Today This Happened at Work

I understand if you are left speechless. 

Swiss Cheese Personalities

So as an aspiring therapist half way through my graduate school courses I tend to continually assess the people I interact with on a daily basis. This has not come as a result of my graduate school, I think I've done this my entire life, so therapy is more of a natural fit for me. I have a natural curiosity about what makes people think, feel, and behave the way they do in the circumstances that they are in. When I'm in an entirely healthy and surrendered place, this assessment trait of mine is quite useful to relate and empathize with others. They feel loved and I feel connected without any value judgement being made. When I'm in a selfish or defensive posture, this trait can be manipulative, judgmental, and just plain cruel. The trait itself is neutral, it's the inner disposition of my soul that needs to be held accountable toward loving others.

Some people are more open than others to hearing feedback on my thoughts. All of my best friends share a willingness to listen to myself and others speak into their behaviors and ask questions about their motivations. Of course this is reciprocated and I also try to have an open posture for others to do the same to me. The freedom I have found by not pretending to have my shit together and to let others speak into my life has been such a relief. Who was I fooling all along anyway?

But then there are people who are resistent and defensive towards anybody who hints that something may be a little bit off in their life. And I do mean anybody. I'm not talking about a healthy boundary that guards against someone who they don't know and don't trust shaming them. I'm talking about the people-- I think we all know them-- who refuse to be reasoned with about their obviously defective behavior. It seems that anybody in a position of authority that could critique them is somehow disqualified. These people think that their pastor is an idiot, their boss is incompetent, their family is crazy, and their professor is unfair.

As someone who is very introspective, these people can really set me off. Their inability or, better yet, unwillingness to let others hold a mirror up to them drives me crazy! How can you go on so unaware and blind to your own behaviors? But hey-- I've certainly had my own stubborn pride in my past and I'm sure even now there are areas of my life that have yet to be uncovered that are harming me and possibly others.

One of the biggest defenses I hear from people who don't want to look at themselves is a boasting about another successful area of their life. You see this a lot with people who struggle with alcohol abuse but make lots of money so somehow that means that they don't have a problem. These "high functioning alcoholics" have a higher potential for arrest and death than the drunk who is on the side of the road. The drunk on the side of the road is a lot closer to knowing about his own unmanageability and asking for help than the millionaire accountant who just bought his second home. Or how about the 21 year old college student who is addicted to pornography but is leading bible studies through his church? He looks really good in his small group and people really enjoy his thoughts and ideas, so the consequences for his acting out are much harder for him to see.
It is very difficult to speak into the lives of these two people because somehow they see an intervention on their acting out behavior as a threat to their entire person. To that I offer the following analogy I picked up in class tonight. We were talking about assessing for "developmental holes" in a client. These can be big indicators as to what your forms of treatments can be with them. Think of their personality as a slice of cheese. A perfectly healthy, well adjusted, emotionally mature, securely attached person is going to have absolutely no holes to speak of. Everything is going to be filled and whole. Jesus Christ was a nice slice of cheese. Complete and whole, lacking nothing.


You and I? We are swiss cheese. Because of the fall of man, because of sin, because of wounding, pain, fear, selfishness, and more we have holes in our being. Does this mean that we are evil? No. It makes us human and in a beautiful way it allows us to connect with each other in our imperfection. I may have a good job, in graduate school, and serving at my church but I'm fooling myself if I believe that those things make me completely whole. And I'm doing myself and those close to me wrong in thinking that just because I have a nice thick piece of cheese in one area, that I am not empty and lacking in another. This past weekend I was confronted by a very close friend for something very cruel that I did months ago in an effort to make others laugh. Is it fair of me to say, "Oh yeah I know I did that but I don't have an issue with insensitivity and cruelty because I'm generally a loving and kind person who is empathetic and in a lot of ways courageous!" Of course not! People are messy. People are whole in some ways and empty in others. Sometimes it's confusing as all get out how one person can display both strong positive traits and strong negative traits but believe me my direct family is living proof of that.

But let's scale it back just a little bit and drive it home. Let's say you are typically a wonderful worker at your job or in your classroom. If a boss critiques a report you turned in or an interaction you had with a client, are you willing to hear that feedback? Or do you take it as an attack on your entire worth as an employee and gossip about him after he leaves? If a professor in one of your courses gives you a C on a paper you wrote, are you willing to listen to his assessment of your writing? Are you willing to consider the possibility that he could be exposing a hole in your cheese? Or are you going to point to the part of your cheese that is thick and full, like the rest of your GPA, and immediately discredit the professor as unfair and irrational?

