The Use and Misuse of Buts (One T, Not Two T’s)

Fair warning: When reading this post you’re going to have to stifle the middle school boy inside you. I know, I know. The use of the word “but” creates so many opportunities for jokes, elbow nudges, and giggles. I am the mom of three boys, so trust me that I see the danger in the use of this word in any context. BUT (see what I did there?), I have confidence in your maturity. Or at least, I have confidence that you can pretend to be mature for a little while. 😊

Over the years of my faith, I’ve found much comfort in the Word of God. I’ve also found heartache, confusion, challenge, hope, insight, wisdom, rebuke, direction, and much, much more. It’s not an easy book to read, because it dives deep into your heart and mind, requiring a response to the most important questions you’ll ever encounter. Within that has come wild comfort in my darkest times. My journals during my times of deepest depression are filled with scripture after scripture that showed me how deeply God understood my pain, and how desperately He wanted to be my salvation within it.

One passage that has stuck with me for many years is Psalm 13:

“How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?
          How long will You hide Your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
          and everyday have sorrow in my heart?
          How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.
          Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, 'I have overcome him,'
          and my foes will rejoice when I fall."

Many times, I have been able to connect with the honesty and the vulnerability shown by the author of this psalm. He even goes so far as to demand an answer from God in the midst of his angst and sorrow. The fact that this is recorded in the midst of a book of worshipful psalms says to me that God is not afraid of our sadness, our hopelessness, our pain, and our questions. He can handle our doubts and our fears, and does not shy away from us when the pain of life overwhelms us.

However, the psalmist doesn’t stop here. He continues:

"BUT I trust in Your unfailing love;
          my heart rejoices in Your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
        for He has been good to me.”

The author reaches inside himself, recalling the things of the past that his God has done and the ways He has come through for him. And he chooses to remember that God is faithful. He elects to sing to his God, trusting that in the midst of the sorrow and pain, God has brought salvation, and will continue to do so. It’s a deliberate choice he makes, and the use of the word “but” is powerful here. Life is incredibly hard right now, BUT I will choose to trust the One who has proven Himself trustworthy.

In addition to this, Jesus Himself spoke words of comfort to His disciples on the night before He was crucified. After explaining to them the trials and the joy that were imminent, He said, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. BUT take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

And Romans 5:6-8 shows God reaching to us at our lowest point: “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. BUT God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Ephesians 2:1-5 illustrates this as well: “As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world….BUT because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions.”

These are just a few examples of how God does not use logic the way He could, but instead reaches to us in our lowest times. Scripture is full of these, “but God” moments. If you read closely, you’ll find that God’s logic consistently bends in our favor. He does not say, “You tried your hardest, BUT it wasn’t enough.” He doesn’t say, “I love you, BUT you still must pay this price.” He doesn’t say, “You are my child, BUT you must learn to walk on your own.”

Instead, He whispers and shouts over and over again, “Life is hard. Sin is impossible to overcome. You will have pain on this earth. BUT TAKE HEART! I have overcome the world! I am your salvation! You don’t have to strive – I have already paid the price that will redeem you from the pit. I love you with an everlasting love.”

You see, He uses this one little conjunction that could be construed as a negative, and instead switches it to the positive – using it to reassure us of His deep love and salvation. It’s beautiful and poignant and brings me peace. I am so unworthy of His love, but He gives it so freely.

I could end this here. However, I feel led to comment on the misuse of this word. I’ve seen a sad theme lately among many of my friends and acquaintances, and it has broken my heart. I don’t think it’s done out of hatred or unkindness, but maybe simply confusion and a lack of perspective.

As you know, there has been a huge momentum swing for the black community over the course of the past month. Years, decades, and centuries of abuse, neglect, bias, and racism have come to a head, and the world is finally starting to realize that there is a real issue here. I am heartened by so many of my white friends and family who are standing with and using their influence to fight for those who have been marginalized and damaged by systemic racism. We are reading, learning, listening, and doing our best to come alongside our black brothers and sisters – joining them in their battle and validating the pain they have felt. We are confronting our own white privilege and trying to understand our role in changing the story.

Unfortunately, some of the story is being lost by this word, BUT. We are intelligent people, so we want to see all sides of the issue. And social media will certainly give you all sides of the issue if you have any diversity at all in your friends and acquaintances. So, what started as people standing together in the face of injustice and racism quickly shifted to:

 “I know they are suffering, BUT they shouldn’t be rioting, causing physical damage, and being violent.”

“That police officer shouldn’t have used excessive force, BUT if the perpetrator hadn’t resisted arrest then none of this would have happened in the first place.”

“There are definitely some bad cops out there, BUT most are good.”

“I know protesting is important, BUT why do they get to gather in large groups when I can’t go to a graduation or a baseball game?”

