Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving
one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32
Sometimes not saying anything is the best course of
action. Especially when it involves asking about something as unimportant as a
blemish, a scratch mark, bruise or cut. Yet in our instant gratification, need
to know society, it’s amazing the insensitivity we can muster at another’s
expense.
Now I have a friend I can hear saying “you just need to
let that stuff go.” And most times I do let unappreciated comments roll off my
back. But after two weeks of having people, mostly grown men, ask me about a
blemish I have struggled with on my very conspicuous forehead, my “let it go”
reflex is shot. Kaput! Gone. Long gone… my feelings are more than hurt.
If I had the flexibility to just go to bed until all was
well, by golly I would have done it. But like most people, I have to work. I am
also very active in my community with volunteer and service efforts. I enjoy an
active lifestyle so I have tried to “stiff upper lip it” and persevere.
After all it’s just a zit! I have struggled with cystic
acne throughout my adult life. Not to
bore you with my personal hygiene, but I regularly visit the dermatologist and
use medicines to keep the beast, as it were, at bay. And occasionally I will
get a nasty one that defies the topical creams and becomes a monster that can
hurt physically and mentally, thanks to the seemingly clever quips people can
come up with to inquire about my forehead.
“Did somebody hit you?”
“Is it Lent? Looks like you just came from an Ash Wednesday service.”
And today’s latest inquiry – “are you becoming a Hindu?” – by a member of my own
church. Fortunately I was able to manage a quick retort, “No. But thanks so
much for asking!” Not the Christian, forgiving high ground remark I should have
made, but the kicked dog barked.
I’ve had accidents where I have done something stupid
and have the “war wounds” to prove it. I’m usually more than willing to share
those stories where my lack of agility or judgment at a certain point in time
has caused a visible injury that all want to know about. I can laugh at myself
with the best of them and am known for dishing it right back out…until I get to
a point where I can’t. And then I recoil like a turtle going back into its hard
shell, except I don’t have the luxury of having a shell.
Maybe you guys can handle the jabs about the errant
razor nick or the scab from hitting your follically-challenged head on an inanimate
object. After all, I am a member of the supposedly- weaker sex. It’s not that I
don’t want your compassion or caring for my current life situation. I would
just like you to be a little more considerate in your inquiries.
If anything, the remarks of the past two weeks have
given me a not-so-subtle reminder that words can and do hurt. I need to be
equally vigilant in keeping my tongue in-check and not causing undo harm to
those I care about with insensitive comments or questions.
So next time you come across someone whose appearance is
slightly different than how you usually remember it, please keep your cute
comments to yourself. If the person wants to share the gory details about this
temporary inconvenience, she will tell you. But maybe giving that person a warm
handshake and a simple “it’s good to see you today” is all the medicine that’s required.