I am no where near perfect in this regard, but I invite you to join me in this journey of realizing our own swiss cheese personalities and accepting others feedback and assessment when we get it. Take it as a gift, because people, especially those closest to us, see us physically exponentially more than we see ourselves (unless you're a narcissist with a mirror in your face all day I suppose). It might be possible that they have a much better view of us emotionally and cognitively as well. They may see the holes in our cheese a lot easier than we do. If they approach you relationally and gently, chances are they are right.

A Desire to Desire

I just started reading the Bible consistently for the first time in my life about a month ago. I always grew up learning scripture through going to Church but I never had a dedicated routine the way I thought a good Christian should. When I got into college I would have sporadic quiet times where I would read the bible but nothing every day to day.

Then about 2 months ago I started to read Walking With God by John Eldridge and in that book I marveled and the real and authentic relationship Eldridge is able to have with God. I wanted what he had and I started to pray that I would desire God more and more. Since then I have been reading scripture quite a lot. In reflection I think I have started to realize why the Bible would turn me off in years past. I would read the Pslams or the letters of Paul and I would compare my experience with their writings. This discrepancy between the two would be filled with feelings of guilt and doubt. I don't know if I ever consciously named it, but when I would leave those times feeling empty and jaded it's as if I was brushing scripture away and saying "It's too confusing to read this because I can't relate so I'm not even going go try."

Today God pinned me down in a quiet times and challenged what my desires in life are currently. I started to think and started listing them off. Most of the desires are good desires that I know God has placed in me. But then He told me to read Pslam 42.

Psalm 42:1 As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.

Pant - To long demonstratively; yearn.

If I were to write this verse in my current experience it would say:
"As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for graduate school to hurry the crap up so I can graduate already." 
or 
"...so my soul pants for a girl to make me feel better tonight because I don't feel good." 
or 
"...so my soul pants for a legitimate head coach for the Chargers to finally instill a sense of pride in this team."
But rarely does my soul pant for God. Sometimes it does, and I always feel closest to Him and most at peace with myself during that time but it's not my consistent experience. 
Tonight God reminded me that it's okay to be honest with where I'm at with Him. Somehow I always forget. So I ended up praying something like this:

"God I have so many desires in my life and the thing is most of them are months away from being attained and there's really nothing I can do about it. But here you are ready and attainable and I don't desire you the way I want to and the way the writers of the Psalms do. But I desire to desire You in that way."

Bingo. 

I knew that that was enough for Him. What a beautiful place to start. I want to desire God the way I desire a National Championship for Aztec Basketball or a Superbowl ring for the Chargers. I want to desire him the way I desire this girl I'm quite fond of and think about often. I want to desire him the way I desire sleeping in after a long night of fun. So I got this sense that there's a lot of grace for me right now and He's going to honor that desire and place that deeper in me. 

The Name Of This Blog

I named this blog after one of my favorite bible verses:

1 Corinthians 1:25-28 Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. For you see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called: But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God has chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty;And base things of the world, and things which are despised, has God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nothing things that are:

One day I want to write a children's book called "The Things Which Are Not". I don't know what it's going to be about yet except for a theme that speaks to kids who struggle with finding their self worth because their strengths may not line up with what our culture values. 

I'm a pretty popular guy at this point in my life. Most people like me and find me interesting. Sometimes I even get to take an attractive girl out on a date or two. But growing up I had huge insecurities and I was one of the more unpopular kids in school. 

Some insecure kids try to earn their validation through other means like high academics achievements. I went to a charter school my senior year of high school to raise my grades high enough to make it into SDSU. I think I graduated high school with a GPA around a 2.5. Some insecure kids try to earn their validation through sports, I was 5'4 heading into my junior year of high school and was always one of the worst players on any youth team I was a part of. Some insecure kids try to find their validation in their physical appearance. For some absurd reason I wanted to have a flat top through early years of high school. Combine that with braces and two fake teeth up front and I was not a very attractive teenager. 
So some insecure kids are quiet because they've learned that when they are the nail that stick out, they get the hammer. That lesson never caught on with me so I was constantly trying to earn my worth through humor or acting out to get attention. 

I was not smart (at least academically), I was not athletic, I was not good looking, and I was not wise enough to keep quiet. All that attention I received by trying to be funny was mostly negative attention. I envy people who say they enjoyed high school, my experience was anything but a safe and positive environment. 

Most people are surprised when I tell them I was bullied through high school and quite unpopular. I suppose at some point I grew up socially and began to realize all the things that I would need to do to win at this social game of life.

