Fragrant Grace

Defenseless: Relationship Outside the Comfort Zone

The Comfort Zone
Returning to my blog feels good. Fragrant Grace is like sliding my feet into the shoes I’ve worn to holes and slick soles. The mental miles I’ve walked here are sweet. It’s also like my favorite pair of faded, too-casual, but still perfect blue jeans. Always my first choice, I’m a little hesitant to pull them right out of the stack of clean laundry—again. Maybe I’m second-guessing. Maybe I’m more selective.

Writing is my happy place, I suppose. Fragrant Grace is my carved-out space to be who I was created to be. Emily Freeman would call it “the art I make” (A Million Little Ways). I’m coming around to that idea. But, one day I think of writing like a playground. Another day, it feels like a battleground. On fewer occasions, I’m humbled with my face to the ground. Words can be fun or hard-won. Sometimes to they’re just too holy. (Those are God’s, not mine.)

Today I would prefer to play, but I think something important is planned for this space. I can’t peg an emotion for it, and I think there’s good reason: this stirs something in the deeper places in my heart. Maybe you’ll relate. There’s nothing wrong with the comfort zone, but I don’t get to stay there today.

NASA continues to work on technology to increase data rates and speed space communications.

Can We Talk?
Today you’re surfing the largest Blogosphere to date. Statistics back it, but I’m skipping them. Blog hosting sites display a running list of new additions to their ever-increasing options. In any day, thousands of new blogs are registered. Some even have their first posts in a matter of minutes. Tomorrow you’ll be surfing the largest Blogosphere to date.

New writers, bright-eyed and full of ideas, cannonball launch and splash into their river of thoughts, hoping to connect to others. Connections are made, and community begins to take shape. People from other countries and continents breeze by, some revisit, a few connect soul-to-soul. Virtual relationships happen. And I love that, don’t you? I have sweet friendships with beautiful souls I’ve never met. Some I hope to put in the category of “Some day…just not yet.” Our world gets smaller every day.

The Challenge
We share this planet with billions of other humans (7.164 billion, by the United States Census Bureau). That community is a given; we are part of the human race. We are also part of various groups within the larger whole. Groups form around the foundational building blocks in society: families, interests, education, location, cultural norms, spiritual understanding or conviction, sometimes physical traits, often deeply emotional connections. The connections can be strikingly beautiful and effective.

Sadly, the very things that unite us polarize, too. We’ll head to the polling paces in the U.S. soon, and the conversations surrounding the candidates will be anywhere from non-existent to über-intense. This is just one area in which disagreement can be uncomfortable. Our comfort zone can be directly connected to the similarities in thoughts, communication style, or appearances. When those things are challenged, the disconnections can be sad and dysfunctional.

When people or their preferences look unfamiliar, my comfort zone is challenged!

If we select relationships based solely on where they land in some crazy Venn diagram that describes our comfort zone, we’ve got a problem. I can’t be the only one that sees that one coming, can I? Over 7 billion people can’t possibly agree on everything. Ultimately, the deeply held non-negotiables in our lives can get dicey quick! If you want evidence of that, look at the most war-torn or racially-charged places in the world. That’s where specific non-negotiables fuel hatred. Add weapons, and people die.

Disagreement is likely in our world. Unity is a challenge when people don’t look like us or have the same preferences. Kindness has to be an intentional choice at that point.

Vulnerability is Risky
We make choices in relationships. The root of relationship is something we all have to admit or address in some way: vulnerability. Deep, solid connections only result in the safety of authentic expression of the true self. And that’s a loaded statement. It’s ironic or counter-intuitive or something, at least.

Living authentically in the presence of others revealing our true nature feels anything but safe. The natural instinct is to cover and hide, so no one sees our flaws (physical, cognitive, emotional, or character). It can feel threatening to be who we were created to be sometimes. That’s just too bad! We were wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14), in spite of what we perceive to be our defects. (This is not an excuse to avoid clear, direct character flaw acknowledgement and adjustment. In fact, we only address these issues when we step out of denial into the honest truth.) Hiding behind a facade means others fall in love with a lie, doesn’t it?

Being our authentic self in front of others is vulnerable.

