Showing posts with label awkward. Show all posts
Showing posts with label awkward. Show all posts

Friday, May 29, 2015

How Are You? Really?

“How are you?” My guess is you really do not want the truth; so I respond with a polite “fine” and we both avoid the awkwardness of your question. How do you really think I am? I watched my husband slide down a granite slope and over the edge of a cliff and fall approximately 100 feet until a tree stopped him from descending any further. Then, with the help of two of my children and a random hiker or two, I pinned my husband to a steep slope for nearly an hour while he wrestled against us. We were trying to prevent him from plummeting 60 more feet and possibly taking one of us with him. And all the while, blood gushed from the back of his head no matter what we did to try to stop it. I am not fine. I may never be “fine” again. However, to save us both the pain of recounting my horrible plight to you, I will give you the pat answer and move on wishing people would quit asking me, “How are you?”

I know you are uncomfortable and do not know what to say. I realize it is unpleasant and puts you ill at ease; but if you do not want to know how I really feel, please do not ask. Just say, “I do not know what to say, but I’m praying for you;” or “thinking about you;” or simply, “I’m sorry.” I am feeling exactly as I should be—devastated, lost, frightened, confused. God is slowly helping me process every one of those emotions. But it is going to take a long time. Bear with me. I may not give you the response you want; I may even burst into tears. I am sorry if I am unpleasant to be around or say something that is politically incorrect. You will have to give me grace. I give it to you every time you ask, “How are you?”

Please know, though, that even as I walk through the gloom, I am filled with God’s peace. Eventually I will be okay. But do not expect too much too soon. Give me time. Give me space. And if you do not know what to say, do not say anything at all. I will laugh again. I will find my way back into the light—all in good time. Until then if it makes you feel uneasy to be around immense grief, then avoid me at all costs. I do not mind. It will make it easier for both of us because “how are you?” is just not what I want to hear right now.