The Tough Conversation

This is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you...

I remember what my mom used to tell me before she'd punish me for being a stupid kid. And trust me, I was a stupid kid quite often, way more often than I got punished for it. It always struck me as odd, this idea that hitting me would hurt her more than it hurt me. I mean, I knew what I did, I was just too much of a little jerk to stop. Still, when I was done crying, there was my mom, fresh tears falling from her face as she explained to me what I had done wrong. It was almost as if she were convincing herself as well.

Now that I'm older, with a heart that probably loves more than it should, I think I know a little bit of what she was going through. While I don't have children and I don't go hitting stupid people, I do have to have conversations that I know will hurt, and I hate those conversations. We all need to have the tough conversation from time to time, the conversation confronting someone with something you know will blindside them, something you know they don't want to hear. It is a part of living in community, perhaps one of the hardest parts for all involved.

It is hard to be the one confronted, to be told you have hurt someone or done something wrong. Sometimes you want to lash out and defend yourself, if only to assure others that you did not mean harm by your words, or actions, or to show how your actions were justified and right. Other times you just want to hide, to take back the last day or month or year, wishing your ignorance or insensitivity hadn't left you blind to something so obvious.

To be the one doing the confronting, I have learned, is for me even more difficult than being confronted. It starts with that sense of dread, as you realize what you need to say, and that it will either cut to the core or be completely ineffective. Then, as you take the person aside (it's even harder if it's your friend), and begin the conversation, you read their face... and you want to turn back, to soften the blow, to tell them it will be alright...

I've had to have a few of those conversations recently, and I find myself more on the confronting end than the confronted. I love people. I love my friends. I start these conversations, and I see them getting defensive as my words land like punches. I see them bristle, and in their eyes I can tell I've hurt them. I question myself... is this really for the best? Am I wrong for saying this?

Then I keep on going, because in the end you have no choice. If you really love someone, you have to be willing to confront them with the reality they refuse to see on their own.

As I saw my friend begin to tear up as his lip quivered and his voice wavered, this last conversation I had tore me up inside. I knew that he had been blindsided, that he meant well and was only trying to... well, it doesn't matter what he was trying to do. The point is, I knew this was something he had to learn, and that this conversation needed to happen, but it really sucked. As I led him to a place where he could clean himself up a bit and blow his nose, he thanked me for talking to him, and that made it even harder. As I walked away, hearing his stifled sobs...

I wonder how God feels, when we constantly don't get what He's been trying to tell us our whole lives. I wonder how much it hurts Him when we pass up something that could have been beautiful, purposeful... life changing. I wonder if it hurts Him more than it hurts us when we lose that financial or relational security we once had, and we fumble about like children in sudden darkness, scared of the unknown and longing for something to cling to. I mean, He knows how it will work for our benefit, and how it will bring us back to Him, but does it hurt His heart the way a loving parent is crushed by the cry of the punished child?

I think that is what is beautiful about a God who is willing to live in relationship with us. He knows our pains inside and out. He is the Sovereign over all creation, Creator of the Universe... and yet, this pain that you are going through right now...

It hurts Him more than it hurts you.