Over the past few weeks I have been pondering “relationships”…learning some new things, bringing back to mind forgotten or neglected wisdom, and stepping forward to create space for a healthier orientation in some of my own relationships.

I guess what strikes me as I reflect is that our world is built on relationships whether they are relationships of love or hatred, acceptance or rejection, empowerment or oppression, tenderness or abuse, intimacy or intimidation. 

I have also been struck by the realization of just how much freedom I have to decide how I will respond.  Many years ago I was challenged by a friend to consider how much power I was giving to other people  – there were some who seemed to be able to yank my chain whenever they wanted and I felt powerless to do anything but suffer the consequences…after all, who was I to stand up to them?

This all came to a head for me as I reviewed some of my journal this past week and still felt strongly the words I had written just a couple of weeks before:  “I am tired of being a prisoner…to how others respond or don’t respond to me.” 

I was reading this while sitting on a large boulder by a river, having spent the last hour or so, selecting different rocks, and on each one writing with a black marker, a name and then all the things that person had done to wound me.  I chose only those people that I still seemed to be struggling with, unable to move freely in other situations and relationships as a result. 

Sometimes I would hold onto the rock, swinging it back and forth, feeling its weight which seemed fitting for each person.  Then, when I was ready, I threw the rock into the river, releasing each person from the debt they owed, handing the debt over to God, affirming that I believed he would repay me, and restore to me what I had lost and even more. 

The exercise did not allow any mitigation – “they did this because…”; or “it’s okay, it turned out for good”; or “they really didn’t mean it”; or “who am I to point fingers?”  It was simply to intentionally call what was wrong, “wrong” and then give God access to bring healing and trust and to lead me in a different way. 

As I sat on that boulder, I didn’t feel any different…there was no sense of lightness, or suddenly feeling free or clean or rejuvenated or hopeful.  I did not now have renewed energy to try again in some of the relationships.  In fact, the largest rock of all also represented  a funeral of sorts…walking away for good, burying that person in the river bed.

As I took note of that I thought, “good”.  Too often we look for a specific feeling to decide if something was real or effective.  But from deep within, I did have the sense that what I had done would bear fruit in the days and weeks to come.  I wasn’t sure what that would look like…and didn’t want to form any expectations about what that should look like.  But I did anticipate something would come of it.

Since then, I’ve had two intense and intimate conversations with people, each of whom were also deeply wounded by relationships, some horribly abusive, many still present and unavoidable.  It seemed appropriate to share about my time at the river, and as I did, I watched hope come into their eyes – they couldn’t change the people or circumstances, but they could trust God to restore what was lost in ways they couldn’t imagine right now.  That was cool – to be a messenger of peace and hope for others who were hurting.

I’ve since had other situations that would normally have triggered in me some kind of defensive or negative or avoiding response and I have noted the absence of these in me.  I am inclined to believe that I am experiencing the freedom of the prisoner’s shackles having been thrown into the river along with those rocks.

Relationships are revealed every time you cross paths with someone, whether that someone is intimately close to you (for better or for worse) or merely a stranger.  How we relate to people is the stuff of relationships…and it seems that in this world the fruit of relating is as full of, if not more so, the stuff that wounds as it is of the stuff that heals and enjoys and celebrates.

I have no doubt that I will return to that river some day, to throw a few more “marked” rocks into the water, handing over the losses to God to repay and restore as he sees fit.  It is our way – there are no human relationships that are free from wounding.  But while I will get wounded, it’s my choice to stay free or become a prisoner again.  For now, I’m oriented to leave my shackles at the bottom of the river along with the rocks I threw in.