Your silence is confusing me

Recently I had a relationship go silent.  I had sent a proposal, was expecting a reply—and nothing --just the deafening roar of silence.  I needed an answer.   With every day of silence, my insecurities grew stronger and more persistent. 

As my inner voices became louder they wrote scripts that went something like this:  Day one—he must be busy; Day two—maybe he’s going to reject me and doesn’t know how to say it;  Day three—I wonder if he treats all his friends like this;  Day four—I guess he’ll never respond.  So, how am I supposed to respond eight days after a deadline?  (I’d tried a couple of gentle nudges to see if I could get a response.)

My natural response is to be hurt and respond hurtfully.  (Hell hath no fury like an insecure ego ignored!)  And in my heart I know that type of response is rarely helpful.

In God’s providence I’d just entered a coaching relationship with a godly man and I share his wisdom with you.  (BTW, if you are looking for a coach, you should investigate Ministry Coaching International, www.ministrycoaching.org)

Dick said, “I find that my confusion and ignorance rarely intimidates anyone.”  So, if you ask,” I’m confused about where we are now, can you clarify our situation?”  You won’t start a war but rather open a dialog. “

I so like that advice and because I’m sure I’m not the only one who gets insecure when people are too busy to respond, I share it with you.

Here’s the deal:  I wanted to say, “Why haven’t you responded?” which attacks and places blame on him. 

Dick taught me to say, “Help my ignorance and confusion” which gets the same information but allows the blame to rest on me.

As a follow up, Dick suggested that acknowledging my insecurities and what they do to me further defuses the situation if it becomes necessary.

With my bare hands and a 2X4

I heard the dog barking, saw blood dripping from a neighbor’s goat, and immediately was transformed from mild mannered Marc Bigelow to protector of the flock with murder in my eye.  I don’t say that lightly.  I was bent on killing those dogs with the 2X4 gripped so tightly in my hands.  I had reverted several layers down Maslow’s hierarchy and several centuries back in civilization. 

This morning I read 1 Samuel 17. 34 David replied to Saul, "Your servant has been a shepherd for his father's flock. Whenever a lion or bear would come and carry off a sheep from the flock, 35 I would go out after it, strike it down, and rescue the sheep from its mouth. If it rose up against me, I would grab it by its jaw, strike it, and kill it. 36 Your servant has struck down both the lion and the bear. This uncircumcised Philistine will be just like one of them. For he has defied the armies of the living God!"

Now I wasn’t facing a bear or a lion, but I think I could have killed one of those dogs with my hands had it been necessary.   Such is the protective urge inside of us.

For David, the height of his protective instinct was to strike down the Philistine because he defied the armies of the Living God.   I’m still in a bit of shock over my own reactions, but today I’m wondering if I would be as concerned about protecting the flock of God from a marauder.   I think about some elders and pastors I have known who have stood boldly against someone attacking the church and then I think of others who cave in to cynicism and agree with the critics of the church. 

I re-read Ezekiel 34 and Acts 28 today.  As church leaders, we are called to protect with our lives the flock God has entrusted to us.  It calls for calm at times, but it also calls for wild-eyed adrenalin pumping action at other times.    Shepherds know when to do both.  But remember, sheep need calm leadership, wolves need bold confrontation.

Three Goats

Yesterday I tried to rescue three goats from a pack of dogs who were attacking them.  The largest goat eventually had to be put down because he was too badly injured.  As I ran to the neighbors to help I watched a drama that is so appropriate at Easter.   While one dog savagely attacked the big goat, the others ran into the stable to attack the two smaller goats.  Though bleeding profusely, the big goat ran into the barn to help save his two little companions.  He drove the dogs out at least twice while I was running to help. 

In driving the dogs away from the smaller goats, he ended up giving his life for his friends.  One of the little goats was hurt, but will survive.  The other was uninjured.  Had it not been for the big goat, those smaller goats would have been killed.  Though dripping in blood from numerous injuries, the goat kept fighting until we arrived to drive off the dogs.

Jesus laid down his life a sacrifice for you and me.  Without the defeat of Satan, we all would have been destroyed.  Some of us “little goats” have been injured in this life, but we will recover because Jesus refused to quit until Satan was defeated.