Honestly, there is great truth and logic in many of these statements. BUT are these statements helpful? I would argue that no, they are not. These statements shift our attention away from the true issue. This is what is called a “red herring.” Whether intentional or not (and I truly believe/hope that most of the time it’s unintentional in this setting) a red herring is something that is misleading or distracting from the true issue at hand. Yes, absolutely, most cops are good and noble and I’m incredibly thankful for the work that they do to keep us safe, BUT that’s not the main issue right now. The main issue is that blacks have been systemically oppressed for centuries and it is time to take the next step toward changing that. I agree that Rayshard Brooks made some poor choices by getting drunk, grabbing a taser, and running away from police, BUT this situation is a symptom of a much bigger problem with the way a police system is designed to interact with those who are struggling. I agree (along with many of the black community) that violent and destructive rioting undercuts great strides that have been taken and is simply wrong, BUT I can also see that many have felt unheard for so long that they feel they have no other way left to fight a system that has persecuted them.

When we use the word “BUT” in the context of this conversation, can we dare to use it the way Jesus would? When I was in college one of my most memorable assignments was to go through the gospels and record the way Jesus interacted with people. This paper I wrote was life-changing, because it was overwhelmingly clear that true and genuine compassion is what radiated from Jesus in his interactions with people. He did not say, “I’m sorry that you are crippled, BUT because it’s against the rules to do work on the Sabbath, I can’t help you.” Instead he flipped it and said, “Yes, it’s the Sabbath and it’s against the rules to do work today, BUT my love is much stronger than the rules.” He had a way of getting at the heart, and keeping the main issue at the forefront. I believe that if Jesus were standing here today, His heart would be one of compassion for each person He interacts with on every side. I believe He would say, “I see your pain, BUT I am with you.” “I see the oppression you have lived under, BUT I will walk this road with you.”

Could we shift the way we use the word “but”? Could we choose to end such statements in a positive way? Could we simply see the issue for what it is, instead of distracting with other issues that may not be directly connected? Can we lay down our rights, our arguments, our sense of righteousness, and instead use logic that flows in favor of the downtrodden and oppressed? Can we choose to not be distracted by side issues, in the same way that Jesus did not get hung up on our sin but instead willingly laid down His life so that we could live?

Our brothers and sisters are crying out in pain. Pain that they did not deserve but instead inherited, just as we inherited some of the guilt for the way this system operates. Let’s not say, “I see your pain, BUT maybe it’s not as painful as you think,” or, “I know this is wrong, BUT isn’t this other issue wrong too?” Instead, let’s say, “I see your pain, BUT I will walk this road with you. I won’t minimize your pain. I will do all I can to change this broken system.”

I readily acknowledge that I find myself making the same mistake many times in my interactions with others. I make judgments based on logic that stems solely from my own perspective. But today I have been reminded that our God has the highest sense of justice and righteousness. He is the creator of our moral code, and the one who has the highest right to call us to accountability for our sins and double standards. BUT He also has the highest sense of love and compassion, and that love and compassion are what prompted Jesus to die for every single one of us. May I show the same love and compassion that He shows, and lay down my right to be right, so that others may live. I am not saying that we excuse sin, injustice, or the other issues of the world, but that we look at each of these things from a perspective of grace, just as Jesus does.

Earthworms, Pools, & Panic Attacks

Embarrassing Story Time! 😊 I have a bit of an embarrassing story to tell, but because it very directly pertains to the subject of mental health, I feel compelled to share it here. Please know that I am NOT making light of what some people struggle with on a daily basis. Instead, my goal is to transparently share my absurd story, in hopes that others can see what my eyes were opened to – that although panic is at times very illogical, it is still very real.

This spring, we decided to buy a pool for our backyard. It became clear that even if the pools do open this summer, we probably won’t want to go hang out with large groups of people who spit, pee, and wipe their runny noses directly into the water. Yuck.

So we scoured the internet for the best deal, ordered our 15-foot Intex pool, forced our children to watch YouTube videos about pool maintenance, found out our order was never going to be delivered because it was damaged in transport, ordered another pool, and finally received the blessed box that promised to contain several summers’ worth of entertainment for our family.

Despite the fact that it was April and barely 70 degrees, we wasted little time in opening that box and setting up the pool. We found the most level spot in our yard, spread the ground cover, and got to work putting it together. Then we turned on the hose and watched in anticipation as it very slowly filled with 3,841 gallons of water.

As it filled, we noticed that maybe our ground wasn’t quite as level as we first thought. In fact, once the pool was full, we could see that one side was about two inches lower than the other. It didn’t seem like too big of a deal, though I was rather nervous in some ways – especially since that one side of the pool seemed to be bulging out quite a bit. And that side of the pool was closest to our house.

However, we pretty much just ignored it and let the kids play in the freezing water for a couple weeks.

Then it rained one day – a lot. We have a pool cover, and by the time the rain was done, the cover was filled with quite a lot of dirty, nasty water. Josh, Micah and I attempted to pull the cover off of the pool while allowing the rain water to be funneled over the edge of the pool. Unfortunately, water is really heavy, and we failed in that attempt. What we did accomplish was to move the cover with all that heavy water to one corner of the pool – the corner that was already strained because it was holding more water pressure than it was designed to.

THANKFULLY, the wall of the pool didn’t collapse. However, the support posts sunk drastically lower in the ground, and it became clear that if we didn’t drain and move the pool, we could have a disaster on our hands.

