So think twice, parents, before you shrug off your child's suffering as something he or she will just have to go through and outgrow. Did you ever,
really
outgrow it?
A close friend of mine who never cared to go to men's retreats finally gave in and attended one not too long ago. He came back deeply affected by what he saw and heard.
All the men, about a hundred in number, were given an assignment for the weekend: to write a poem about something that affected them deeply and emotionally. Through this exercise, each man was able to share his vulnerable side with sympathetic peers. The poems spoke of precious things as well as painful: the birth of the first child and the death of a child, the finding of true love and the loss of a spouse, a special praise from a parent and a crushing disappointment in a parent.
With a hundred men contributing, the group saw a kaleidoscope of life, and they realized how life can, at times, be so kind and so cruel.
During the last evening of the weekend retreat, a successful businessman in his forties stood to address the group. As he began to read his poem, he broke down weeping. He'd never talked to anyone about it before, but for him, one of the most painful experiences of his life was being overweight as a kid and being mocked and ridiculed about it in school. The teasing was merciless and it never let up, year after year. It framed his entire concept of himself, a concept he carried well into adulthood, and it was only now, when he felt safe among the other guys, that he could face it.
He sat down, and a brief, awkward silence enveloped the room, as if the men were wondering,
What can we do
for this guy? What can we say? After all, it all happened so
long ago.
The next man stepped to the front to share his poem, but he was weeping before he could even unfold the poem to read it. He looked at the forty-year-old businessman and confessed, “Brother, when I was a kid, I was one of those who picked on kids like you. I thought it was fun. I guess it made me feel cool, like I was somebody. But I want to tell you, it was wrong, and until right now I've never faced up to it. Brother, I need to ask your forgiveness. I'm sorry. Please forgive me.”
He embraced the businessman, and the room fell silent once again. Some other men started crying. In a coincidence so remarkable that it had to be a “divine appointment,” two kids from different backgrounds and different schoolyards, the wounder and the wounded, had found each other and were making things right. The room was shaken.
See? We remember.
So parents and teachers, please talk about it. Bring up the subject yourself if your kids don't. Let your children know that they don't have to put up with bullying and abusive treatment and that there are steps they can take to prevent it. My parents didn't know the full extent of what I was suffering because I never said anything. I never said anything because it would be snitching, and, for all I knew, nothing could be done about it anyway. I never heard any teacher, counselor, or principal at my schools say that teasing and abuse were wrong. Not one teacher ever stepped in to prevent it. I even heard one teacher ask a friend of mine, “What's the matterâthose guys picking on you?” The teacher then laughed about it, walked away, and did nothing. But he sent his message: “You're on your own, bub. You won't get any help from me.”
In the aftermath of Littleton, we heard so much talk and fretting about “looking for the signs” that might lead kids to resort to violence. How can we know? What should we look for?
To this I say,
Wake up to wounded spirits!
A bruise or a cut is visible, but a wounded spirit can remain buried deep inside a person unless you provide the environment that will bring it out and heal it. The letter I wrote to Mr. Sampson was my final act of desperation. Thankfully, the pen was mightier than the gun, but I've often wondered what might have happened, had not that one special teacher paused to ask me how I was doing. Believe me, there are kids in your school, and maybe right in your home, who have a story to tell.
And yes, you as an adult may also have a story to tell, and it may not be a tale about the bullies of your youth. It may involve the bullies you have to put up with in the adult world. As research has found, bullies in school often go on to be bullies at home and at work (see the resource list in the back of this book for research supporting this fact). Have you ever had a bossâeven a
Christian
bossâ who doesn't mind belittling his or her employees in front of coworkers, spouting obscenities at them, and demanding unreasonable sacrifices? How about that DMV license examiner who thinks his uniform authorizes him to be rude and to make you feel like a criminal just because you're there to comply with the law? Ever met a minister who thinks God has appointed him to cuttingly critique the lifestyles of the members of the congregation, right down to the choice of socks, slacks, shirt, or tie someone wears? Do you derive a certain wicked pleasure from humiliating your spouse by telling your friends, in your spouse's presence, about the embarrassing mistakes he or she has made?