Imagine people knowing and loving your genuine self, “warts and all.” Your real self may need love, support, or pretty intense intervention—that can only happen when the needs are authentically revealed in front of others with a degree of wisdom. That’s vulnerability! The things we desperately need can only be granted in authentic relationship.

I have to ask myself: What do I really, really want? Am I willing to risk vulnerability in order to have genuine, deep, life-changing relationships? Am I willing to accept that no one, including myself, is perfect and accept others and myself on those terms?

Defenses are Damaging and Divisive 
The most important part of real relationship is dropping the defenses. Oh boy! If that doesn’t make us a little uncomfortable, I don’t know what will. Walking into relationship “as we are” is challenging, but tearing down the defenses adds a whole other dimension.

We defend our positions both aggressively and passively. Have you ever thought about that? I realized over time that I was deeply entrenched in my own understanding of many things in my world. I have my own construct through which I process the way things work and the way people behave. My observation and interpretation of information passes through my understanding. That’s expected and appropriate. When my construct fills with non-negotiable perspectives, there will be problems. I become too well-defended to be in relationship with others. Period. Relationships have to split apart or never start.

Dropping the defenses is the only way to go! What might that look like?

  • An opposing viewpoint becomes a catalyst for seeking to understand both positions, or many positions.
  • The mind focuses more on listening than planning response, for a time.
  • Patient, sound, reasonable dialogue replaces unkind, mudslinging debate.
  • Passive-aggressive silence gives way to inviting relationship.
  • Arguments look wholly different.

I love that Scripture repeatedly suggests “reasoning together” (Isaiah 1:18), “gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15), and beliefs rooted outside human preferences, in general.

In passing, I’ll mention I believe a clear place remains for defending or contending for the faith. How that looks may be quite different than I originally thought. I’m growing in this area, growing into something new and more mature, I think. When I manage to keep my walls and defenses down, I have the opportunity to understand, think clearly, reason well, and do life better with others.

Understanding Relieves Tension
The same defending walls that keep people at a distance keep us locked away from others. When distance and defended positions become obvious in relationships, most of us have a natural response. We escalate the emotional temperature with our own defense systems. The better choice is to do the counter-intuitive thing: seek to understand. I have two favorite parts to the seeking to understand process: learning and being heard.

When I take time to actively listen, I’m guaranteed to learn something new about the world and the person I’m listening to. If I genuinely focus on listening to learn, versus listening to respond, I’m more open to slow, careful communication. I can keep the defense mechanisms to a minimum, and my stress levels remain low. Since tension often appears to be emotionally “caught” like a disease, I can potentially influence the feel of the conversation, and ultimately the relationship, to a degree.

I tend to think the speaker in any conversation enjoys being heard because I enjoy it so much. It’s a common experience to be ignored, and that doesn’t feel good. It just doesn’t. Being heard—really being heard—means we are assigned value as a person in relationship to others. Knowing we have incredible value assigned to us by our Creator should be the motivation for assigning value to others, shouldn’t it? And when we don’t receive that same courtesy, we have to practice grace or boundaries, or both. We aren’t in control of others’ choices in relationship, only ours, but we can make decisions that enhance relational connection (or minimize the damage done when necessary). Keeping in mind that our culture may be the most relationally klutzy to inhabit the planet, we should do whatever we can to live in peace (Romans 12:18).

What does it look like to really listen? Try some of these things:

  • Consider your available time; decide if the topic will have enough attention.
  • Turn off your own mental running commentary.
  • Be fully present with the person in front of you.
  • Put others in a priority position temporarily while you seek to understand.
  • Listen closely; be able to reliably speak what you hear.
  • Check for meaning by asking if you can repeat back what you’ve heard occasionally.
  • Wait on judgment just a little longer than you usually do (minutes, hours, days, or…).
  • Be open to the potential for learning and growth.
  • Be open to the possibility that your understanding is incomplete…or incorrect.
  • Be humble!

 Agreeing, Disagreeing, and Agreeing to Disagree
Seeking to understand others and be in transformational relationships does not mean we are wishy-washy or someone’s well-worn door mat. Seeking to understand can inform us, even transform us. That doesn’t mean we change our beliefs to blend in with an ever-changing audience or reject others’ thoughts altogether. The temptation to pacify or dominate, avoid or create conflict, or enable others’ unhealthy behaviors (or perpetuate our own) doesn’t reflect mature relationship at all. Abusive cycles aren’t okay. We have to maintain our own personal integrity; check the overall message, integrity, and motives; and display love and grace. Somewhere in the middle of that, we might agree or disagree, but we always agree to disagree respectfully.

