Nearly two weeks ago I went out for dinner with my friends & as we sat around the table I couldn’t help, yet again, thinking how blessed I am to have this amazing community. Unfortunately the moment was slammed with another thought, “The last time I had an amazing community of friends my brother died. Why do I have this community? Who is going to die this time?”
Lately I’ve been very aware of fear in my life. It’s like my heart is conflicted in a beautiful tension of feeling paralysed & breaking down walls or lies. Let me give you two battle grounds where this is going on.
Firstly, I love my community of friends here; so much so that I made a decision to be very intentional about not letting anything happen to it. For example, our group has guys in it. The fastest & surest way of division happening is to like someone & they don’t like you back.
So I purposely set out to make sure no guys could pick up a signal of interest from me & misinterpret it. In fact I was so set on doing this that it was a surprise to me last Sunday when one guy said to me, “But I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship. You keep saying you don’t want anything to compromise this community & family.”
I realised then that I can think I’m communicating clearly but what I’m communicating may not be what people hear. I do want to be in a relationship, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of loss, of rejection, & I’m afraid of losing my best friend (at least you should be BFFs if you’re dating them?! Haha).
After Mike, after my last relationship, after saying goodbye to the UK… I’m not closed to relationships at all, but my heart is fragile to loss & change. This community is my family, I’m scared that too will go away. Yet, if a guy does come along in my life, I do want to be brave enough to jump in.
The second battle ground is this. One of the coolest things about this group of friends is they give me so much permission to be myself… I know what I’m about to say is going to sound like a complete contradiction but bear with me… however, the deeper into community I get, the more this seems to be challenged.
I’m still figuring out who I am. Especially post Mike. A lot changed once he died. Especially the way I see the world, people & life. Certain things became more meaningful & I became a lot more intentional. I like deep conversations, I like encouraging people to be greater versions of who they already are, I like asking people how they are really doing… But in order to do that I first must be vulnerable. Even if my vulnerability is simply asking the question. No matter how great or small the vulnerability, it’s direct contrast is rejection.
The constant threat of rejection is exhausting but lately the consequences of vulnerability seems more intense. Like recently things have happened, or comments have been made to me that were not supposed to be negative but Satan has used it to cut deep into my heart. The thoughts going around in my head subsequently are:
“You drain people Akila”, “People want to laugh & deep stuff doesn’t refresh them”, “Akila people can only handle you in small doses”, “Akila people push you away because you are too intense”, “Akila you are too emotional”, “Akila you think you are trying to treat people the way you want to be treated but really you are just broken.”
I don’t want to be any of those things that are in my head. That wasn’t what was supposed to happen. I didn’t ask for Mike to die. I didn’t ask for me to change. I don’t want to drain people. I don’t want people to only be able to cope with me in small doses. My heart feel so raw, shaken & vulnerable thinking this could be.
Tonight, before church, I was trying to put on mascara without crying it off & I was talking to God about all this. I said to God, “I want to me just me. I want to be real & intentional. I want the deep conversations. I want to genuinely know how someone is doing. I really love & care for people. Even if people can only cope with me in small doses, I don’t want to change because this stuff matters to me, this is how I show people they matter to me.”
As I’m trying to figure all this out with Jesus a thought came to me, “Akila they’re not running from you, they’re running from vulnerability.”
Later after church I shared my fears with my life group leader & she gave a really beautiful illustration of a needle with thread. The needle point of vulnerability is so sharp that it can be painful for me & for others, but the thread that the needle brings is community.
Community is so much bigger than just a group of people hanging out. If God is the heart then community is what He uses to pump life into our souls. Life that fills our being with purpose. Life that He uses to demonstrate His love, His freedom, His truth. Community is life. Messy, beautiful, adventurous, living life. But it’s His life, & He gives it to us. He calls us to be our Brother’s Keepers.
This fear malarkey is hard core to address, but once upon a time when I was 14 years old God told me, “Akila I made you for people.” I want to be faithful to that calling. It’s my heart, it’s how I’m wired. What an incredible joy it is to be called my Brother’s Keeper. I’m not confused about this, but the fears bury this so that everything dumped on top causes confusion & disunity.
