The Danger for Bridge-Builders

After almost two years of reflection of my life, I found one term that really identified with my heart of hearts: Bridge Builder.

This started long ago for me; twenty years, in fact. As is common for many people, I grew up in a family where my mother and father did not communicate well. Truth be told, my father doesn't communicate with anyone well - he communicates at, not with. He was a hurting person seeking his dreams, seeking to be understood, however he felt the solutions were that others around him needed to think, live and be different.

My family started to crumble very early on, and the reasons aren't important. (Side note: my mother is a valiant spirit and I cannot express my admiration enough as she sought to bring healing then and in the years that followed). The reasons weren't important but as I looked at my life I saw that what happened to me at that time was very important.

Being a compassionate person is a beautiful thing. Being compassionate yet also severely insecure can be a curse. When I was old enough to recognize what was going on with my family it caused a break inside. A little crack in the foundation started. As most boys do, I wanted my father's approval and admiration. He was dissatisfied with his life, though, so rare were the times when he was at ease and happy. Being far too empathetic and sensitive to his dissatisfaction, I projected his feelings upon myself and felt that it was rare when he felt happy with me. It is so sad how often this happens with children.

As I grew older and began to mature in my thinking and beliefs, I started to take an active approach to try to bring healing to the family. I became a bridge-builder. I became an interpreter of my father to my family. I would interject when he seemed upset or angry and attempt to show that I understood how he felt, and explain it to my family. Feeling somewhat understood and justified, my father would typically calm down and the conversations would take an upswing. This continued after he moved out of the home, during my years at college and years afterward. I made myself his bridge to my family - one which tried to keep everyone connected.

The problem with this behavior was that I became what a bridge is - a footpath, something walked over. I made myself a means to an end. A bridge that sways, where boards break, where the ropes come unraveled is useless so I had to be strong, had to keep firm, steady and reliable.

I spent so much time being a strong bridge that I never filled the crack in my foundation. The insecure boy who needed his father's approval never healed. I became strong for him and for my family...yet every time I saw him and spoke with him, I longed to know I was a man. Accepted. Worthy. Ignoring those feelings only made them grow - made the crack in my personal foundation expand

I made myself a strong bridge to substitute a feeling of connection for actual connection. I found a way to ease strife in the home but never took time to tend and protect my own wounds. I turned myself into a tool rather than being the hurting person I was because I thought it would make things better.

Being understanding, listening and encouraging healing between others are all wonderful things! My warning is simply this: don't set yourself aside when doing so. I disengaged my heart so I could take on this role and it became easy feeling numb to the situation, to the crying boy inside.

Being numb is not being healed.

If you are a bridge builder, encourage yourself to place a "guardian" on your bridge. The guardian stops travelers at the entrance and tells them they may only pass if. The if is what you know you need: respect, recognition as a person, healing, anything. Your guardian must be courageous and strong to show travelers  that there are rules and should they not be followed, that the bridge will be closed.

The guardian is you. For your own good you must take a stand and say, "this bridge has an owner, and his rules must be obeyed." The practice is not as much for the travelers as it is for yourself. You are a person of unique creation and worth, filled with a compassionate and caring heart and you need to be courageous in valuing and respecting who you are as you interact with others. Placing a guardian on your bridge forces you to recognize the importance of your own self, to see that you are not just a tool, a means to an end.

Never be only a bridge. Don't numb yourself and say "I'm okay, I can handle this, this will make it better for everyone" if you have a weak foundation. Trying to be the sure footing for others is impossible if your bridge is pulling away from its anchors. You must remember that you need to protect and always strengthen your foundations. Let your guardian close the bridge if work needs to be done.

As for me, my guardian is in place. The foundation cracked on this bridge and it is not safe to travel. I recognize my hurt now, I recognize my wounds and I know I need to heal. My bridge is closed and should it ever be rebuilt, it will look much different and there will be many rules - both for the safety of any travelers, and for myself.

