{ me, grade 1 }
True story: A woman at my old workplace would go out of her way to be super-duper friendly to me. She’d stop me in the street as she drove by, rolling down her car window to wave to me, to chat at the stoplight, even. I let my guard down and let her in. My weirdo-radar (apparently an obsolete model) gave me no indication that I should keep my distance from her. So, I didn’t. After a few months of this easy-breezy-chatty-friendship, I found out that she and another woman I hardly knew were spreading rumors about me that were totally untrue.
I was speechless. Really. The fact that someone can even conjure up something sinister about my life (whose highlight is going to the 7-11 for some spicy tuna sushi) is pretty exciting—oh, I mean really, very sad. My first reaction was to defend myself to “everyone”, to show them my resume, let them talk to my pastor and best friends who could vouch and attest for me that I am indeed a non-evil-entity and someone who can be trusted not to eat the very last piece of chocolate in the box because she thinks so of others more highly than herself. Truly. Kindof.
My next reaction (and this sickens me to say) was to be extra nice to this woman! As in, there is something wrong with me and if I were just nicer then she will take back everything she said and I would be okay again. As in, more truthfully, I didn’t have the courage to confront her and ask, “What the hell are you thinking and talking about, woman?!!!”
As time went by, I began to ask look more objectively about the situation. I began asking myself what is it that makes a safe community? What does “safe” really mean? And finally, how can I be a safe person? Here is what I’ve come to:
Safe means you don’t have to wonder if what I’m telling you or presenting you is the truth or not. Safe means you can trust me, really trust me. Safe means that I don’t judge you, that I am unshockable, that I am humble, that I am the first to admit my wrong and the first to say I’m sorry and really mean it. Safe means I will be vulnerable with you and expose the truth about who I am and that I will risk rejection and judgement in order to be my true self. Safe means, I talk openly about my doubts, fear, anger, joy, disappointments, selfishness, and envy, rather than pretend I’m not human, even if I use the occasional cuss word (as if I think God can’t hear my private grumblings or isn’t there to witness my outbursts with the pee-cat. Again.)
Safe means that I need to be as honest as I can be with myself and with you. That means, I need to say what I really feel and think, with as much honesty and kindness as I can possibly muster.
If it gives me the heebie-jeebies to smile and share a hug with someone, only to have them whisper something snarky behind my back, then I can’t be that kind of person. So, safe means that I don’t make snide comments about others becuase if I do, you can be sure that I’m saying those things about you when you're not there to hear (note to self: stay away from folks like this). That means if I have a problem with someone, I need to be courageous enough to address it directly with them—not get anyone else involved through a “venting session” or a “as-a-gossip-session-cloaked-as-a-prayer-request” and if I find that I don’t have the yayas to confront that person, then really, I just need to shut up. Seriously.
I need to not take myself oh-so seriously; I need to be able to laugh at myself and give others the benefit of the doubt and extend grace when they make a mistake and fess up because this is the kind of grace I need extended to me daily. I don’t want to be the kind of person who says, “Well, I told you so!”. Safe means being real all of the time. Safe means not wearing any kind of mask even if it makes other people uncomfortable because real is always better than fake, even if real is messy, vulnerable, embarassing, shocking, dirty, messy (did I say that already?), un-Christian-like (remember David and Bathsheba and David’s cover-up attempt?!, someone God calls a man after His own heart—go wrap your brain around THAT one!). Basically, if I think it, and I harbor it in my heart, and I talk secretly about it in whispers, then I should also be unashamed to say it here, discuss it there and everywhere—because even if I pretend, God knows the truth. He always knows.
And looking and sounding good and holy to others just doesn’t matter if it’s not real; it just doesn’t, not one squat bit.
So, this is who I am and who I am becoming. A real girl, with flaws and too many words and commas, and too much body fat from eating Klondike bars for lunch. A girl who is still learning how to love Jesus without guile, without shame. A girl who isn’t afraid to tell it like it is (mostly) and is learning to love myself. A safe person that people can trust because they know what they see is what they get and that’s the whole of it. Period.
Up for discussion:
What are your thoughts on being a safe person? What would you add to
this description I started here? Who are the safe people in your life
and what about them makes you feel safe?
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