The Ear Ringing Silence

Silence speaks. Every mom knows this. This utter lack of sound fills us with dread and suspicion. We may not know the cause for it, but something’s going on!

So we go hunting. We look at all the usual places. Behind the couch. Under the table. In the closets. Underneath the stairs. Nothing. So we start looking for things that are out of place. Pillows turned into castles. Blankets converted into tents. They’re all empty.

That’s when the uneasiness sets in. Are they still in the house? All shoes are in their regular spot and the front door is safely locked. They must be in here somewhere. But they’re disturbingly quiet.

I found him in the bathroom. Chopped-off curls all over the floor. Nail scissors in hand. Between the curls still left on top of his head you could see blank spots of flesh poking out. He had been thorough. The nail scissors were brand new and, as it turned out, really efficient.

He stared at me. I didn’t know what to say so I did the only thing I knew how to at that point. I stared back. The silence still rang in my ears. It was obvious that one of us had to say something.

“Right, so what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

I looked at the bathroom floor and then at the bright spots on his head. Tons of suggestions came to mind, none of which would play out nicely. I chose the safe route.

“Cutting your hair?”

“Exactly.”

He was tense. The insecurity was barely hidden behind his anger and he was getting ready to attack before anybody could possibly attack him. Rejection was his default position.

“Are you pleased with the result?”

“No. And it’s your fault!”

I was amazed and somewhat amused. It all followed an unwritten script. We had been down this path before.

“My fault? How so?”

“You interrupted me before I was done!”

Oh, how I loved this boy! I loved his spunk and his stubbornness, the initiative and the complete lack of introspection. There was something to him that was pure magic. Nothing could hold him back.

There was a pause for a few seconds. Enough time to recalibrate.

“How long time do you reckon you’ll need to finish?”

“5-10 minutes.”

“Fine. I’ll be back in 15.”

As I closed the door behind me I felt myself bubbling with accumulated laughter. I rushed off to find the rest of the family and told the kids that their brother needed a few minutes to complete a new hairdo. The family was divided – half thought that he would leave the project now that it had been exposed, while the rest was pretty sure that he would complete his mission.

Half of us were right.

As I opened the bathroom door he stared triumphantly at me. The bathroom was an absolute mess. There was hair everywhere. All over the bathroom floor. In the sink. On the walls. Between the blinds. Covering the mirror.

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

He had cut off huge chunks of hair, leaving lines all the way down to the scalp in between the curls. Imagine a field of cornrows, majestically arising at the field, with wide open, completely dry paths running between the them. That’s what his hair looked like.

“So, are you happy with the result?”

“Yeah. But could you spray dye my hair yellow, please?”

Sure. Why not?

As my bumblebee promised to clean up the bathroom after himself I headed downstairs. I was not surprised at what he had done. I wasn’t even unhappy. I quietly admired the fact that he decided what he wanted to do, and then did it – without considering the opinions of others. As he grew older I often wished that he would think through the consequences of his actions, which he hardly ever did, but I still admired his initiative. I have always loved him.

It’s easy to laugh at a cute, little story of a minor behavioral issue. After all, his hair grew back. Our bathroom returned to its normal… no, not really. Ever. But it was fun. And his hair did grow back.

But what happens when people do something to us that we don’t like? Something that is way more serious than my little story? Something that actually hurts. What do we do when we feel rejected? Offended? Belittled?

Do we turn off our love?

Do we return the rejection? After all, they had it coming, right? They deserve to be punished!

Do we shield ourselves from getting hurt by terminating the connection? Focusing our attention elsewhere to avoid feeling the pain?

Please understand that I am not asking you to remain in a relationship that is damaging and unhealthy. Sometimes relationships need to be laid fallow for a while in order for new life to grow later on. Some friendships are really crucial to us for a period of time, but they are short-termed by nature. Other relationships change due to external circumstances. You move. You get another job. Your priorities change. That’s all good. Most of the time.

But sometimes you know that there is a God-given connection. You met someone for a reason. They were placed there as a gift to your life. They had a part to play in your story, as well as you in theirs.

You’re family. It doesn’t matter if you’re blood-related or not. You are family. A God-infused, healing fellowship of parts that eventually will hurt each other. A living organism with the capacity to look above and beyond. A holy union where forgiveness and love is chosen daily.

Love is not always easy. But it’s worth it.

So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, 

I’m bankrupt without love. 

Love never gives up. 

Love cares more for others than for self. 

Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have. 

Love doesn’t strut, 

Doesn’t have a swelled head, 

Doesn’t force itself on others, 

Isn’t always “me first”, 

Doesn’t fly off the handle, 

Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others, 

Doesn’t revel when others grovel, 

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, 

Puts up with anything, 

Trusts God always, 

Always looks for the best 

Never looks back, 

But keeps going to the end. 

Love never dies. 

1 Cor 13, 3-8 (MSG)

Choose love. Even if they don’t deserve it. I know I never did. He still loved me.