The Turtle and the Porcupine

     As I said in a previous post, I've been reading Chuck Swindoll's book, Strengthening You Grip.  I recommend it highly. Whatever I read, if it's good, I feel compelled to share. So here goes...
     He started chapter 2 with this bomb..."I know of no more potent killer than isolation.  There is no more destructive influence on physical and mental health then the isolation of you from me and us from them.  It has been shown to be a central agent in the etiology of depression, paranoia, schizophrenia, rape, suicide, mass murder, and a wide variety of disease states."
     This startling quote is from Professor Philip Zimbardo, of Stanford University who is a respected authority on psychology. If true, and I've seen no reason to disbelieve it, this is indeed frightening because we have become a culture of "Lone Rangers". (But even he had Tonto!)  We sit in our own little isolated worlds, with headsets, listening to whatever we want to hear, blocking out the sounds around us.  We spend hours on our electronic devises entertaining or educating our minds and hearts with only God knows what. We no longer know the neighbor across the street, much less down the block. Chuck Swindoll said, "Our watchword is "privacy"; our comments are short-term. Our world is fast adopting the unwritten regulation so often observed in elevators, "Absolutely no eye contact, talking, smiling, or relating without written permission from the management." How tragically true! We are an aimless, lonely generation who's roots have been pulled, displaced and scattered to the wind.  Our children don't know their extended families and Chuck goes on to say that "anonymity, cynicism and indifference are fast replacing mutual support and genuine interest." He then adds, "This becomes a major factor in our ability to cope with life on this planet, an otherwise lonely and discouraging pilgrimage."
     The first thing we have to ask ourselves is why is this... Why do we shun involvement? Well as I contemplated my own condition, I realized that there are several reasons for it.  First of all I have to confess that as I made a "gun" with my hand and my pointy finger pointed at you, I saw three others pointing back at me.  I am perhaps "the chief of sinners" in this realm.  Ted used to say to me, "When I die I want you to join and "Old Lady Gang" so you don't become a hermit!" He knew me. My idea of a good week is one when I don't have to get out of my pajamas. Now having confessed that and after some self-examination, I have had to answer the question for myself. "Why do I shun involvement?"  I have to admit that the first answer has to be laziness.  It's just too much trouble.  I'd rather stay home and avoid the crowds.  Now I know not all of you will agree with this.  Some people actually enjoy the crowds.  I don't understand it but I know it to be true. Another reason is fear of being vulnerable.  This is always a risk. Chuck said, "The one who gets involved doesn't play the role of prim-and-proper, Mr. Clean. No he is human, vulnerable,...capable of being wounded, open to attack, misunderstanding, or damage. He is unguarded."  That was my husband, Ted. He wasn't a perfect man. As a matter of fact, no one would have ever called him "Pastor Perfect".  And as long as we're allerating, sometimes he could be a "pain in the old patoot!"  But he made himself vulnerable for the sake of others.  He was at every birth in the church... he was there when their loved ones suffered and died... he officiated at all the weddings, and  baptisms and attended all the graduations and special events of his flock.  He used to ask me, "Why am I always in trouble?' I didn't know how to answer him then, but now I know...he made himself vulnerable and got involved. I was the "turtle". When things got too rough I just tucked my head back into my shell.  Ted never did that.  He engaged the battle whatever it was and sometimes came home bruised and bloodied and yes he was very often, "in trouble".
     Chuck went on to say that he has heard the church described as a "pack of porcupines on a frigid wintry night". The cold drives us closer together into a tight huddle to keep warm. As we begin to snuggle really close, our sharp quills cause us to jab and prick each other...a condition which forces us apart. But before long we start to get cold again, so we move back together, only to stab and puncture each other all over again...we cannot deny it, we need each other, yet we needle each other."
     "Still God's desire for His children is that we be personally and deeply involved in each other's lives," Chuck goes on to say.  "He wants more involvement between us than our superficial greetings on Sunday, "How are you doing?" and "Have a nice day!" as we walk away, because "beneath that secure-looking, self-reliant veneer most of us wear...deep down inside, there's a scared little kid who is waiting for someone to care, to hold his hand, to affirm and love with authentic affection."
     As I read this chapter I prayed that I would come out of my turtle shell and join in the "porcupine dance".  After all we have to run out of quills sooner or later. I hope this encourages you to pray the same.

(c)copyrightlauragehrke 2014