This list could be endless. It would have been nice if we'd all learned at an early age that there are better ways to resolve our inner problems and that there is a better path for human beings to follow. Well, it's never too late to start doing what is right.
It's never too late to change things.
A FRESHER START
I
t's been quite a journey, a stretch of fifty years, from helping Mom raise up the car on that deadly winter night, all the way to the writing of this chapter. Now that I can look back from this vantage point, the hard knocks of my childhood are starting to fit into a much broader context. They haven't shrunk in significance, but they have found their place as one of many seasons in my life. The bad things really happened, but they aren't the
only
things that happened. They aren't even the
main
things that happened. God's plan for each of our lives covers a lot more ground, a lot more time than just that one, difficult season. The journey continues. His grace and mercies are new every morning and sufficient for each day.
But we have to wonder, Just what was that “one, difficult season” all about? What was the point? Well, speaking as a typical, nearsighted mortal, I can offer a few guesses.
Because I went through it, I can encourage and minister to others who have been there or who are there right now; and, as I've discovered, there are plenty of people who have abusive experiences that continue to dog them. God will use what you and I have gone through to help others find healing and deliverance from the wounds that still bring pain to their souls. Indeed, it may well be our wounds that provide the common ground on which other people can relate to us and we to them. As Brennan Manning writes in
Abba's Child,
“Grace and healing are communicated through the vulnerability of men and women who have been fractured and heartbroken by life.”
1
Quoting Thornton Wilder's one-act play
The Angel
That Troubled the Water,
based on John 5:1â4, Manning reminds us that in a strange sense, our woundedness qualifies us to point others to the Healer. “In Love's service, only wounded soldiers can serve.”
2
Since first giving my talk on the subject of wounded spirits, and as I've worked on this book, I've found it comforting to think that after thirty or forty years, the Lord and I can finally make some good use of all that trouble I went through. God does not waste an ounce of our pain or a drop of our tears; suffering doesn't come our way for no reason, and He seems especially efficient at using what we endure to mold our character. If we are malleable, He takes our bumps and bruises and shapes them into something beautiful. Maybe, because of what you and I have experienced, we can inspire a few changes in the way people think about and treat each other in this world.
I can see how God has worked through my wounds. Being a man of flesh, I could have turned out more careless and cruel in my conversation if I hadn't suffered some pain myself. Having been hurt by words, I have a better appreciation for what words can do. Wanting to be like Jesus, I try to watch my mouth; rather than lacing my conversation with sarcasmâan arrow with the tip only slightly dulledâI attempt to speak words of encouragement, and I try to uplift people I meet.
Similarly, having suffered at the hands of bullies, I've wanted very much not to be one. It's important to remember that many bullies who abuse others have been abused themselves. As Suellen and Paula Fried point out in
Bullies and Victims,
“They were not born bullies; they became bullies through their life experience.”
3
Some were physically or verbally abused as children; many witnessed violence in the lives of their parents or other family members; most bullies have parents who have been or are too busy to give them the attention they need. Or perhaps they have been ignored by parents who are unaware of what is really going on in their children's lives. Sometimes even well-meaning parents are hard-pressed to spend the needed amount of quality time with their child, leaving the child with a sense of being unloved.
Often bullies have received inconsistent messages regarding discipline and boundaries. Bullies see threats where none exist; they see their anger as justified.
4
Because of these and other serious problems, bullies often end up as losers in life.
We don't rejoice in their hardship, nor do we condone their response to it, but if we develop an awareness that most bullies themselves are suffering wounded spirits, we will understand more about their inner pain, and we will have more compassion for the abusive person. We will recognize that often, just below the harsh exterior, there is a wounded child crying out to be noticed, and yes, to be loved.