I don’t have a conclusion to this blog post as this is still a journey. But I do know that I don’t want these fears to kill me. I don’t want to change the root of who I am. I do want to grow. I do want to walk in freedom rather than fear. & whilst I’m trying to move away from acceptance in other people’s eyes, I really do hope I can be a good friend to people.
Once upon a time, a situation happened where I think I accidentally pooped on a policeman… I’ll get to that story in a second. This week has been a big week for me!
For starters I learnt how to ride a motorbike, alone?! Ok so my friend was chasing the bike up and down the road in case I started to tumble but still, I was alone on the bike! Secondly, I hosted my first ever dinner “party” here! For 2 years I’ve been putting it off, mainly due to the size of my flat. But I really really miss having people over so I just decided to make it happen. God was kind, the thunder and lightning was CRAY (down with the lingo) and it rained but not enough for us to move from outside to inside. However what made this a big week was – for the first time in South Africa I told someone my testimony.
It’s been interesting for me coming to South Africa. I came to a place where really no one knew me. Apart from one person who was my cabin mate on the ship. I have no history here. No one I went to school with, did life with… in so many ways it has been kind of freeing. Like a way to start over. No one remembers that one time I may or may not have pooped on a policeman. True story. It’s titled “The Flying Poo Story”. Keep reading, I will get to it.
But what has also been interesting is no one has asked to hear my story until very recently. Each one of us has a life story; stories of powerful journeys that shape us into who we are today. Our hopes, dreams, fears, memories, heartbreaks, failures, winning moments, funny stories, family… our heart and mind is formed from these. So I’ve been wondering a question, do people not ask me, or is asking, “tell me your story”, something we just don’t do?
If my guess is right, and we are just not very good at asking people to share their story, then why is that?
When I was invited to share my life story this week I was a little anxious. Anxious because it has potential to bring up thoughts or even past addictions; and anxious because it does definitely bring up fear. Fear of rejection, fear of judgement. I know in my head the issue lies with that person if they chose to reject or judge but in my heart it’s still painful. I find people sometimes don’t look at me the same way again. I’m so sensitive to loss and change; and that type of relationship shift is next level sucky.
On the flip side, do we actually really want to know people? Sometimes I chose to not ask people to share their stories because I fear being burdened with it. Like somehow I will open Pandora’s Box by asking them to share and I then will have to deal with any life issues they reveal about themselves. Sometimes my relationships existed only for the purpose of having a good time; and there was no reason to break the illusion by bringing authenticity in it. I think I was a little too broken to know how to do real friendship with my old party friends. We only knew how to party. Hard.
In other words, maybe we don’t ask people because we’re afraid of their reaction; the impact it might have on us; the fear of being burdened; or maybe we just don’t want that kind of friendship. Maybe we have relationships where we are actually actively saying, “I chose not to know you.”
I know right… #micdrop
I’ve always loved people but I think my attitude to relationships changed after I got sick when I was 19 years old. My body gave up a little and I found myself in hospital for 3 weeks, then a wheelchair for an additional month. It changed even more when I was 20 years old, once I went to the ship for a year. Then when Mike died… shoot, at 21 years old there was no going back for me after that.
I changed, and I’m not the same person anymore. I still struggle with that change. Especially after Mike. It messes a lot with one’s identity. Like for so long I was confused whether I really was an extrovert or if I was actually an introvert. Thankfully I’m still 100% an extrovert?! But I’m deeper, way more sensitive, far more intentional, and the story matters to me. Your story, their story, my story, His story.
Asking someone to share their story is major. Yes, you need wisdom and discernment in doing so. But where possible I really want to encourage you to look for those opportunities to ask someone to tell you their story! It has so so so much potential:to bring healing to the person; to bring fresh revelations of who God is for you and for them; to bring reestablishment of their identity and value; and to basically bring truth, hope, and freedom to their lives.
Unless you really want to choose not know someone, if asking a person to share their story has so much power, why wouldn’t we want to embrace these beautiful opportunities to say to each other, “I see you”.
P.s. Yea, so sorry. I’m totally not ready to blog about the poop story yet haha 😉