THOSE WILD EMOTIONS

I love to see genuine, uncontrollable emotion. I love it in all forms. Uncontrollable laughter. Unbridled enthusiasm. Profound grief without anger, and emotion that wells up in your throat and stops the words.

It’s been a long time since laughter has taken total control. Maybe I have seen too much and heard too much, but I miss that surprise that sends me into laughter than makes my eyes water and nose run (strange mixture). You see unbridled enthusiasm at sports events and you will see it on Super Bowl Sunday. But it is an incredible gift in the eyes of a child when grandpa tells them he is taking them to Disneyland. Grief in its purest form is a tribute to love. The tears flow and cannot be stopped as the loss is so profound. C.S. Lewis expressed it this way, “We hurt so much because we loved so much.” Then there is the emotion that sneaks up on you and catches you by surprise.

If you remember the old telephone commercials produced before cell phones and we were all tied to land lines. When I went off to college mother told me to write often but don’t call unless it was an emergency. Phone calls were too expensive. So, many did not make too many calls and we all tried to avoid the long distance calls, especially if money was tight. Those 30-60 second commercials got me in the tear ducts every time. “He called home.” That’s the right phrase. It was usually a son calling his mother. We are the neglectful ones, rarely the daughters.

I love it when it happens in church. It tells me the speaker feels this very deeply. It has touched his or her heart. It catches them on a level they did not expect and they communicate that response on a level deeper than words can express. That happened to my full loving, happy-go-lucky, exuberant pastor this morning and I heard his heart deeper than ever before.

When I speak I can rarely get though a talk without that happening to me. There are times I wish it didn’t happen. There are times I am embarrassed because I didn’t expect it would happen. It usually comes in connection with a story. For me it has to do with talking about my family.

That is not the only times, of course. Either my tear ducts are getting bigger or I am becoming a big bag of sentiment. When I got home from church and prepared lunch I sat down to eat and watch TV. I turned on pair’s figure skating. The couple they just introduced were third or fourth after the short program and not expected to climb above second. Everything was great as they started and they just got better and better and more perfect as they went. When it was over they were embracing unbridled joy and my tears rejoiced with them. Then when they won I gulped a few times trying to stop the water works. If I counted all the times in a day that my emotions bring me to a tear or two there would be a dozen on more.

Before our pastor spoke I was about to take the offering with a mother and her seven or eight year old son working with her. The pastor acknowledged the “usher in training.” And used it to talk about all of us using our time to step in. He then asked the boy if he wanted to pray for the offering and much to the pastor’s surprise, he said yes. Tears instantly came to my eyes. It was touching and beautiful. He had one very proud mom, and there was a very proud congregation as well.

I got caught with a lump in my throat a few more times in that figure skating program. I even ached with each fall. A few weeks back my granddaughter played in a semi-final soccer match. If they won they advanced to the finals. The teams were tied at the end of regulation time and she had scored both points for her team. There was a shoot out to determine the winner. Five players for each team would take turns kicking. Grace was first. She missed, as did the next nine. The final shot was by the opposing team and she hit the mark. That was a good reason to cry with her. Weep with those who weep.

But here’s the kicker. I was watching NCIS Miami tonight. A routine program, but two potential suspects were twins separated at birth. The victim was their sperm donor dad and both had contact with him. One needed his birth dad for a liver transplant. Both families were at the station and at the end both were put in the same van together for a ride home. I know it was written to make us feel this way, but you could see it in the eyes of the health one. He knew he could save the life of his before unknown brother. They got in the van and are looking at one another and the door closes and the program ends. I cry. It’s s dumb TV program. Nothing is real. It’s pretend and I still cry for the dying boy and the healthy one’s growing love for his brother.

Get a grip. I must have been saving up tears for years because they pour out for the least little thing. It was a TV show I was barely watching. I was trying to read a compelling book at the same time. I barely knew what was happening, but that moment got me. We are emotional beings. I love that about people. I could do without the anger, but its all part of the package that God gave us all. We just have different amounts of each. Anybody want some of my tears?

