me a few more times throughout the day. When I got in my car that night to drive home I was about to call him back when my phone range again.
I answered, we talked. He explained that he hadn't responded because he had only just recently gotten my letter. At the time I had sent it he had suffered a stroke, and so his staff didn't give him anything that might have been upsetting and possibly cause more harm. He apologized for how I had felt, acknowledging the pain, and apologized for the situation I had faced. I told him I forgave him, we exchanged some brief updates on life, and opened possibility of meeting up in the future...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I wrote about things he had told me, ways he had encouraged me, pushed me, and guided me. I wrote about the wound, why it had hurt, how it made me feel, and the reaction I had afterwards. When I had finished, I sent it to the pastor who had asked me to write it, and then he asked me how I felt about calling him.
That idea wasn't something I was ready to do. First off, who calls someone for the first time in half a decade and says, "Hey, here's how you hurt me..." I can't imagine that conversation would go over so well. For the time being I decided to just sit on narrative I had written, and let God begin to work.
A few months later God was leading me to reach out and begin to seek restoration. I began talking to my pastor again, and he suggested that I begin by sending the narrative I had written to him. This sounded like the best first step, and so I wrote a letter, explaining what had happened with in my life and what had led me to reach out. I explained the narrative I was including and offered genuine forgiveness, then I opened the door to have continued conversation if he was interested. I mailed the letter and waited for a response, after a few weeks I had heard nothing back. I sent an email checking to make sure he had gotten it, and got no response. This lack of a reply added to my frustration, and it made me ask even more questions. How could he not even respond?
I waited a few months, in some ways I kind of forgot about it. I had done pretty much everything I could. I had reached out, explained my perspective, offered forgiveness, and invited dialogue, I had no power over his response.
Early this year, God began to stir my heart again, and I felt that I had to make one more effort. I decided that I would call his office and just make sure he had gotten the letter I sent months earlier. I called on the day that he had typically taken off, wanting to talk to the secretary, and I was transferred to his assistant. She told me that he was out, but that she would check with him when he got back in the office the next week and get back to me. I thanked her, hung up, and waited again.
Tuesday while I was at work my phone range and his name appeared on the screen. I wasn't able to talk, so I let it go to voice mail. He didn't leave me a message, but called me a few more times throughout the day. When I got in my car that night to drive home I was about to call him back when my phone range again.
I answered, we talked. He explained that he hadn't responded because he had only just recently gotten my letter. At the time I had sent it he had suffered a stroke, and so his staff didn't give him anything that might have been upsetting and possibly cause more harm. He apologized for how I had felt, acknowledging the pain, and apologized for the situation I had faced. I told him I forgave him, we exchanged some brief updates on life, and opened possibility of meeting up in the future...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Monday, September 17, 2018
The Wound I Made Worse, Impact
We didn't talk for years. I was hurt, and being pretty stubborn (I'm working on turning this into grit, the positive definition of this trait) I wasn't about to make a phone call or send a text. I simply let things fester. I didn't unfriend him on Facebook, but I made it so I didn't see his posts. I didn't want to talk to him, I didn't want to know how he was doing, I felt abandoned, and my immediate inclination was to build a wall and cut him out of my life.
I had no mentor at this point, I still met with pastors from the church I was attending from time to time, but I was guarded, not wanting to let anyone get close, build up my hopes, tell me about my potential, and then let me get abandoned again. I had read about the term "Ronin", a Samurai without a master, and in some ways thought of myself that way. Part of me really didn't want another mentor, part of me really just wanted to say "Screw it, I'll figure this life thing out for myself." That philosophy never worked out very well.
I didn't really trust anyone, and I didn't let anyone get close to me at this point. I was willing to let people in, but only so far. I would let different people see different parts of me, no one got the whole picture. I stopped paying attention to the affirmation and encouragement people would give me, I stopped seeking help and guidance from anyone, and in many ways stopped challenging myself.
In my mind, I was done; I wasn't going to contact him, and if he contacted me I wasn't going to respond. I was going to be spiteful and immature, but I didn't see it that way. I was hurting myself, letting bitterness fester, and I was only hurting myself. I didn't want to seek healing or restoration, but God had other plans...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I had no mentor at this point, I still met with pastors from the church I was attending from time to time, but I was guarded, not wanting to let anyone get close, build up my hopes, tell me about my potential, and then let me get abandoned again. I had read about the term "Ronin", a Samurai without a master, and in some ways thought of myself that way. Part of me really didn't want another mentor, part of me really just wanted to say "Screw it, I'll figure this life thing out for myself." That philosophy never worked out very well.
I didn't really trust anyone, and I didn't let anyone get close to me at this point. I was willing to let people in, but only so far. I would let different people see different parts of me, no one got the whole picture. I stopped paying attention to the affirmation and encouragement people would give me, I stopped seeking help and guidance from anyone, and in many ways stopped challenging myself.
In my mind, I was done; I wasn't going to contact him, and if he contacted me I wasn't going to respond. I was going to be spiteful and immature, but I didn't see it that way. I was hurting myself, letting bitterness fester, and I was only hurting myself. I didn't want to seek healing or restoration, but God had other plans...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
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