a l i v e & a w a k e

Maybe it was when Steve Fallis punched me in the face in grade 5. Maybe it was that I was one of the biggest losers in public school for that year and the next 2 years into elementary school. Some where in there I got my first weight set to make sure that kind of crap would not happen anymore. My family life was rough due to circumstantial life events, that we (as a family) all together couldn’t gain a clear focus as to how life should be. So in the midst of feeling like I was insignificant at school, I received a beating every once in awhile from the ‘cool’ crowd just to make sure I didn’t forget it.

I remember getting my first weight set thinking this will all end because I will be physically tough and unbreakable. Something deeper inside me was forming as well. Angry, protective sinews were forming around my heart to make sure that no one could punch me there as well. In the next few years I was pretty successful because when I entered high school I could bench press almost the same as the strongest guy in the whole school and no one could beat me in arm wrestling.  Success! (or so I thought). No one ever picked on me or nor did I ever have to fight another day in my life (so far).

That kind of success also brought a new outlook on life for me. I became self protective and arrogant. That brought on a bully syndrome that I felt helped me keep certain social status (sorry to all I did this to). I found myself taking great pleasure in whipping peoples pants down in the hallway, punching people in the arm or giving ‘purple nurples’ just for the heck of it. I found myself saying cruel things to people in crowds (it was always in crowds) just to see if I could make them cry (which I counted as more successful and something to laugh about). I called people who were over weight, fat. I would constantly find ways to make people who were nerdy, ‘losers’, racially different and outcasts feel stupid. I was maybe feeling like I could toughen them up or I could speak to little Joey in grade 5 who was very much like they were. I was afraid. But I wasn’t going to cry anymore, feel that hurt anymore and never be broken by anyone.

In my pursuit of a hard body and hard heart I realize I delayed another important component of my development- compassion. I look back and see all the things I cared about like sports, anger, girls, looking cool and strong. I remember other people in the school who cared compassionately about real life issues like; our planet, the hungry, poverty, spiritual searching, and feeling with those who hurt.  It was a new language to me that I just fluffed off as ‘tree huggers’, weak, and issues that weren’t important. My selfish pursuit to be ‘respected’ was making a divide and chasm in my own heart that over a long period of time would be spiritually fatal.  A significant event with Christ changed that pursuit but I was still left with 10 years of residue that were patterns of life and worse a reputation.  

It is in this last couple of years that I have been able to see the movement God has me on to becoming more whole and mature as a Christ follower. Half of the battle was changing my pattern of life. I change my pattern to work with youth at-risk (which included outcast, hurting, ‘losers’ like me) for 11 years. The other half was going back to talk to young ‘Joey’ in grade 5 and telling him it is ok to be hurt and caring and soft in his heart. I had to go though periods of evoking old memories which had very physical manifestations 15 years after the event. As this has been comforted and addressed I have felt a new freedom to grow as a compassionate person now. Jesus has brought His healing through great ministry situations, mentors and my family.

So as of late (summer 2006), I feel a new door has been opened. It could be I have been recuperating from the 11 years of working with difficult youth at-risk issues or it could be I have just become a father (which many attribute to a more open heart). Regardless of the circumstances in my life, I see,, no, I feel very out of control in the compassion I have for others (I believe in a healthy way).  I feel like crying a lot lately.

For instance I have been meeting with a Sikh man who is very spiritual and new to Canada (4 months). I feel very soft and open to Him as we talk, and as I meet with him in his house and meet with his family. If this same man came to me when I was a teenager, I would have laughed at him for his lack of English, said he was stealing good Canadian jobs, made comments about his skin colour and found many ways to verbally devalue his being. Someone from the Indian community may have been where I was most racist as a teen. That is not me today. I feel broken, in fact I feel I need this relationship to grow my little ‘Joey’ up.

A verse that I see as being most relevant to me is in Philippians where Paul say “I want you not just to love much, but well” Phil 1

I always had taken this to mean just love well which was a very cognitive thing. You can have all the gushie feelings you want but they aren’t useful and the best way is to have a plan and agenda to love someone. A word I now see is ‘just’ in the verse. It infers that much loving is already happening and is good. That is the deep motivation to love well. ‘Much’ is happening to me. Little Joey is quite happy these days! Thanks God.

-joe