Just Tapping In

IRL*This is Jamie Jo's 89th blog post...amazing! Get some rest, dear friend.

Was it Something I Said?

"Was it something I said? "

My “Ask Jamie Jo” question in reverse (since you have no questions for me, then I’ll ask one of you!) is: How do you live with the consequences of hurtful words once spoken but never forgotten by those who took offense?

Particularly, how do you hold your head up and continue in fellowship with loved ones and/or coworkers, who choose to hold a grudge, yet may never let you know what it was you did or said that was so unforgiveable?

The thing about being imperfect is that I can freely forgive those around me, at least for insignificant little offenses. One of my virtues is that I really truly “get” what it means to be loved unconditionally and to be completely and forever forgiven. Thank You, Jesus!

Because of that (and a very forgetful nature in general, which in other contexts is anything but a virtue), I can forgive myself when I blow it. I hate my sin, but I know where to take it for daily/hourly/ continual washing. That’s the greatest blessing in this life as a Christian – being bathed in love and forgiveness.

Being forgiven, I can then forgive myself, and being aware of my constant struggle against this sin nature (and careless tongue), I can easily extend grace to others when they sin against me. Usually.

Ironically the one sin I hate the most is the sin of unforgiveness. I just don’t get it.

How can Christian workers and family members grow old and bitter, daily revising a long and ready list of offenses people have ignorantly committed against them? Maybe they really don’t “get” it – the whole gospel message of forgiveness, redemption, setting the captives free, healing the broken-hearted and all that. In that case, what is the point of their missionary zeal?

What message are we conveying if we don’t demonstrate love and forgiveness?

Help me out here. I want to understand. You see, lately I have been convicted of my role in some broken relationships. When I’ve asked, “Was it something I said?” more often than not, I’ve discovered that yes, in fact, it was. Sometimes the offense was so long ago, I can’t even recreate the scene of my crime to possibly untangle or rectify the damage of my careless words.

All I can say is “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Mostly I just carry on, making new friends, hoping and praying that they are the forgiving type, knowing that eventually I will likely offend them in some way, too. I choose to embrace my friends’ humanity along with all their oddities, and to forgive when they fail to love like Christ.

If only I could more easily forgive when they refuse to forgive me….

Tell me honestly now: What do you do in these situations? Become a paranoid people-pleaser, and keep everyone at a pseudo-happy distance, never saying much for fear of causing offense? Or...?
IRL* Tempting though it is, this seems like a lonely road to becoming un-real.

New Obsession: Hospitality

Surely there is some happy zone that lies between boredom and fatigue, but I’m having trouble locating it. Instead I am swinging from one extreme to the other. During the summer exodus, things were quiet to the point of boredom (except for 4th of July, when the English-speaking community came out of the woodwork).

Now the rest of the “family” is returning, and I am exhausted.

After a week in the U.S being spoiled with hospitality and meals by my new ddil’s family and friends, I was inspired to more fully use what I have to bless others.

Last Thursday I hosted a dinner party for a couple who recently returned from furlough. Included were the couple they are staying with while they are house hunting. Before I knew it, the kids insisted we also invite their youth leaders (plus their two babies). The husband’s mom was visiting from the States, so of course, we included her, too.

That’s how it happened that amid my 3-hour naps to conquer the effects of Dengue, we ended up with eleven plus a high chair and an infant around our table. It was great catching up with those three couples, especially since my dishwashers (aka “dc”) were working.

Two days later, my heart went out to two families who had just arrived after a summer in the U.S. and hadn’t possibly had time to drive to the city for groceries; so yes, we had another dinner party on Saturday night. Believe me, this is not typical for me, but a new obsession with hospitality.

Monday was our first day of school. Jonny (his real name, by the way), my ds, left at 7:00 AM for the MK school in the city, and I started our official year of home schooling the two remaining girls at home. All was fine until dh reminded me that Monday was the day the missions pastor from our kids’ church in California was coming with his wife and a local pastor. You guessed it. They stayed for lunch.

Be patient with me; I’m not quite done.

Then finally there is another family heading out to do their translation and linguistic work in a village, so we agreed to keep their son for six weeks since he is attending the same school as ds. Remembering how hard it was to clean and close down an apartment before going back to the village, I, of course, offered to have their family for supper before they leave.

I think I have possibly gone a wee bit overboard. What do you think?

It all goes to show how one family’s willingness to host and feed my family, extending hospitality during the week of their daughter’s wedding, has drawn out the good in me, causing me to strive to be more generous with my own heart and home. Who knows but maybe their kindness will trigger a whole movement of people blessing others even when it’s not the most optimal time?

And maybe, just maybe, moderation is overrated when it comes to hospitality.

IRL* If I can’t have my own twelve family members around my big ol’ table, it’s still fun to fill it with other people we love.