I’m convinced that there’s no right way to deal with crisis, pain, and stress.

I’m convinced that all the right ways of dealing with crisis carry with them shadowed areas.

I’m convinced that my way of grieving and dealing with this stuff elusively captures much of my own dysfunction.

I’m convinced it’s just all one big mess…and that’s ok.

My dysfunction is to have no feeling or opinion, to keep myself buys with things that don’t really matter (our books need to be categorized by color don’t they?), to genuinely be fine…even when I shouldn’t be. For example, I ran into a number of different people yesterday who innocently asked how I was doing–and my rote response was “I’m doing really good!” …but then I had to pause most of those times to say “well, I mean, I’m doing ok. It’s been kind of a rough day…” It was the best I could do. Saying I was good was actually a lie, but a lie that I believed until I cognitively compared it with reality. My friend Steve kind of can’t stand me because he’s one of the most genuine guys I know and so when he asks me how I’m doing and I respond with “great” or “fine” he believes me (shoot, even I believe me) only to find out that there were great things in my life that I shouldn’t be fine about. It drives him nuts and he’s a good enough friend to call me out on it. And I love him for it.

Anyway, I’m getting in too deep in the wrong direction. What I want to talk about is you. Some of you deal with the brokenness of life in a similar way as me. Others of you deal with brokenness in other ways–good ways, healthy ways, ways that you’re created to respond in. Each way has its baggage for sure but that’s just part of the whole.

Some of us get angry when things break. Some of us have major fears triggered by brokenness. Some of us get busy with menial things (me!). Some of us put our heads in the sand. Some of us go into depression. Some of us resort to indulgence. Some of us cry a lot. Some of us talk it through while others clam up. Some of us are compelled to fix it. We’ve all got our ways.

I firmly believe that not a single thing listed above is inherently worse than another (and please don’t think I’m trying to create any sort of exhaustive list. Essentially I’m pulling a Brick Tambland looking around the room to see what comes to mind. I’m surprised I didn’t include something about some of us loving lamps) They’re each different and they’re each valid and they each carry their dangers. I probably SHOULD be more angry than I am. Anger is justified right now though to live in anger and allow it to control me would lead to unhealth.  I should have a genuine measure of fear regarding my situation. Fear is justified, but it shouldn’t control me. Sometimes keeping my mind busy with goofy tasks like organizing my paperwork is helpful but if it keeps me from ever engaging with reality then it becomes a toxic pleasure. The list could go on and on.

We each deal with shit in our own way–and we’re each invited to not be controlled by it but to be freed to be who we are, to be freed to live into the identity that God gave us and is shaping within us. As humans we were created perfectly beautiful but we’ve grown a layer of tarnish. Anger isn’t the tarnish and neither is being a fixer and neither is being a busybody and neither is a season of depression. Part of how God created me allows me to write freely and give you a window into my journey of learning to grieve…but if you were around me…if you saw me day in and day out you (and Steve) know that my baggage makes it hard to be honest with myself about what’s going on. I’m fine. I’m always fine. Being always fine is my ‘tarnish’ coming out. At times it makes me look good… awkwardly even heroic sometimes…but it’s just another picture of how we’ve all got our ways of dealing with grief…tarnish and all.

Crisis invites us to have our tarnish polished up a bit in hopes that we might better reflect the beauty of the one who created us in their image. Kind of a crappy ride if you ask me…but what do I know I’m too busy reorganizing my library by color, shape, and title to notice.