Tip of My Iceberg

There’s so much information in my head right now I swear it’s falling out my ears.

It’ll have to. Nothing else will fit.

This past week of training was more than a series of “aha” moments and brilliant sparks of clarity. Learning more about how we’re put together with unique talents, learning to work from those talents to experience success in how we’re made isn’t just a fun head trip.

It deeply impacts relationships.

Surprise, surprise.

After a boatload of years together, I figured John and I knew each other. Pretty well, at least. But after the training last week, another moment of insight hit me.

I’m from Venus. He must be from Neptune. Or infinity and beyond.

We work at becoming familiar with those we love and live with. With those who are important in our lives. And intuitively, we all know that no one thinks like we do because we recognize EVERYONE is different.

But I act like everyone thinks just like I do. Life would be so much easier if everyone did. Then no one would question my motives or perspective. Or wonder how I got to where I ended up.

Something John does a lot. Not because he doesn’t get me–or doesn’t want to get me. Because I don’t think like he does. When we sit down to talk–or discuss loudly–I bring a filter of talk, moving through a situation quickly and letting go of the past because it’s gone.

He always considers the past, always wants to know how what has happened impacts now and pushes back at moving forward at break-neck speed.

He’s a rules-follower; I’m a rules-adaptor. He sees lines drawn in the sand; I step over them.

I deeply love this guy. And I’m finally seeing–because I’m a visual learner–that he needs me to embrace that different filter. Just as much as I need him to embrace mine.

He wants to be known for all that he is. Which is not just my experience with him or what I see in the moment.

I want to be known that way as well.

We all do.

In the Wizard of Oz, the wizard gives the Tin Man a heart, the Lion courage, and the Scarecrow a brain. Something they each already had. It just didn’t show up in them the way it did in other people. They had to learn that for themselves.

They had to learn it together. In community.

They wanted to be known for who they really were. In spite of how they appeared.

I want to be known; I want to be valued for who I really am. The way I am.

Jesus does that for me.

“I am the Good Shepherd; I know My sheep and My sheep know Me–just as the Father knows Me and I know the Father…”   John 10:14-15a

Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice so we could all be shepherded by His loving care. Reminding us that He knows us better than anyone. Loving us in our individuality, through our unique filters.

Who I am is God’s gift to me. It’s being patient to learn how to use it well.

In community.

No matter what planet I’m from.

Second photo courtesy of loc.gov.

*From the lyrics of America’s song, Tin Man.