But here's the thing, that 15 year old, insecure kid that begs for attention is still me. Sure my braces are off and I've learned a few lessons but I can't turn my back on that 15 year old Matt or else I'm just recreating the same rejection he went through at 15. I'm doing the same thing to him that others did to him. 
According to the world (which in high school meant the jury of popular kids), I was foolish, weak, base (meaning uninteresting and boring), I was not anything anyone wanted any part of. 

And God chose me. Chooses me. To tell my story and be of influence in this world to others who struggle with their identity. 
Some of my current friends tell me that I am so confident when I speak in front of groups or when I flirt with girls. That doesn't come from an inflated sense of ego and thinking that I'm the man. It comes from realizing that I'm not, but that's not where my validation comes from anyway. 

Don't hear what I'm not saying: I still struggle with wanting the approval of this world, but day by day I've come to realize that I don't want to play this game anymore. 

Sometimes I wish I could go back to 15 year old Matt and tell him he doesn't have to strive for others attention. But then maybe if he didn't have to face the rejection that he experienced he wouldn't have had that gaping hole that caused him to search for something more. I'm glad I went on that search, because it forced me to face God and realize I had transferred all of the qualities I faced in this world onto him. 

"Why would God want anything to do with me? I'm not what he wants."

"You're right and wrong Matt. You are not. But you're exactly what I want."

Rylan

Rylan.

I don’t know if that’s how you spell his name.

I met Rylan in Belize. My best friend Jay and I were vacationing away from our busy lives (he works in finance in DC and I am full time employee and full time graduate student.) We were on the beautiful island of San Pedro on our second night on the island and that's when my story with Rylan starts up. It is the slow season for tourists (because it’s warm temperature in the US) so we’re in a pretty empty bar having some drinks. Jay and I are talking and Rylan walks over to talk to us. Rylan is a local Belizian who has dyed his hair blonde. It’s straight and wavy. He’s average height but very skinny. He starts asking us about where we’re from and what we do and it becomes pretty apparent that Rylan is testing the waters to see if we’re gay. I am NOT being overly sensitive or defensive, he was flirting with us. I mean I can’t really blame him, San Pedro has a population of about 7,000 people on it, most everybody knows each other and I’m sure he knows just about every gay man on the island. Two young guys vacationing together in Belize is certainly worth scoping out considering his circumstances.

Anyway Rylan is with his friend Brittany (an American living in San Pedro) who we also got to know pretty well. I could do an entire blog about her too.

We spend a lot of time with both of them as the week progresses. They are both filthy rich and very young. Rylan’s aunt is the former mayor of San Pedro and his dad owns a waterfront bar that is very popular. His entire family comes from money and from talking to him I can tell he has faced very little consequences in his life.

He drank a lot while we were there. From talking to him and Brittany it appears that it’s just what their life is. Neither of them work or go to school. The culture of the island is to party, from their own words “There’s not much else to do.” 

One day we are all eating lunch and as Rylan was placing a spoon full of beans in his mouth I notice his wrist. All up and down his left wrist are scars. Rylan has apparently been a cutter at some time in his life. Perhaps he even attempted to commit suicide, I don’t know. My heart dropped as I begin to try to understand where all that pain comes from. I begin to talk more and more to him and Brittany about what his life has been like and what his aspirations are and I settle on this fact by the end of the trip: Apart from his best friend Brittany, Rylan doesn't belong anywhere.

Let me back up by explaining to you what Rylan is surrounded by and I'll start with what I observed of the culture of Belize.. They aren’t too different from what I would experience going out in Southern California.  Most people wear shorts, t-shirts and sandals. There’s a simple and relaxed atmosphere that makes people very friendly. The common language is an English creel, which fascinated me. The most popular sport there is basketball (love) and there are pick up games at most times of the day. Most people work in some form of the tourist industry, meaning a lot of long hours and physical labor. The guys there are big. The public schools are poorly educated and most men start to work full time in their mid teens.

Rylan was put into “The Island Academy” when he was very young. This private school is where the rich Americans, Europeans, and Belizians of San Pedro send their kids. It’s a few miles south of the main part of town and the teachers there are Americans. Rylan never learned the native creel language of Belize. He said he can understand it but will never speak it. He’s never had to work and so he's spent a lot of his time in doors; his skin is just as white as mine even though he is Belizian. So here you have a rich, homosexual, local who does not speak his own country's language. If you spoke to Rylan you would think he was probably a kid from a big coastal city in the USA. So maybe he would do well in the states. But here’s the thing, we were having lunch one day and Rylan was talking about how one day he wants to move to San Fransisco. Brittany laughed and told him she doesn’t think he could ever make it in the states. In San Pedro he’s a big deal. He can do whatever he wants without facing any consequences. His laundry is done for him, his meals are provided for him, he lacks nothing. She said the simple tasks of living in a big city would be too overwhelming for him: public transportation, paying bills, abiding by laws that have consequences.

