Hollering at the Handicapped

When I married my husband almost five years ago, we both had plenty of "baggage". Some of it was physical. I often teased that between my stretch marks and his excessive hairiness, nobody else would have taken either of us. Most of our baggage, however, was emotional - scars left behind by what seemed like ages of hurt from our respective pasts. I had dealt with much of mine through forgiveness, but Mark hadn't gotten there yet.

Today, as I was talking to a friend, I remembered a couple of stories about our first couple of years together. You see, my husband has always been wonderful to me when we are one-on-one or when we are at home with the kids. However, when we were first married, he had a bad habit of making fun of me to and/or in front of other people. He called it "teasing", but I always thought that teasing was more fun. His brand of teasing didn't feel fun to me at all. It was usually a comment to the effect of, "Who can get a word in with her around." I remember the first time he did it. We were just dating, and he was at church with me for the first time. A longtime guy friend of mine shook his hand and said, "I've known Marcie pretty much all our lives." To which Mark replied, smiling sweetly, "I'm sorry." I was a little surprised that he had said it, but then everyone laughed, and I kind of put it into the rolodex... you know; the one women keep in the back room of the mind in case they need to bring up something - anything - you've long forgotten?

Well, we only dated for about 5 weeks before we got engaged, and, within another 2 months of that, we were married. He lived almost 4 hours away while we were dating, and we only saw each other every couple of weekends during that time... much of it with children in tow. It's a good thing too, or his quirky little habit would probably have kept us from getting married at all.

Back to today, my friend and I were talking about the difference between handling a difficult situation the right way and handling it the wrong way. I immediately scrolled through "the rolodex" and thought of two instances which went two very different ways.

The first was when we were looking at houses. We were starting to get desperate as we'd been looking for almost a year and were setting the kinds of records with our realtor that make a person memorable - and not in a good way. Once, as we were driving down a country road, we saw a gorgeous house that we knew was way beyond our price range. However, we started quipping about it, during which I said, jokingly, something to the effect of, "Well, I guess I could always get a job, but I'd have to make more than you." He (and I'll maintain that he was) - not thinking - replied, "Oh, yeah. Right. What kind of job are you going to get? You've been a housewife for 6 years. You're basically uneducated, and ..." I think he said some more things after that, but I was recording on that rolodex so furiously, it was like my mental hand was getting a cramp. If you're a woman, you probably gasped when you read the words in red. I've never told that story in front of another woman without hearing a loud gasp or series of gasps. They know, right away, at precisely which point in his words they would have had to knock him into next Tuesday. I was shocked too. I mean, I knew he could be insensitive sometimes. After all, he had been a bachelor for most of his adult life, but was this what he really thought of me??? Uneducated? Incapable of making an amount comparable to his wages? I mean, not that I doubt that, but it's through no fault or deficiency of my own - I believe - that I would doubtful be able to earn wages comparable to his. He had just taken what I had thought was an amusing, far-fetched conversation and turned it into something personal. I can't remember exactly how I reacted, but I know I wasn't pleasant. I said something to let him know which words had hurt me and why. I probably didn't raise my voice much, as I imagine there were kids in the car, but I'm almost certain it was followed with an ugly, cold silence that could have ended in another "Berlin Wall" running straight down the middle of our house. Bottom line, I was mad, and it probably took a few days before I came around, and that's generally unlike me. I don't do grudges well.

In this next story I was a bit prouder of my response. The funny thing is that I don't remember exactly what it was that he said that time - the exact wording that was hurtful. It was likely something to the effect of "if someone could ever get a word in edgewise around you," because that has been in his repertoire for quite some time. This time, remarkably, I didn't respond right away. I was frustrated, and, as a result, I prayed first. I got with God, and came out of it remembering my identity. I just looked at him, as he faced forward driving, and I said simply, "I'm a blessing to you, whether you know it or not... whether you acknowledge it or not." I was not a loudmouth, always prattling on about some worthless thing (this, I had bought before). I was God's beloved daughter and the wife that God thought would be perfect for Mark - what he needed. I was the iron that would sharpen him. I was the sister who would speak Truth to him. I was the woman who would speak life to him. I was one who God would use to refine him. Truth reigned, and a minute or so silence ended with Mark saying, "You're right. I know that you're right, and I love you." World War III did not ensue. The rest of trip was just delightful.

I have since come to realize that I try to project how I would do something onto the person/people with whom I'm interacting. I think that it is far more productive to realize that the person with whom I am trying to relate is nothing like me. He/she wears skin like me, but that's where it ends. Even if we share likes/dislikes it's probably for entirely different reasons. Our motives don't usually match. Our desires rarely align. Our problem is that we're handicapped. When something happens to damage a person before he/she is born, that person comes into the world "handicapped". They are incapacitated in one or more ways - mentally, physically, etc. This draws, from most of us, a depth of compassion we didn't know we had. We show that person a tenderness and dignity that we don't tend to give those who cut us off in traffic or tell us we're uneducated. However, what about when something or a series of things happens to a person after he or she is born? Is that person not considered handicapped anymore? (In most cases...) If it happens one day before you come screaming into the world, fate is responsible, and you are pitied. If it happens a day after, you are responsible for it, and you are guilty.

The thing is, I am handicapped. My husband is too. The things he said, as he later realized, were borne out of anger and resentment toward women in general... not just toward me. He had suffered unimaginable heartache at female hands, and he wasn't able to figure out how to reconcile those feelings with the truth of who God had made him. The truth is, that the people who had wronged him had probably suffered the same kinds of things at the hands of others. We can't see how badly handicapped the person next to us is, and we can't know all the reasons why they act the way they do. This afternoon, I was thinking, "I wouldn't yell at a handicapped person. I wouldn't give him/her the silent treatment. I wouldn't jot off a sassy e-mail full of pithy sayings and smart remarks." I would recognize that, if they had been untouched by the harm this fallen world can deal us, they wouldn't intentionally hurt, anger, or annoy me, and I wouldn't them.

This isn't an excuse to take another person's abuse, but it is a plea, or a reminder even, to consider that there are reasons, far beyond what we can know, for the ways others act. They are handicapped, just like you... just like me. The actions or words of another person don't give me my worth. My worth was given me long before I was born or even conceived. Before I was conceived by my parents, I was conceived of by God Himself. He thought about what He wanted to make, and He made a me. Of all the other things He could have made... made a me? That's my true worth - where it lies... the desired creation of the One who hung the stars, and so is my husband, my neighbor, and the guy in the elevator next to me. Yes, even the lady who cuts me off in traffic was meant to be. If I remember who God made me when He saved me, the words and actions of others won't impact me. They won't own me.

I am very happy to report that, although not easily achieved, Mark has worked through a great deal of forgiveness toward people who hurt him and treats me as wonderfully outside the home as he does inside it. We are truly blessed to have one another.

Giving a person value was God's prerogative. Recognizing that worth is our responsibility. So stop hollering at the handicapped around you. Take pity - not just because they are handicapped, but because you are too.