Many of us have experienced disappointment in relationships. Being overlooked, unappreciated and stunningly disregarded can be painful.
Such disappointments occasionally happen with people we invested in. Those we were determined to love and lift up, despite their less-than-desirable behavior.
We do this because we’re Christ followers. Because Jesus was the smartest guy in the room but allowed Himself to be less – so others could grow. So they could rise, increase their confidence…so they could go out and be fishers of men. So they could succeed.
Sometimes, this included His being overlooked, unappreciated… most definitely misunderstood.
My point: we follow the whole ‘forgive a million times, love them anyway’ philosophy Matt 6:14-15, Eph 4:32, Matt 18:21-22.
But…
There comes a moment when the stab wounds leak on a regular old Wednesday at 2pm and you can’t focus on anything but the oozing pain. The collection of cuts by the same person you encouraged, excused, asked others to swallow pride for, accept and love – and they did – because you asked them to…
The wounds ache because last time you saw them, they hesitated. Tensed. Perplexingly. You were previously worthy while championing their personal ascent. But suddenly the veil you were praying would lift from their eyes, lifts from yours.
What felt like a sudden tectonic, seismic shift in the relationship was merely a steady drifting between two continents. Character was changing like a glacier quietly floating, carving a new valley. The changes were apparent, but I dismissed them, excused them. Again and again.
Turns out, the seemingly quiet transformation was intentional. Practiced. Created.
The result? Brilliant! The renovation was unrecognizable – and, admittedly, impressive.
In one swift moment, I came to my senses. I read their expression and understood what they were conveying: all your prayer and whatever else you did to elevate me… I appreciate it, but I’ve moved on to different people now. Less spiritual. More ethically flexible.
…please step aside.
And, so I did.
Breath caught in my throat. I touched my chest, compressing the final cut.
Why did it take so long to distance myself? Because I was considering the Lord’s view.
Other women of remarkable godliness, far more devout, appropriately create deliberate space long before I do. I’ve seen them call BS and say, “no more”, not at all worried if God disapproves of their distance. It took me a while, but I learned.
Do we still pray? Yes. Love the person? Unequivocally. Remotely.
Leave our hearts wide open for the occasional jab? No more.
Because sometimes, we simply need to stop the bleeding.
Tales from a Mid-Lifer 
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