Well what about his family? Even when all else fails we can at least fall back on the safety of those relationships. Parents who raised us and nurtured us and want what is best for us. While Jay and I were there, Belize was celebrating it’s independence day. On an otherwise very fun night filled with fireworks and dancing, Rylan had way to much to drink. Brittany and I decided it would be best if we took him back to his apartment. We hopped in her golf cart (the most common form of street transportation, only taxis and government vehicles are cars) and began to drive him home. We were sitting in the back and I was holding on to him making sure he didn’t fall back off the cart. Rylan lay on my lap and clutched at my hand. I felt for the kid so much in that moment. I started praying for him. How long had he been abusing alcohol to cover up the all the pain in his life? Probably for a while. Rylan’s apartment was on the second floor of a building. To enter into it, you walk up a spiral staircase on the outside up about 12 feet and it puts you onto a balcony with no railing or fence. As I was trying to get Rylan up the stairs, he became coherent and pushed my hands away. He ran up the stairs and before I could grab him he threw himself off his balcony back onto the street. It scared the shit out of me. Brittany and I rushed to him to see if he was okay and he was somewhere in between laughing and crying. Thank God nothing appeared to be majorly injured. Brittany started yelling at him saying that she’s calling his dad and he can’t scare us like that. Rylan cracked a smile and drunkingly uttered something to the extent of “Brittany, you know my family, they don’t care about me. I could die tonight and my dad would be relieved.” My heart broke. The kid was the furthest thing from stable I could think of but there was no lie in his eyes and tone. His personality certainly didn’t scream of someone who had been fathered much either.

So here is Rylan. He doesn’t fit in with masculine male culture of the island because he’s gay. He doesn’t fit in with the common Belizians of the island because he’s rich and he doesn’t speak their language. He really doesn’t fit in with Americans either because as much as you would mistake him for one, he has never learned basic functioning, or at least enough to “survive” in a big city. I believe Brittany when she said that. By all appearances he couldn’t boil an egg. Then you have his family that has allowed this 18 year old kid to live alone in an apartment and by his own accounts, would feel relieved if he died.

And I began to think about belonging. How as humans we have an innate desire to want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves and to have that thing accept us. This ranges from family to football. We want to belong. A sense of belonging gives us something to fall back on when life is tough.  Recently I went through a really tough break up that has left me with a few nights feeling awfully lonely. Lonliness is the worst. I feel so utterly trapped in the midst of it and if I’m not careful I can go into any number of numbing mechanisms to escape that. I can drink too much, watch too much TV, become obsessive with sports, or eat myself into a food coma. I’ve tried to be as intentional as I can to not turn to those things and to allow myself to just sit in this feeling and invite God into this process instead of turning to the world’s “strength” for comfort. In the midst of the loneliness, I have sensed God’s invitation to connect with him and other men in my life. To be of more service and go to work on a lot of my character defects (I’m back in counseling). I didn’t belong to my girlfriend anymore and in that absence I have sensed God’s invitation, “come belong to me”. With that has come growing closer with my guy friends, has come growing closer with my older brother Trevor, has come being intentional about talking on the phone with my best friends in other cities. I don’t belong to Kyleigh anymore, but I have belonging.

Rylan has no belonging. He’s a burden to his family, an outcast from his society, and a stranger to America. I regretfully never spoke to him about his view of God, but I can only assume he has a very distant relationship with Him, if one at all. Of course he’s going to medicate with alcohol. Of course he’s going to dramatically cry for attention by jumping off balconies. Of course he’s going to wound himself and despise himself by cutting his wrists. He has no place to belong.

Brittany was so upset at Rylan as we were driving him back to his apartment that night. All I could do is hold this little kid and pray that God would do a miracle in His life. “You have a home Rylan. This world will never be it though. You have a Father that cares so deeply about you. God please show Yourself to Rylan. Break through the lies and hurt, and pain, and rejection and speak the truth of Your love in His heart. Don't give up kid. Stay safe. God bless him. You are a God of miracles. Show him that He belongs in you.

I don't have facebook because I realized it was another way I could escape my feeling and numb out. I say that because I couldn't "friend him" when I got home. I pray he's doing okay. That God has worked a miracle. That Rylan has found a place that he belongs.