As we drained the pool and watched all of that precious, perfectly balanced and chlorinated water run out of the hose onto the street, I was quite discouraged. We had wanted to do this really fun thing for our family, and we had pretty much just messed it up. Because it was going to be cold for at least a week, we let the mostly empty pool sit for a while until we could summon the energy required to sufficiently level the ground for Attempt #2.

This past Saturday was finally the day when we were ready to try again. We got started mid-morning. First, we emptied the rest of the water out of the pool, and then moved the pool and the incredibly nasty tarp off the rancid, awful-smelling grass underneath. Then we started the process of adding some dirt to make a level surface.

There’s an area under our treehouse that has long-been considered the “dig area.” This is the place where the kids were allowed to dig when they were little. It’s also the only place the dog is allowed to dig, but he hasn’t quite gotten the memo on that yet, unfortunately. Anyway, this area is where we put excess dirt when we happen to have it from some project, or we also pull dirt from it when we need it for another project. So obviously, since we needed dirt, this is where we dug from.

Apparently, however, some earthworms had been making this area their home for quite some time. As Josh started digging, he remarked on the amazing number of worms, and how we should use them for fishing sometime. Although I don’t really like squirmy things like worms, and I especially hate snakes, I didn’t really think too much of it. I have a garden, and I’m used to coming across the occasional worm. In fact, when I see one I’m usually kind of excited because I know how good they are for the soil.

I wasn’t prepared, though, for the sheer number of worms that were in that dirt. As Josh filled up the wheelbarrow and moved it to the area we were leveling, my task was to break up the dirt clods and spread out the soil with a rake. However, I was quickly revolted by the number of worms. There were so many! Every time I hit a dirt clod with the rake, there was another one (or two or three). And some of them were HUGE! I was trying to be careful because I didn’t want to kill the worms, which almost made it worse. Every time I saw a worm, part of my brain would freak out because it was so disgusting and sneaky. The other part of my brain would say, “But they’re so good for the soil. Be nice to them!” I kept making weird comments and noises, trying to laugh off my extreme aversion to the worms. I tried trading tasks with Josh, thinking that if I did the digging it would be better than breaking up the dirt clods, but it was just as bad. I found myself almost retching, but then laughing at myself and trying to tough it out. I don’t see myself as a squeamish person, and I can generally fight my way through most things. It was an insult to my pride that I was being so dramatic about it, and that I couldn’t just suck it up and push through it.

I kept pushing myself to keep going, and then after one more disgusting dig, I finally gave up, ran to the house with my arms flailing like a windmill, and said, “I can’t do it anymore!” I yelled inside for Micah to come and take my place, walked to the middle of the yard, and then I laughed at myself, and then I couldn’t breathe, and then my legs were shaking, and then I was leaning over with my hands on my knees, and then I was bawling for no apparent reason.

In short, I had a full-on panic attack…over earthworms.

As I said before, I try not to be a dramatic person. I try to tough things out and I’m a really hard worker. I understand the power of mind over matter. But there was something about that particular situation that sent me into a panic attack. It made no sense. It was completely illogical. It wrecked me for a few hours – at first I was shaky and couldn’t walk without help for a while.  I was on edge, completely exhausted, and embarrassed. I kept my sense of humor and was able to laugh at myself, but it continued to have an effect on me. I kept replaying the whole experience in my head, and apologized to Josh multiple times for being so dramatic. His words of comfort were so helpful though. Despite the fact that I felt like I’d had a ridiculous reaction to an absurd situation, his simple response was, “It’s still very real, though.”

And that is the truth. Despite the fact that I had an extreme reaction to a simple stressor, the reality is that my physical and emotional response was very real. It wasn’t something I did for attention. It wasn’t a choice I made to overreact. I wasn’t trying to get out of work. The reality is that my body and my mind had a very extreme reaction to a seemingly benign situation.

As I was sitting on a patio chair, recovering from my first-ever full-fledged panic attack, it struck me how incredibly difficult this must be for those who experience this as a normal occurrence – and especially for those who have traumatic memories that are triggered by small, seemingly harmless situations.

That afternoon I reflected on the fact that this definitely goes in the top five worst experiences in my life. I don’t actually have any such list, but if I did it would probably be on it. It was miserable and it was awful and I never want to experience it again. But I’m thankful in some ways, because I was given a very, very small glimpse of what some struggle with regularly. My sense of compassion and empathy is expanded because of this experience, which is why I chose to share about it here.

If you have a loved one, friend, or even acquaintance who has struggled with a panic disorder, I hope that my sad, slightly humorous story has allowed you a brief glimpse into what a seemingly illogical reaction might feel like for that person. I know it has definitely given me a new perspective. And if this is something that you personally struggle with, I’d love to hear more about your perspective if you’re willing to share.

You’ll be happy to know that our pool is now level and full again, and that my children are currently freezing their butts off in there at this very moment. And although I doubt I’ll ever swim in it without thinking of the large number of worms crawling in the soil beneath it, I’m looking forward to joining my children soon – once the weather gets above 75 degrees. 😊