Life is People-y

I love my job. Really, I really, really do. But my place of employment has had a few rocky years. Every once in a while, we come to a point where I say to myself, Okay, time for a fresh start. The old issues are over. The people who were discontented have left or are appeased. Now we can move forward and have peace.

Bu-u-ut no. There’s always something.

I’m starting to come to terms with the fact that even though I love my job, there will always be stressors I’m dealing with. Because as my colleague says, it’s a very people-y job. And people are . . . well, people.

People are wounded. Everyone has been damaged by someone and bears the scars. And that damage often bleeds out in our behavior toward others.

People are fearful. They are afraid of making mistakes. They are afraid of saying the wrong thing. They are afraid of confrontation. They are afraid of burning bridges. They are afraid of being labeled and unliked.

People are selfish. Even when they want to be self-less, they have selfish tendencies that tend to rear their ugly heads. And this is even more true when their kids are involved. Being selfish about our kids doesn’t feel like selfishness. It’s protectiveness. Mama-bear-ness. It feels just and right and admirable.

Most of all, people are multi-faceted. In my literature classes, we talk about round characters – characters who change in a story or whom we see more than one side of. Every flesh-and-blood human being is round. We have many sides . . . and sometimes, when we suddenly see a side of someone that we haven’t seen before, it seems like they’ve changed. They’re not who we thought they were.

That has happened to me a lot in the past few years. People who I loved and thought I knew well suddenly displayed a side of themselves that stunned me – and caused all sorts of dissension and disruption.

I spent some time this weekend with a friend who is struggling in her marriage. She vented a lot at my house, which was fine. We all need a safe place to do that sometimes. But I was pleased to hear, first of all, that she acknowledged her own problems. She knew her reactions to her husband were as much of a problem as his behavior. That’s important. We have to own our own part in things.

But more than that, I was happy to hear her recognition of his woundedness. She isn’t just sitting around lambasting him for the way he treats her (which isn’t good). She knows this behavior comes from something deep within him. She very much wants to understand him and for him to understand her so they can work things out.

I was so grateful to hear that she’s starting there. It doesn’t make it easy . . . but, praise God, it at least makes it doable.

That's always where we have to start. I'm broken, and you're broken. And sometimes our wounds don't mesh well. But I want healing for your wounds as much as I want it for my own.

We can't heal each other -- that's God's job. But we can get credit for an assist if we're willing to put our own pain aside for a bit. That's so much more productive than pecking at each other's scabs and being so . . . so people-y.