A House Built on Sand

Matthew 7:24-27 (NIV) The Wise and Foolish Builders

(image from: http://www.lbimemories.com/)

24 “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25 The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. 26 But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. 27 The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” 

When my life began to crumble around me in 2009 the passage from Matthew above rang in my ears daily. After years of marriage, hard work building a life together, things were falling apart. I couldn't shake the knowledge that I must be the foolish man, building in vain on sand.

Yet something about the image never really connected. I knew that the life I'd been striving to build was a good one and one I was proud of. I didn't feel like the foolish man, however circumstances certainly seemed to make it all too clear that I was.

It wasn't until I had reflected on that passage for some time that I realized I'd always pictured the house the foolish man built as a kind of shack. I imagined a bearded, unkempt man struggling to hold up flimsy walls with old rope and throwing cheap planks on top for a roof. I never saw my life as something half-hazard. I'm responsible and put a lot of thought into my plans and actions.

Late in 2009 it hit me: it doesn't have to be a shack. A foolish man can build a mansion on sand.

(Image from: http://americanvision.org/)

This made the passage from Matthew suddenly connect with me. Thus my first realization:

For a house built on sand, using the best materials and the most skilled workers only prolongs the inevitable. My house has been well built but has been built on sand.

I didn't go through seven years of marriage casually or recklessly. Far from it. Our life together as a unit was hugely important to me. Emotionally, financially, relationally, physically, spiritually - I worked hard to make sure we were working together on all fronts - that we had the best materials. I had wise counsel from many male friends from countless discipleship groups to help guide me - the most skilled workers. The life being built looked great. It looked solid, sturdy; it was something to feel proud of.

Yet it was built on sand.

There was a bad foundation - there were things in my heart affecting me every day that were causing me to slowly crumble. Depression, loneliness and self-hatred were tearing me apart inside day after day. I kept working on our house, kept improving the life we had but my own foundations were caving in. After time I lost footing...and fell.

Why do I share this? It was helpful to me to make a distinction between valiant effort and foundation. I see now that I was pushing ahead day after day - and doing good work! - but no effort was going to change the fact that I was building on sand. It helps me to give myself credit for what I did do - I did build well and with all my heart. And it helps to recognize the problem - there was a lot of healing I needed and was not allowing.

So to you: May you build your life using good material and the help of many skilled workers. But may you never put hammer to nail if you feel the ground sinking beneath you. May you have the courage to cease striving, to put all plans on hold and instead examine your foundation. Though it may take years of living in a tent to do it, if you need to heal first - do it. Find the rock of your foundation first, then build with joyful abandon.


  

The Traditional First Post

My first blog. Odd. It's 2011 already and I've never attempted one before. Does MySpace count? Does anyone remember MySpace? Anyone?

Well, why now? Why this blog with the strange name?

The last two years have been a major upheaval in my life. Everything I thought I knew, everything I believed about myself and where my life was going has been through fire. As fire does, many things were consumed and became ruin - ashes and smoke. Other things were refined and became stronger. I once was married and unhealthy. Now I am unmarried, wounded and healing. I once felt dry and dead inside. Now I taste blood every day and it reminds me I'm alive. Once God's grace was a powerful term. Now it's the breath of my life.

This blog isn't about sharing something new. I don't have anything original to say that has not been said by so many men before me. This isn't some new wisdom I've gained that I think will improve the world. That said, I've learned a lot about respecting myself and giving myself credit as a person. So this, while perhaps not wholly original, is still MY story. Telling my story is healing to me. After the fire goes out the cleanup must begin - and it goes slower if you try to hide it.

The walls went down, the roof collapsed and everything inside has been scorched. All that remains is the foundation. Part of this cracked too, and this is the subject of the next post. You are welcome here - welcome to this ruined house, the public disaster. If you can stand with me here I'll tell you how we got here as best as I know. And if you'll help me lift this rubble I'll show you something I recently discovered - there is still undamaged foundation here. Some parts survived the fire. Care to stand with me as I clean up?