Donation Denied

I was doing it. I was finally going to be a responsible human being within our society. I was going to be one who gives back. I was going to be about saving lives. I was ready to be a hero. So there I sat, patiently waiting, in a curtained-off cubicle while being asked questions that would make your dirty Uncle Steve blush.

It didn't matter. I didn't care. Now was my moment and I was ready. Hand me my cape... It's hero time!

Sadly, it didn't matter whether I felt ready or that I wanted to help. The good people at the blood donation station had deemed my blood unusable and politely asked me to go home. Before you start worrying (and "thank you!" if you were), my blood was rejected because my wife and I had gone to an area of Mexico for our honeymoon that was at risk for exposure to Malaria. Neither of us has been sick with malaria, but the saintly blood takers of the Red Cross would rather be safe than sorry.

rejected

Walking into that room with all the tables and needles, I had filled my head with thoughts of donating at least once a month if possible. I was ready to give. I was going to make a difference.

Walking out, I wasn't even allowed to think about donating for at least a year. No matter how much I wanted to help and how much I wanted to give, I was barred from doing so.

I've been amazed recently by how much this theme comes up in my life. I want to help... but I can't. I want to fix something... but I'm not allowed.

It is not that I have such horrible ideas; it is simply that I am INCAPABLE of helping. This reality is infuriating, however, because the situations we are the most incapable of fixing often have to do with the people that we love the most.

Imagine this scenario: Your friend is sitting across the table from you, spilling out his or her pain from the most recent issue that has come up. As your friend speaks, you note how each word is filled with insecurity, self-doubt, and negativity. Understanding what is going on, you proceed to speak words of positivity and truth. You say things like, "There is a reason that I am your friend," and, "If you could just see yourself the way I do..." Your friend politely says, "Thank you," and walks away with a smile on his or her face. Two weeks later, you have the same conversation with the same friend with all the same insecurity, self-doubt and negativity.

Frustrating, right? "We've already been over this! Stop believing that horseshit!" But our yelling won't help, and as long as we think we can actually save our friend from his or her pain and problems, we are destined to live in this frustration.

As my good (albeit "nerdy") friend once told me, "Some dragons we are not meant to slay." And as my beautiful and wise wife has said on this issue, "You can't love it out of them." My wife is right. My dorky, dragon-referencing friend is correct. It is certainly good to speak words of love and truth to our friends and family in need, but we will forever be incapable of saving or fixing them. That responsibility is with them and God.

Thus our motives must change. We must love for the sake of loving, not for the sake of fixing. We must share words of kindness and affirmation because they are true, not because they will help. And we must offer ideas and advice when it is asked for, not when it is something "they need to hear." Anything short of this will be tagged for malaria exposure and rejected no matter how much we wanted it to help. On this I am sO positive. (Yay! Blood jokes!)

Hey! Good joke there, Greg!

Wait a Second...

Rather than write this blog entry at some quaint little coffee place, I thought I would change it up. Often times, and maybe you're like me, I find myself desiring the feeling of a quasi-comfy fake leather chair in a heavily air conditioned environment with music containing far too much saxophone playing faintly in the background... and boy did I find it! Can you guess where I am? That's right! I'm in a waiting room.

Look at these folks... just miserable.

What is it about waiting rooms? They contain racks and racks of magazines, but not one article seems interesting or engaging. Music and sometimes television shows are playing, but not once have felt genuinely entertained. And the lighting. Holy crap! The lighting!!! In general, every person in that waiting room desires one thing... to GET OUT!

Sitting here with my laptop, as a radio station (which somehow believes voices are pointless for R&B tunes from the 90's when you have a saxophone) fills the silence, my mind goes back to the subject that we've been discussing at Wallace's Pub for the last few weeks... forgiveness. We argued over the horrible nature of olives and how bitterness (the absence of forgiveness) has the ability to taint everything. We then looked at how remembering, not forgetting, may be our path to forgiveness. Now comes the hard part.

As I'm sure you all know, there is a big difference between forgiving and FORGIVING. Now if we were actually talking face to face, you would have noticed that my eyes got wider and my speech got slower and more emphatic when I said, "FORGIVING," the second time, thus clueing you into my belief that many of us have a misunderstanding of forgiveness. (I just used all caps, bold font, and long explanation instead.)

"FORGIVING"

Real, hardcore, balls-to-the-walls forgiveness is the process of no longer allowing the inciting incident to negatively affect you and determine how you live. It is getting to that place where you can actually wish your offender well, rather than a plague of locusts. It is total freedom. (Feel free to add to this definition in the comments below.)

But this kind of forgiveness, my friendly pub-goers, takes time. So sink a little deeper into that faux-leather chair and develop a taste for that sexy sax, because you're going to have to wait. It takes time to allow God's love and truth to overwhelm the pain we feel right now. It takes time to believe that maybe our offender actually didn't know what he or she was doing... not completely. It takes time to understand that letting go is more victorious and takes more strength than revenge. And sooooooo... we wait.

Yes... we will get frustrated.

Yes... we will become impatient.

No... there isn't a quicker fix.

And no... they may not change.

But we will. Our hearts will soften. Our lives will be ours again. This is the hope and beauty of "FORGIVING"

If you don't believe me... just wait. 

p.s. You know what might make waiting rooms better...

... just a thought.