Relationships

I wonder if you remember the nature of relationships that you have had over the years and what impact they have had on you. Over the years, I have given myself the chance to reflect on one that had this profound effect on me. We met at vacation classes during our three-month summer break when I was a rising 9th grader.

Back in those days, the school year calendar was similar to what we have in the United States. In the United States, the academic year began in mid- to late August and ended in May. The schedule in Ghana was from mid- to late September to late May. We had a long summer break, and instead of secondary students being at home doing nothing, we signed up for vacation classes at local secondary schools.

These vacation classes were simply an opportunity for kids from other secondary schools to meet, get to know each other, hang out, and be teenagers. I don’t think any of the kids did any serious academic work. All that we did was hang out, make new friends, and find new relationships. It was at one of these classes that I met this girl who took a great interest in me.

I would say that I was very surprised that someone would be interested in me. We both attended prestigious secondary schools, but she was very well-mannered, respectful, and smart. And I was this little rascal who was very truant. Why was she interested in me? What was it about me that made her want to sing Roses are Red, and Violets are Blue to me? It felt very, very strange, if not downright odd, but I guess there was something about me that intrigued her. I never asked what it was, and she never told me - it seemed hidden.

Over the years, I have had time to think about it, and whenever that thought comes to mind, I am reminded of a story about Albert Einstein: when he was 6 or 7 years old, his father gave him a compass. Whenever he looked at the compass, he found that a particular pin always pointed north. Einstein was convinced that there may be something invisible that makes this needle always point north. Later on in life, Einstein would argue that if you spend time looking at nature rather carefully, and you are lucky, you can catch a glimpse of something hidden.

One of the amazing things I find about Einstein’s thought is when he says that when you look carefully, and you are lucky, you can catch a glimpse of something hidden. This, to me, is the magic in all relationships - taking our time to look carefully just so we can get a glimpse of what is hidden.

The fact of the matter is that our impatience gets in the way, and so we cannot look carefully, and because we cannot look carefully, we never get lucky, and because we don’t get lucky, we don’t catch a glimpse of that which is hidden.

What seems to be hidden from us is why we are loved, just the way we are. To know why is to catch that glimpse. It is good to know why, but you don’t have to. Knowing why doesn’t change any calculus about why you are loved. Knowing why Janet loved me, just the way I was, probably wouldn’t have changed anything, but it would have provided me with an insight into why I mattered to her.

It is important to understand that all relationships - including our ultimate relationship with God - go through the cycle of harmony, disharmony, and repair. We begin on a great note, experience some disharmony, and then repair it so we can get back into harmony with each other.

Another way to look at all relationships is through closeness, disruption, and return. All relationships begin with a sense of closeness; over time, there is a disruption, which may be caused by a variety of things, and then (if possible) we return to being close again.

This cycle is notoriously continuous - that is why Lent becomes critically important for our relationship with God, with each other, and even with ourselves. But Lent isn’t supposed to be a 5-week wonder of looking in the mirror, where we encounter ourselves and our brokenness; Lent is supposed to be a permanent part of our lives. This is because through the process of looking in the mirror, we don’t only see who we truly are, but we ask the questions of old: "Why am I loved? Why does God still love me, even in my state?"

So, if Lent isn’t about our sins but about the mercy of God, then what we do is seek God’s mercy and invite God to fix all that is broken in us. This is the sweet spot for me - we make up with God, and we promise to chart a new path.

It is important to note that we don’t learn the skill of moving from disillusionment, distance, and disruption back to repair and return. It is not a skill that needs to be learned. It is a process.

And the first step in that process is getting into your right mind and then asking, "What can I do to fix it?" This is self-awareness. St. Paul would call it the renewing of the mind. It is your epiphany moment, one where things become clear to you because of being aware of yourself.

Self-awareness becomes the predicate for the survival of any relationship - with God, with each other, and with ourselves. And each return is based on our ability to be aware of who we are, where we are, and where we need to be. And the spot where we all need to be has always been a place of harmonious relationship with God, with each other, and with ourselves.

I once read that A flower doesn’t dream of the bee, it blossoms and the bee comes. To your partner, friend, and loved one with whom you have a relationship or once had a relationship, you can be the flower. You can blossom to the point where you can be so attractive to the bee. You can also, however, be the bee that sees the blossomed flower and is so attracted by it that it cannot stop itself from sitting on the flower.

In many ways, God is that constant blossomed flower, always ready to welcome the bee - you and I. God doesn’t ask us who we are, where we have been, or what we have been doing. But like Janet, God keeps God's relationship with us going by simply singing to us this beautiful song: Roses are Red, and Violets are Blue.

Manny+