Sensitized





A few days ago, something happened, and it basically ruined the rest of that afternoon, the rest of that day, the rest of that (this) weekend.




It wasn't one of those things that hits you right away. It gradually unravelled my life and my composure.




And the thought that entered my head was, "WHAT DID I DO WRONG??" followed by, "HOW ON EARTH AM I GOING TO FIX THIS??"




Few things trouble me as much as the concerns of parenthood.




"GET A THICKER SKIN!" some yell.




"GET OVER IT!"




"YOU'RE TOO SENSITIVE!"




And then they start telling you what you could do better.




Because, you know, they know your kids better than you do.




So, I spent a good deal of time this weekend wondering if I was too sensitive, and needed to buck up, as they say.




And I decided, no.




What is so great about being calloused?




And hard?




Stony?




Desensitized?




Are those virtues??




No. And the scriptures often warn against being hard-hearted.




And commend those meek ones, those sensitive ones.




Now, I'm not talking about being emo here, and letting your emotions get the better of you so you are a worthless mess (although, I did a lot of that).




What I am talking about, and want to accomplish, is being sensitized, and having the wisdom to know how to put it into action; to act with a heart full of sorrow, anguish, or absolute joy, and do it beautifully, gracefully.




There is so much freedom in this.




With a stone-cold approach, you are limited to indifference, or worse, contempt.




And with children, that is never okay.




With anybody, that is never okay.




God wants us to feel, and to feel deeply.




I've been called sensitive, and it's not generally said as a compliment.




But I say, open your heart, and feel. For the love of everything holy, feel, and feel deeply.




Love, and love deeply.




Be sensitive.




Because, only then, can God talk to you.




And I need Him to talk to me.




As my self-control speedily melted, I yearned for some experienced person to give me guidance, and direction, comfort, a thread to hold on to.




And I concluded that the only person who could give me the comfort of pure understanding was God.




Jeremy, looking for the same peace, turned to me and said, "Let's pray..."




And I was ashamed of myself. Too ashamed, and I couldn't. But I wanted to. And knew He was there, and would be when I could raise myself up enough to kneel.




So, please...Feel. Let God mold you, guide you, love you, and I'll be there, too, learning how to be better.

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