Musical chairs

It's astounding to me how easily we feel judged. Humans are so fragile in every sense. One moment we're happy, the next thing we know the slightest thing sets us off and we're in a spiral heading right for rock bottom.

It doesn't take much.

I've been pondering why discrimination and hate seem to be the facade of disagreement. I am not speaking for all people, but for myself.

I am fearful of other people when I know we don't agree on every little thing.

If someone disagrees with me, I probably can't be friends with that person, right?

If I tell her I don't use a crib yet for my baby, will she talk about me when I'm not around? If I share my stance on gay marriage, will I lose that friend? Fear is a rock solid door we keep closed, and intend to let other people walk into. We must protect ourselves and our feelings. What we believe is law, and it must stay that way. If someone disagrees, our world will shatter, and we cannot function.

Apparently law is but a vapor we can't even keep in our own lungs. If other people's opinions hurt our "laws" so deeply, it's no wonder we get so defensive and feel so threatened by a differing opinion.

This entire situation, though, is reflecting sometime else.

A friend recently asked Caleb how we handle conflict in our marriage, and how we fight about stupid stuff. Caleb shared his answer with me this morning.

"Well, it's more about the problem behind the problem. There's a deeper reason why she's angry about  something."

That's the truth of it. Good job, Caleb!

If I'm upset about Caleb forgetting to take out the trash, it's probably more that I'm frustrated about how I needed someone to watch Selah when I was running late for work earlier that day, and he couldn't help me. The trash has nothing to do with it.

There's a deeper reason why there's a reaction of some sort. The tip of the iceberg has been sighted, but the more dangerous side is underneath the surface, and must be sorted out to avoid further damage.

And so it is with differing opinions about something.

Am I really offended that someone started solids earlier than I did with my baby?

No. It's scaring me that maybe I'm not doing a good job being a mommy, and I already accidentally knocked my baby on the head when I was trying to brush my teeth a few hours ago, and I'm still struggling not to feel guilty.

It's not about solids. It's about a deeper fear.

Do I care that much about how many minutes another baby slept for at night?

No. I'm afraid that I'm doing something wrong, or being neglectful and failing at one of the most important things I'll ever do with my life.

Am I really that angry at Caleb for not helping me change Selah's diaper after dinner?

No, I'm not. I don't mind changing Selah's diapers. I just miss being the only girl in Caleb's life, and I'm really just missing when it was just him and me. And to top that off, I feel bad for feeling that way. But to defer my uncomfortable feelings, I'll act upset about the diaper changing instead.

We try so hard to simply deflect anything hindering our "self-esteem," our feelings of assurance in some way.

If someone disagrees with a belief I have, it doesn't change what I believe.

It exposes my insecurity with my own abilities to uphold any convictions I have.

We're weak.

We need to get over it.

We so desperately need a Savior. We're a bunch of lost sheep, afraid of each other, and desperate to get along, but only for our own personal gain.

Ugh. Lord, help.

If someone agrees with me, it's only affirming to the inner-Shaina I keep on a throne in my insides.

When someone says, "Yes! Me too!" it's really like someone else approaching my throne to fan me and say, "You are perfect, and the center of the universe."

When someone disagrees, it's like someone left the steps of my "throne" and said, "Someone else should be there."

So, no I don't hate someone who disagrees with me. But I am afraid of them. So when these other people disagree with me and I am exposed to my own weakness and frailty, I'll decide not to open up anymore. You may not approach my throne.

I'll try to stay away from these people.

They'll feel like I hate them.

I don't. I just need Jesus.

We. We need Jesus.

If He is the one on our "thrones," we wouldn't have any more problems.

The musical chairs in my own heart is a sickening dance. How many times do I kick Jesus off His throne so I can try to sit there, and then be upset and push everyone away?

It's not my seat.