When I first started blogging, I began sharing my trauma narrative through my robot I named “TILT.” I wrote about my camp experience of getting stung by a large family of nasty yellow jackets. Well guess what happened this summer. We had a friendly group of bees that liked going under our sliding glass door. They made it a habit of going in and out. Then one day, I was down in my wood shop, and all of a sudden, those “friendly bees” started to dive bomb me. As you may have guessed, I got triggered, and I got out of there ASAP. Once it was dark, I took a spotlight and looked up in the corner of my wood shop and discovered a big hive with bees all around. Mama Bee locked her angry eyes on me, so I quickly decided to bee gone.
Being the fearless leader of this family, I asked favorite honey-supplying, Amish friend, Mr. Miller, what to do. He connected me with his Amish neighbor, Dennis, who came with his bee specialist friend to take a closer look at my bee hive to see if they could use it for making honey. The bad news: they were yellow jackets, not bees. The bad news: they didn’t want them. The bad news: I had to take care of them myself. The good news: they told me what to do. The good news: my neighbors supplied me with all the supplies necessary to eliminate my predators before they stung me. The good news: no more yellow jackets. The good news: I didn’t get stung. The challenge: learning to overcome my fear and deal effectively with misdiagnosed communities.
Yellow jackets are sometimes like people. They like to be left alone. If you get too close to them, they may attack you. Unlike bees, they can sting you multiple times if you keep getting too close to them. Sometimes we think we’re doing the right thing by approaching people who look lonely or disconnected. We think we can help or save them by showing them love. Sometimes we discover, after we’ve been stung multiple times, that they have unhealed hurts that were projected onto us. All their nonverbals said, “STAY AWAY,” but we didn’t listen. The hurts we’re stung with become our most painful teachers when it comes to understanding people who have been hurt. They must be ready. And we can’t help everyone.
Sometimes we misdiagnose our community. We see the Amish living differently, and we judge them. I’ve found the Amish to be some of the most caring people in the world. This summer, they’ve raised almost all the vegetables we’ve eaten and have canned for the winter. They’ve sharpened my mower blades. They’ve helped solve my “bee” problem. And when I affirmed Mr. Miller for having such great friends, he responded by looking me in the eye and saying, “You’re my friend!” Wow, we have some much to learn from people who are different from us.
Sometimes we misdiagnose our neighbors. We see them acting a little strange, so we keep our distance, or warn our kids so they don’t go near them. And then we actually rob them of the opportunity to become our friends and be our neighbors, and we protect ourselves from knowing and loving them. My neighbors keep showing me that I need them and that they care.
Sometimes we’re the misdiagnosed people that no one in our community seems to understand. People may keep their distance from us because we’re different or because of something we’ve said or done. Sometimes we’re the ones who need to be the bridge builders, and apologize, and take steps to be reconciled. Other times, we need to initiate forgiving people who have hurt us and take steps to restore our faith and trust in them. It’s easy to build walls instead of building bridges. It’s easy to hold grudges instead of forgiving.
But when I look at the life and teachings of Jesus, His teachings and example are so clear. We must love one another. We must love our enemies in the same manner that we love ourselves. The way we show God’s love is by forgiving in the same manner in which we’ve been forgiven. We’re called to judge not so we don’t get judged. In fact, we’re not supposed to diagnose people in the first place. Instead, we’re called to love one another deeply from the heart.
Who do you tend to misdiagnose and keep at arm’s length?
Who is God calling you to love?
Who is God calling you to forgive?
How will you respond?