So, I can see a lesson in the unhappy life of a bully:There is definitely a better life to be had by living life correctly, God's way, and there is a certain enabling grace God provides to help us do so. Consequently, I've sought God's wisdom and tried not to let this lesson pass me by.
On a practical level, having experienced how sour this world can be, I've tried to spread around as much sugar as I can. If I encounter a waitress having a bad day, I try to be as nice to her as I can be, and I usually leave a generous tip. It's a tangible way of saying, “You're doing a good job, and I appreciate you.” Have you ever worked at a fast-food restaurant? If so, you probably have a greater appreciation for that young man or woman behind the counter who is trying to juggle several orders while customers wait impatiently. No doubt some irate customer has already yelled at my waitress for spilling something or counting the change wrong. I'd like to be the
nice
customer she has that day, the customer who gives
her
a break.
I try to use humor and display goodwill toward everyone with whom I do business, from bank clerks to telephone operators to FedEx delivery truck drivers. People appreciate kindness, and although virtue is its own reward, the Bible does promise that I will reap what I sow. Pass some sugar around, and Jesus will throw some sugar back to you, even more than you gave in the first place. It is, after all, the Lord Jesus whom we represent. As Saint Francis of Assisi put it, “Preach Christ . . . and if you must, use words.”
Comforting others puts our pain into perspective. Having encountered others who have suffered multiple rapes, domestic violence, permanent disfigurement from disease or birth defect, molestation, and violent crime, I can tell myself, “Okay. You had some tough times, but be thankful. Compared to many people in this world, you had it easy.”
I'm convinced that cruelty in and of itself is not fruitful, and to the fullest extent of my power, I won't allow it. Yes, God can make it all work together for good, but that's His miraculous way of redeeming a rotten situation, not His will for our behavior. I'm not impressed by the old argument that cruelty toughens us up for life. That's tantamount to saying it's right. Life is cruel enough by itself, thank you, with endless opportunities to suffer. Given that, one kind word or one encouraging touch teaches more lessons than one hundred cruelties.
We all have our “difficult seasons.” Some of us are in the middle of one right now. We don't like them, of course, but they do have a way of finding their place in the overall scheme of our lives, welcome or not. There will be pain, and years afterward, there will still be questions. The sweet part of this is, as long as the Lord God is guiding your life, more years and more wisdom will bring a better perspective of what those tough times were all about. So trust God. He'll make things clear eventually.
I do see better days ahead. I intended this book to be a wake-up call, the cry of a lonely prophet, so to speak, but happily, I'm not the first one to raise this issue. As you'll see from the reading list in the back of this book, there are folks out there concerned with the problem of bullying and abuse, who want to advise and assist us in doing something about it. Check it out if you want to examine things further, and don't forget the Internet: Search the word
bully, bullies,
or
bullying
, and you'll be surprised how much material is available. You'll also be pleased, as I was, to find that much of the material is by or for those in education, meaning that our teachers and school administrators have plenty of practical resources from which to draw and no excuses for ignoring this matter ever again.
Maybe we're entering a new era in which bullying and the intimidation of other people are at last consigned to their rightful place alongside racism, hatemongering, drunk driving, littering, spitting in public, and passing gas at parties.
People are slowly waking up to the prolonged impact of the problemâthat bullies in school often grow up to be bullies in the home, abusing their spouses and children and perpetuating the downward spiral. Bullies in the home leave the house and go to work, where they continue to abuse employees and coworkers. The cycle can only be stopped by a change of the heart, and that is precisely the place where God's power is more than sufficient to give people a fresh start. With other options exhausted, many people are finally beginning to give the spiritual solution some serious thought. Let's encourage more of that, and while we're at it, let's search our own hearts and instruct our children regarding what it means to be noble, to protect and help the weak, to love our neighborsâeven the smaller, clumsy onesâas ourselves.