Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

How to help you grow.


Growing, changing, learning, discovering--all some of my favorite things. It's the process that I love, rather than the final destination. In the middle of things, I usually find myself wishing for something more straightforward, more cut-and-dried, longing for some concrete, step-by-step instructions to just figure it out already! Yet, in the end, that isn't what satisfies me because that isn't what makes me grow. That isn't what makes the lessons part of who I am.

I've learned this about myself over the course of the past few years. And I love seeing that same process in other people. The problem: I'm not very good at letting that process happen in other people, especially those closest to me.

So often, I see someone struggling with something so similar to what I've dealt with in the past. I want so badly for them to come to the same understanding that I have--lessons in grace, thankfulness, joy, perseverance...whatever it may be. Unfortunately, I tend to lay it out for them as a step-by-step plan of action (or try to condense all of the details and connections and everything that made my experience meaningful into a little bite-sized speech that loses its significance). I forget that God doesn't work inside a box. He doesn't work the same way in every person. The lessons might ultimately be the same, but the process by which they're learned is unique to each person.

God is personal. He's relational, and that's how He teaches us. The way He communicates with my best friend or my boyfriend or my little brother might be completely unrecognizable to me at first glance...

...and that's a good thing.


It's such proof of how well God knows each of us, not just on a surface level but deeply. He knows how our minds work, He knows our hearts, and He knows exactly what makes us tick. He gets me enough to know to communicate with me through books and lyrics and falling leaves. He knows the jumps my mind makes to connect seemingly unrelated ideas into something so profound.

He knows I'll get it.

If He can do that for me on such a deeply personal level, won't He do the same for everyone else, communicating with them in ways that I might not understand?

The thing is, I understand the concept mentally. I get it. And that leaves me here: how do I live like I get it? How does it look in real life? Because that's what I want to do, both with my life and in my relationships.

I want to be able to foster that kind of growth in other people without resorting to giving unnecessary advice and telling them what they need to do.* I want to help other people discover the answers for themselves, because really, that's what it's all about anyway. That's how we grow, and I want to help people grow. I want to be able to step back and let God do His thing and not get in the way. Still, there's a place for human influence. Where's the balance between sitting back and doing nothing and going too far?

I don't know.
I don't have the answers this time.

This is one of those posts I can't wrap up nice and neat, because I'm still trying to figure it out myself. So I'm asking--have you ever wrestled with this before? I know that the answer varies from situation to situation, but what have some of your experiences been?**

And, I don't know. Maybe this is one of those things that can't ever really be answered, because it can't be put into a box. Maybe there isn't an answer. Maybe it just has to be lived and figured out along the way, different for every single situation. And maybe I need to be okay with that.

*I definitely think advice has its place, but right now, I need to learn not to give it. I have a tendency to think I have the answers, when in reality, I don't at all.
**Think about this in terms of personal relationships, like friendships or marriage or even children, on a spiritual level. That's where I struggle most. How do you help someone grow spiritually without trying to give them all the answers?

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Springtime and thunderstorms

Credit: Unknown
Listening to: "He Said" by Group 1 Crew
(Not usually a huge fan of theirs, but I seriously love this song. It's been stuck in my head for days. It's so catchy!)

(Quick sidenote: I wrote this post awhile back and am just now getting around to publishing it. I'll try to update you guys on what's been going on with me lately ASAP!)

I read something the other day that really stood out to me.

"Spring is for tornadoes and rainstorms as much as it’s for brilliant afternoons and bulbs poking fresh petals through damp dirt."*

Remember back in October when I wrote about autumn and the interesting balance of beauty and pain and how you can't have one without the other? At the time, the point I was trying to make was that pain always brings about a special kind of beauty that can be found nowhere else. Now, I'm beginning to see the other side of it as well.

When I think of spring, I tend to think of the happy, sunny side of things. It's when everything is coming back to life, when I can go outside and throw Frisbee and lay in hammocks, when it's warm and green and just beautiful. Everyone always talks about "waiting for spring" in a metaphorical sense, referring to life, waiting to come out of a painful situation and experience the good, happy side of life again.

We forget that even spring isn't all about the sunshine.

Spring is all about new growth and change and coming to life. And that happens to require a few thundershowers along the way. Yes, the most most difficult part--the dying that comes with autumn and winter--has passed. Still, spring has its own kind of pain, the kind that can only come with coming back to life after a long winter.

I'm finding that every season of life has its own kind of pain--or at least it should. Some runs deeper than the rest, but still: it is all pain. Pain, to me, is a sign of growth. If I am changing, growing, becoming, then pain is going to be an inevitable part of that.

Learning to truly love someone is hard.
Learning to accept grace and His blessings after realizing how much I don't deserve them is hard.
Learning to not stop seeking Him first, amidst the busyness of all He's given is hard.
It shouldn't be, but it is.

They're good things, all of them. But they are not easy.

Spring isn't always easy. But the beauty of it is always worth it.

So here's to accepting spring for what it is: rain showers, sunshine, flowers, and a little bit of dirt. It's all necessary for the incredible growth that it continues to bring.

*From Sarah Markley's "The Brilliant Beckoning" at (in)courage