Monday, December 6, 2010
I've been visiting a website lately that allows you to post anonymous confessions. Things you wouldn't want those who know you to be aware of, but feel you need to get off your chest and put out into the universe. I find the confessions incredibly interesting. I'm continually amazed at the things people are afraid to tell those they love, and I wonder about how healthy it really is to the relationship to keep certain things private. There are of course silly confessions, things that would only hurt, and those that are not helpful and I don't begrudge anyone the need to let those out instead of shouting them to the people for which they are intended. When leaving a confession you are given the option of allowing others to comment on your secret. This is where it gets fascinating. It's quite amazing what assumptions are made about the posters based solely on a few sentences from an unidentified source. The opinions are made without knowing anything other then how the person reacted to a specific frustration.
Here is my point in discussing the confessional board. I have been judged many, many times based on nothing more then other people's assumptions of what they think they know (did you catch that? what they THINK they know). Sometimes the rumors I hear are funny, (like when it got back to me that old classmates heard I had dropped out of college to move away to NJ to live with some man I didn't know) and some are hurtful (like when I found out people were questioning the sanctity of my marriage because I have male friends). At both ends of the spectrum truth was absent because those who declared the inaccuracies didn't take the time to get to know me well enough to know what God was doing in my life, or to know who I was as a person, or to even just ask instead of spread. It's so easy to judge what we don't know, it's much harder to take the time to get to know what is going on in someones life that would cause them to act or think or speak a certain way. As I have gotten older, I've learned that real friendships aren't found in surface talk, but in the willingness to go beyond, into that place that holds the truth. And I, for one, am thankful for those who kept hammering away until they found the real me.