One Person's Tranquility is Another's Terror...

I love to swing! I can remember, as a child, I loved the feeling of the wind in my hair, and the sense of flying. I can remember swinging so high and so hard, that the swing-set in my backyard would ever so slightly lift up off the ground. I can remember wondering, "if I go high enough, would I be able to wrap around the top post like the gymnasts do on the high bar"? Whenever I was swinging, it felt like all of the cares of my little world would slip away; just for a few moments.

Eventually I stopped swinging. I guess I thought I was too old to swing, or maybe it was because I started experiencing motion sickness and swinging was no longer fun. Either way, I stopped. One of the last times that I got on a swing, I was an adult. It was near the shore in California and looked a lot like this picture. It was exhilarating to swing out toward the water, but there was also a low grade level of fear of falling off of the swing, or some other unexpected doom that could arise. I no longer found the same sense of joy in this activity, but it was fun to remember being a kid on a swing.

I love, love, love the ocean! I was 19 years old, newly married, and on my honeymoon the first time I saw the ocean. In that period of my life, I should have been consumed with joy and celebration of the beginning of my life as a wife with the man I loved, but in the midst of it all there was an element of turmoil, loss, and uncertainty. My parents were getting divorced at the same time I was planning my wedding. It felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me. Standing on the shore, staring at the waves and the immense expanse of water, I remember vividly thinking in my heart, "if God can control something this large, surely He can handle whatever is going on in my life".

Seeing the ocean brought a tremendous sense of peace that day. It did not change my circumstances or take away the problems, but it helped me to believe that it could get better. To this day, whenever I am experiencing seasons of uncertainty or I am feeling overwhelmed by life, I long for the beach. I always get a renewed sense of peace and tranquility from watching the waves rolling in and out. Listening to the sounds of the surf, the birds, and sometimes distant horns from ships passing by. There is something about it that pulls everything into perspective and reminds me that God is a big God, and He is still in control.

I love thunderstorms! Living in Arizona, rain is a rare commodity. This year, we have had a record number of days with temperatures over 100 degrees; it has been brutal! There were about three days in the midst of this season of extreme heat when there was a brief rain and some thunder. In those moments, the thunder and the rain represented reprieve and refreshment.

I did not always have positive feelings about storms. I lived in Missouri until I was almost eleven years old, Our house was located along the top of a ridge in a wooded part of Missouri. When storms came through, there was always loud, rolling thunder that sounded like God was playing with a giant bowling ball on a wood floor. It was the kind of sound that could make you shiver with fear, and wonder if it would ever stop. As a child I would long to snuggle in bed with my big sister and be reassured that we were sheltered from the storm. I longed to feel safe and confident that I would be protected from harm. There were many things in my lifetime that felt like storms, and I needed a place to find shelter, but could not find it. Through the years, I came to understand that like actual thunderstorms, in the middle of the most intense parts of the storm, it feels like it will never be safe again, but in time, the storm subsides, and a sense of safety returns.

These are a few of my favorite things that have significant, positive experiences attached to them. At times I have thought it impossible that anyone would not love the things that I love. How could anyone not see the beauty of the ocean? Who wouldn't love swinging, or listening to a thunderstorm? We cannot know what stories others hold in their hearts and minds that these same things that are favorites of mine can strike fear, grief, and terror in them.

Spending time with others and hearing their stories and experiences has helped me to gain a different perspective. I have come to understand that what feels safe, soothing, and comforting to me, can be someone else's greatest nightmare. Some have experienced horrific life events related to the ocean; hurricanes, being shipwrecked, or tsunamis have left a lasting impression that the ocean is in control and is dangerous. Tornados, cyclones, severe flooding may have created a tremendous fear of storms and a sense that there is no safe place or shelter from the destruction of a storm.

There are so many different experiences that we have each had that can cause us to react or respond differently to the very same things. I have given examples of some of the most extreme experiences one can have, but there are many, subtle experiences that create the same sense of fear and lack of safety. Lack of nurture and neglect as a child creates a huge barrier to connecting with others. Living in an environment that is critical and unpredictable can create a strong sense of self doubt. Living in a neighborhood where there is crime or extreme poverty can create a sense that the world is not a safe place. These types of experiences and many more can lead to a myriad of fears, phobias, and challenges in having capacity to engage with others and with the world.

It takes courage to share our authentic self with others. It is so easy to compare ourselves to others and allow those comparisons to create a wedge between us without ever having spoken a word. It can feel vulnerable to share about things we struggle with, or that can cause us to feel paralyzed, but if we do not tell our stories, we cannot be understood, know, and accepted. If we do not take the time to hear another's stories, we are missing out on gaining understanding and insight into another's experience of the world. We miss out on giving and receiving comfort, on experiencing what it feels like to support or be supported by others.

Sharing stories also provides opportunity for healing and growth. If I only walk through life in my own perspective, I cannot grow in my understanding of why others behave the way they do, speak the way they do, love the way they do, or live in silence the way they do. I can go on swinging by the ocean under the pending storm clouds oblivious to the needs of the person huddled on the ground behind me, or I can get off of the swing, sit down beside them and offer my presence to help them find strength to weather the storm. I can invite them to share their experiences, and I can share my experience, strength and hope.

Isn't that what we are called to do? Offer love. Offer acceptance. Offer kindness. Offer to walk alongside another on their journey to finding hope...