Respect is reflected in our word choices, volume and tone, facial expressions, and body language. Communication has two parts: what is said and what isn’t. What we say matters. What we convey non-verbally or through silence often speaks louder than the words we choose. Nevertheless, we don’t have an excuse to be rude. Ever. We don’t have a reason to treat others in a degrading fashion. Ever. No matter what someone communicates to us, we aim to choose the better way.

Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. Colossians 4:6

 These are thoughts I’m pondering these days in an effort to grow in deep, transformational relationships with others.  I have lots of room for growth, and I recognize that. I wonder if anyone else is turning some of these things over, too…

Share some of your thoughts. I’d love to hear them!


Photo Credits:
NASA Satellite: NASA image. Article at

Venn Diagram: a Fragrant Grace “creation” at
Embarrassed smiley:
Defending walls: Image at Edited at

All Good Things…

Geoffrey Chaucer penned the phrase, “all good things must come to an end” in his poem, Troilus and Criseyde. Is it true? Say it isn’t so!

Juliet pined, “Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow that I’ll say good night till it be morrow” in Shakespeare’s play. If only some moments were supernaturally longer, their sweetness enduring, putting off the inevitable. Can we just linger in certain days—just a little more, please?

Life ebbs, flows, and sometimes cycles. There is incredible beauty in the change of seasons. I love and am thankful for our four seasons in the Midwest. (Well, three of the four, really.) Truthfully, I’m really okay with expected change. The constancy of that kind of change is rather soothing. The sunrises I rarely see are balanced by gorgeous sunsets. Wet spring dries up and gives way to scorching summer, which relaxes and cools to flashy autumn. Winter just is. Dormant. Isolating. Requiring insulating. You get the picture. The only constant would be change.

There is other change. The unexpected and unpredictable. Have you been there and done that?

I’ve always known I couldn’t control some changes. Take the weather, for example. I might casually wonder if Disney® had a marionette named “Polar Vortex,” but I’m sure only One controls the sun and seasons, and “he who appoints the sun to shine by day, who decrees the moon and stars to shine by night, who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar—the LORD Almighty is his name” (Jeremiah 31:35).

What is most encouraging to you in the middle of unexpected change?

Today I’m living in some of these:

I know the plans I have in mind for you, declares the LORD; they are plans for peace, not disaster, to give you a future filled with hope. Jeremiah 29:11 CEB

May He grant you your heart’s desire, And fulfill all your counsel. Psalm 20:4 HNV

Therefore, once you have your minds ready for action and you are thinking clearly, place your hope completely on the grace that will be brought to you when Jesus Christ is revealed. 1 Peter 1:13 CEB

3 Don’t let loyalty and faithfulness leave you. Bind them on your neck; write them on the tablet of your heart. 4 Then you will find favor and approval in the eyes of God and humanity. 5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart; don’t rely on your own intelligence. 6 Know him in all your paths, and he will keep your ways straight. Proverbs 3 

This is where I am today. Humbled. Quiet. And quieted by his love.


Truth or Dare?

Sitting in a circle. Ripples of giggles and gasps.

“Truth or Dare?”

The words are thick and drip with foolish challenge, don’t they?

Tell the truth about something I have no control over? I’m at the mercy of a friend’s whim. Curiosity and immaturity can mix up a batch of awkward for everyone.

Or—take the dare? The potential is unpredictable and boundless. The same immaturity intersects with creativity. Dares always have the possibility for embarrassment, too.

If you played this game, how did you choose? I always weighed the choice as I looked into the eyes of the challenger. When I read a person’s intent, I started with the eyes and came back to them to confirm what I saw in the whole face. I hoped to gauge the curiosity-immaturity-creativity factors (read: wickedness potential!). Eyes tell a lot, don’t they? A Yiddish Proverb says “The eyes are the mirror of the soul.” I might agree.

Real Life Truth or Dare
So, we all know this is a dare either way, right? We will dare to tell the raw truth to the group or accept the challenge of an active dare. We could be embarrassed or feel intense emotions either way.

