I am a chronic over-sharer. It gets real uncomfortable, real quick. But unfortunately, not for me, which means I miss it most of the time when people exit stage left.
In a conversation recently with a newer friend, I had been complaining that it seemed it was more difficult for me to make (and keep) friends than the average Joe. I thought she would refute the sentiment with a sarcastic piece of encouragement that would feel like a little word love tap, on the top of my head, to signal me that I was overthinking… but instead, she laughed and responded that she could understand why.
Enter all of my feelings of being both too much and not enough.
When she had finally stopped finding it so comical, she continued with a short explanation of her thinking - “You don’t leave anything alone.”
I mean, sure. If something is out of place, I like to put it back. It’s a compulsion, really. Whether it be words, emotions, or the shower towel that is continually left on the bathroom floor. Everything has a place.
And while I wasn’t as amused as she was, she described something about myself that I have not observed but felt at home with - and it turns out, it’s true. I am not good at leaving things alone.
If you’ve huffed about a hard day, I am going to ask about it.
If you have hinted about an emotional experience or obstacle, I am going to want to explore that.
If you make an off-handed comment about your frustration or displeasure, I will want to hear how you got there.
It isn’t that I am nosey or that I imagine myself to be a fixer, but at the heart of it, I want to be known and know others more authentically than the surface. I want to know what bugs you and brings you joy. I want to know all of it because we are all of it. But being as it is 2024, this is tricky. Everything we share publicly is pretty much hand-picked and carefully crafted. We hint at strong opinions but aren’t well-versed in the long-form explorations (not just affirmations, ie echo chambers) that follow.
These kinds of conversations (or interrogations, I suppose, depending on your discomfort with that level of vulnerability) are how I see the internal dialogue going when Paul instructs us to “demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and… take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:5)
We are so skittish, but this is war language, and it is worded so strongly because - if you haven’t noticed - there is a battle going on in our minds.
In another conversation this week, my sister and I were discussing random life things and had somehow found ourselves in a rabbit hole. This is nothing new. My family is all wired pretty similarly, so the deep end of the conversation pool is often visited when we are together. We could swim there all day without tiring of it.
Amid the cackling laughs and random thoughts shared, I made a comment in a thwarted tone that made me pause a bit. If I was still speaking about it with a little attitude it must mean that there was something still lingering under the surface of that issue that I hadn’t dealt with. Because sometimes, in conversation, we find ourselves throwing spaghetti at the wall only to discover that something is still sticky.
Read that again if you breezed over it.
Sometimes, in conversation, you find yourself throwing spaghetti at the wall only to discover that something is still sticky.
Me with said sister. I know I look a little wild in this - I’ll chalk it up to “Exhibit B” on why it is so hard to make friends. Your girl is weird.
Do you notice the stickiness lately? Have you sensed that behind each tone change, fist grip, and stomach full of butterflies is a deeper issue that needs resolution? Hurts that God desires to address for us to heal?
It is really easy to stay out of the “deep end”, to go on with the happiness and contentment at surface level, but Satan doesn’t play fair and there is always a war waging somewhere.
Is it a temptation that you are ignoring in hopes that it will go away? Is it an unresolved offense that you picked up in a relationship that has caused a rift? Is it a false narrative about your own worth or value that you have allowed to continue to write into your story?
Does it line up with the “knowledge of God” (His character, His thoughts, His ways)?
Is it “obedient to Christ” (bringing our flesh in submission to God and acting upon His victory)?
If you are finding that there are still some things that are sticky, let’s take this as an encouragement from a “can’t leave it alone” friend to face it and fight. Not to ignore it and stuff it. God did not send His Son for us to live slowly tormented lives, being weighed down by the sorrows of this world. He told us to “take heart! For [He] has overcome the world” (John 16:33).
In both verses, we take. This isn’t passive. This is action. This is war.
If in your throwing spaghetti at the wall, there is something that sticks - take it and examine it a little. It is our body’s way of telling us that there is more to be found.