Last night I had a tough phone call back home. My dad and I talked after a few weeks of radio silence and there were a lot of tears on my side of the phone. I am still working through emotions about the election and new administration. I am still trying to find compassion for an administration I desperately disagree with and those who elected him into power. I know they had their reasons. I am convinced they are still good kind people, but how could we be so different? Yesterday, my phone call reminded me that family is the best and most difficult training ground for loving well. I was also reminded that family is the perfect training ground for practicing forgiveness and rediscovering hope in the Trump Era to reunite our divided nation.
These are reflections I made a few months back, but the truth in them remains relevant and accessible today. I continue to look for ways to actively seek justice while living in abundant forgiveness and compassion. One woman that continually inspires me and who offers more resources on working through difficult relationships is Christena Cleveland. Check out her new blog, Wellness in the Age of Trump and Terror for more resources and tips.
Family and forgiveness
I want so desperately for them to be on my side that it feels nothing less than a betrayal when it turns out they aren’t. It hurts in a way that recognizing a stranger’s differing opinion doesn’t and can’t. It’s as if I were built piece by piece in their presence and by their hands. When faced with the reality of their views being contrary to my own, I am forced to question the authenticity and validity of the very views I hold personally.
How did the same patchwork come together to create a world with a pattern of circular greens and blues for me, while theirs formed rigid blocks of black and white? Was I sewn together by a different thread yet given the same brand name and logo? As questions invade my mind, I take a deep breath and remind myself that it is both unfair and unwise to pretend we were designed with the same scraps of fabric. The fabric that quilts our lives are not bursting with the same stories, no matter how similar our upbringings were. Thus the quilt of our own experiences will never come together to leave us with the same pattern and worldview.
Each of us had just as much her/his own experience as we did our shared, but still it hurts. These are the people I want closest to my heart, but in some regards they are further from it than most. This is not to say there is nothing in common between us, for that would be denying the ubiquitous love we share for one another. Don’t forget, love covers a multitude of transgressions on both sides.
Family is the best and most difficult training ground for loving well. Family members are given to us. We did not choose them, and if we were given the chance, we probably would not choose them. As fate has it, we weren’t given the choice, and stitched into every inch of our being we share a common thread and blood. We are connected and that connection demands our effort even as it simultaneously pushes us to the edge of our capacity to love. Then, it audaciously dares to push further, to break the boundaries of our limits.
I bite my tongue more than I once did, but I’m far from perfect and sometimes I crack. I say cutting things and dismiss the feelings that I poise to hurt. Whether these hurts are vocalized or not is irrelevant. The hurt that follows need not be heard, it is felt. I do all this in order to accomplish—I’m not sure what, because it certainly doesn’t make me feel any better after I’ve done it. And it can’t possible bridge the gap of misunderstanding.
I choose to ignore when it seems like too much effort will be required. Instead of drawing close, I count the days until I can be with people I’ve chosen and wasn’t just given through blood. Whether I run or hide for a short time, I always and forever am compelled to come back. That’s what families do. They love and forgive until it hurts, and then they wake up and do it all over again.
I hope you can find some encouragement and renewed energy to engage in the tough conversations we are called to. This is not the time to remain silent. As our country divides more and more, remember to strive for rebuilding unity and growing in compassion. Family is the perfect training ground for practicing forgiveness and rediscovering hope in the Trump Era. Be brave and commit to connection, not division.
Based off original post found here.