I TRIED

Have you ever done what you believed you were suppose to do, what you believed God wanted you to do, and everything just got worse. I did. I was sure I was to apologize to Maria for setting her up to take a shot at her bitterness and unforgiving attitude. I didn’t mention specifically why I was apologizing just that I was sorry for being so confrontational. Even though I did not accuse her of anything and accepted full responsibility for our argument, she is angrier now than before. She believed I was apologizing to attach her further for not forgiving me or anyone else she hates.

I guess the positive side of this is that I will not likely get in another argument with her. I also will never have another conversation with her. Neither of these situations is especially troubling. My life will go on much the same. She seems to always have someone she hates bitterly. I have been on that list and while not completely off, she as least spoke at times. We talked about the amount of time I could handle.

Don’t misunderstand. I do not believe a single thing she said about the conflict between Chas and CW. Chas did not start anything. I asked several people about what they remembered of the confrontation from the BBQ night. No other person remembers Chas saying anything. Nothing at all. Naturally, that makes me even more furious about the lies she told. That did not give me the right to attack her, even thought it was kind of fun – but wrong. It was wrong. Yes, it was! O will certainly have more peace.

I don’t know if I will be able to deal with the second issue. I have had great compassion for CW. Don’t get me wrong. I think he needs to go to a place where he will get the kind of help he needs. I do wish that had been found instead of simply evicting him. That is like Pilate washing his hands of any responsibility for Jesus. It’s fishy.

On Sunday night I saw him loading things into a pickup truck. I don’t know if tat means he has left or not. No one has seen him.

That’s my update. It hasn’t taken care of my emotional overload. Maybe it’s hormones. Maybe it just that time in the month (never had it before, but . . .)

EMOTIONS GOT ME

I am an emotional mess. I am teary about everything that is tender and about all who are dejected. The emotions began at the end of the first service when a young man left the church and I reintroduced myself to him. I know I had asked his name before, but could not remember him. The worst about it was there was no reason.

Josh had lived in Kitsap County his whole life. He looks like a navy guy. No unexpected since so many around here are with the navy. But he isn’t. What impressed me was that he is very regular and appears to not know anyone in the church. At least I have yet to see him speak to anyone and no one seems to speak to him. He is very friendly and we spent a few minutes getting acquainted.

There was no reason to get emotional and he was long gone before it hit me. I was excited and proud to know a young man (early 20’s) coming to church alone and sticking with it without any obvious connection to people. I have no idea why that hit me in a tender way — but it did.

I was off to my middle grand daughters soccer game that afternoon and saw many injuries. Three within five minutes and one had to b carried off my face dripped. I do hate to see anyone hurt.

I went with friends to the see play South Pacific that night. There are several tender moments and the actors carried the emotions and I had tears running down my face. I could not stop them. When we learned Lieutenant Cable had died the tears ran. I know this play. I expected his death. Shish! Get yourself under control, man.

It was late when I got home so I picked up my J.A. Jance book Trial by Fire where Ali is in the burn unit of a Phoenix hospital and the victim’s struggles were described in detail. It’s fiction. Get a grip. (I’m shaking my head).

At coffee this morning, Maria came in to get some coffee and would not acknowledge any of us. I imagined the cold shoulder was directed at me because of out argument. I can usually sluff that stuff off. But my emotions kicked into high gear. I hurt her. That bothers me. I retaliated tit for tat. Sick. I got my licks in but wished I had swallowed her vindictive comments and kept quiet. I didn’t want to, but that ma is the still small voice of God speaking to me.

At 1:00 we have a birthday celebration and very few came. But CW showed up. He clearly did not know where to sit. Only the staff person spoke to him. He came and sat at a table next to me. I said hello, but was at a loss as to what else to say.

I had errands to run before I cam back to get materials together for our craft fair. I considered and teard up wondering of Maria would not back out. I didn’t want that. Then I put in a the movie, Father Damian, the story of a priest who moved on to a Hawaiian Island with lepers and ministered to them until his death from leprosy. He did all the right things loving these people as Jesus would. I think I’m cried out now. At least I hope so.

Friends, that is the voice of God talking and I hear Him loud and clear. I will let you know what happens when I obey that voice — first opportunity I get.