You know those view finders you see at the monuments? You pay the 25 cents to look through a REALLY long lens that brings things from meters (sometimes, miles) away to just a few feet. You’ve seen them, likely used them. You can suddenly see the details in the monument, where an artist has used their delicate craft to make details you wouldn’t be able to see otherwise. You have a new appreciation for the work completed, the artistry used and the time taken to craft such a masterpiece. Now you CAN’T see that piece of art without seeing all those details once hidden, until you got to see it up close.
This week, I’m trying to examine my view finder. Let me explain.
Recently, an old friend reached out and wanted to apologize for things long past and forgotten. It would aid their healing, knowing they had made amends. I, of course, was open to the idea and accepted the apology. I’m a forgiving person. No bad blood left. No hard feelings.
But here’s the thing. That burden they were carrying was heavy. And I was blissfully unaware.
Have you ever realized someone is carrying a burden that you have contributed to and didn’t even realize it? You know the kind of grief I’m talking about? The person is alive. They’re out there living their life, completely, blissfully unaware that they have contributed to the weight that you’re dragging behind you. Maybe you lost touch and they grieve your presence in their life. Maybe you had a fight and set boundaries, always looking at the battlefield from your own trench you dug, surrounded by the words you remember and the hurt you felt. How righteous we can be in our own anger and denial, right?
The thing is, the war that took place years ago between this friend and I? I only ever saw it from my side of the battlefield. Damage inflicted to me. Blame cast like cannons from my trenches. “Sure, I made mistakes. But they did more. Said more”, I’d tell myself. And so I take a closer look from my viewfinder. It’s been a long time, maybe I’ll see something I didn’t see before. Concentrate on the details I couldn’t see before, now large & in my face. And I don’t like what I see. It’s not pretty. It’s messy. Man, does it take courage. Seeing the places you drew blood with words or actions and suddenly, the fine details you see from feet away are old scars you never even knew existed. Bandaged up just like yours. Ouch.
But then, I know that my view finder isn’t the only one on the field, right?
So, I try the view from the other side of the battlefield.
It’s uncomfortable. And even messier. And I really want to turn it back around to the opponent’s “stuff”. But that’s how I know I need to sit with it awhile. I grow in the places where it’s uncomfortable. We all do. I don’t know that there’s much more I can do or say other than “I’m sorry, too” but I’m committed to learning from it and making sure I remember that we never see the whole picture.
I learned an important exercise years ago. Take a piece of paper. Poke a hole in the center. Look through it. Simple, right? That’s how much of the bigger story going on around us we can see.
It always reminds me that the places where we need gentleness, grace, kindness & mercy are all around us. In the places we can’t always see. We just have to be intentional about the view.
Heather Hilbert 