Pardon me while I frame this in a way that is significant to me.

I go about my daily life, whether I realize it or not, sitting in various circles. The setting for the group varies: my home, car, a professional office, the church, a coffee shop. The faces in the group change all the time, too. Family, close friends, people I barely know, or complete strangers. The time, place, and audience matters a good deal.

Life plays out between the characters in my circle on a miniature stage. Then, a noticeable thing happens. It’s not life-or-death critical—or maybe it is. I do something. Something may be done to me. Or I observe an exchange between others. And so it begins. Now what?

If I pause long enough, I hear the voice in my head say, “Truth or Dare?”

Decisions, Decisions…
The first step in response to the significant event is a choice. Dare to tell the truth or dare to act foolishly. And what would that really mean, anyway?

Telling the truth in a given situation could mean different things. The questions that beg to be asked are something like these:

Can I effectively discern truth? This is the time to evaluate all the emotional pushes and pulls. It’s possible I’m not in the right frame of mind, or I’m unable to see things more accurately. Will I admit I need help to see things clearly? I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to pause and pray before speaking or acting. And there are plenty of times I’ve had to seek counsel from a trusted friend who may be less entangled with the people or events.

Am I willing to tell the truth about me? This could reveal something unglamorous. I might put myself in rather unflattering light if I  confess my embarrassing or shameful words or actions. Will I intelligently and carefully share my good, bad, and ugly?* Beth Moore calls it “telling on yourself.” Would I dare to do that?

Am I willing to lovingly tell the truth about others? Hmmm. I might trip all over that word “lovingly.” If a person is hurt, “speaking the truth in love” may not come easily. (See Ephesians 4:15.) How I interpret someone’s intent could tarnish my response. But, simply put, telling the truth in a loving way isn’t always warm and fuzzy. Truth may hurt. I really hope to evaluate my words wisely. I think it’s possible to be honest and bring healing into the mix instead of hand grenades. (You should know this is a growth area for me. See? I’m telling on myself!) A good friend reminds me often that interactions and events combine elements of good and bad. It is rare to have a purely good or bad situation. Maybe the positive and negative won’t be seen equally, or one might be obscured. Will I be open to and truthful about both with others?

Daring to act foolishly is also a choice. At least one question clamors:

Am I willing to go against the flow? This is a tough decision. Internal and external pressures are enticing. Consensus is contagious, isn’t it? It might even be easier. There are times when that makes a lot of sense, but Matthew 7:13 carries a heavy warning: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.” Christians shouldn’t be surprised by disagreement on certain topics. (Note to self: Review previous point on “loving truth.”)

Answering these kinds of questions is where our faith gets real.

I’m a thinker type; I love ideas! God never intended faith to be a “just a good idea.” The Christian faith is meant to be active and lived out consistently in keeping with biblical wisdom and Jesus’ commands. We don’t think about being a disciple of Christ. We are hearers and doers of the Word (James 1:22). It’s rarely easy. It’s a process with plenty of room for growth every day. Mistakes will happen. The life lived with bold faith rooted in Christ must be daring in truth and love, growing in confidence even in stark contrast to the faces in the group.

And the Grace…
Remember when I said Truth or Dare drips with challenge? This seems to be on multiple levels. First the challenge comes to us in the form of the what we do. Then it comes to us in how we do it. When we dare to tell the truth to others (who may or may not share faith) about their impact in our lives, it can get messy. It’s so important to proceed wisely and innocently (Matthew 10:16 ESV). Again, bringing healing, rather than hand grenades. Wise words can do that, even if they aren’t warm and fuzzy.

Dare to be loving and truthful, friends!

Thanks for reading along.


Questions to Think About

1. Have you ever thought about the daily challenges that crop up in everyday life as a dare moment?

2. Think about the last time you successfully faced a moment like that. What did it look like to be truthful and loving? What was the best part of navigating it well?

3. If you have had less successful responses, what would strengthen you for the next time?


* Sharing intelligently, carefully, and truthfully evaluates honestly and takes the audience into account. We should always consider whether sharing is appropriate in “size” and effect. Keeping things in proper, logical perspective matters. Causing extreme emotional pain to others may not be acceptable or appropriate (Celebrate Recovery Step 9; Matthew 5:23-24).