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.

A Tale of Two Boys

I’m going off-topic today. I have something rolling around in my brain, and although this blog is primarily about my fight with depression, I hope you won’t mind a little sidetrack about something that very directly affects me and my family.

You see, I have an adopted son who is biracial. His birthdad is black, and his birthmom is white. He’ll be twelve years old in a few days, and he is hilarious, goofy, witty, intelligent, creative, charismatic, ornery, timid, energtic, brave, messy, thoughtful, athletic, sensitive, loyal, and lazy — yet hard-working when you least expect it. He hates school and loves his friends. He loves to play basketball and football, and is constantly on the move. Anything that requires him to sit down, be still and focus is like torture to him (hence the hatred of school). He’ll be in sixth grade this fall, his last year of elementary school.

I also once knew another boy who reminds me a lot of my son, Jonathan. This boy was named Zach, and he was also the middle of three boys in his family. Zach had A LOT of the same personality traits that Jonathan has. I think a lot of the words I used above to describe Jonathan would apply to Zach when I knew him best as a middle and high school kid.

I don’t remember specific details, but when Zach was in middle and high school, I know he got in trouble a few times. He was a good kid from a solid, Christian family, who were supportive of the school and community. But he made some mistakes and got in trouble a few times at school. He didn’t like to follow the rules, he pushed the limits, didn’t go for the clean cut look (his hair was REALLY long at one point), had a very diverse group of friends, and he didn’t like school — so he tended to act out and get in trouble from time to time. Nothing too major as far as I remember, but I do know it caused his mother quite a bit of worry along the way.

Zach was a great kid, and is now a husband to a beautiful wife, dad to two beautiful girls, a coach, and a high school teacher with a master’s degree. He had his problems in his growing up years, but his strong family, his faith in God, and a community that cared for him helped him surmount any obstacles in his way.

I have often looked at Zach, seeing his similarities to my own son, and it has given me hope that it is possible for Jonathan to succeed in life. I know that even though Zach had some rough years that caused his mother to get on her knees quite a bit, he made it through and is now a successful young man who serves his community and his church. And I hope for the same for my son.

However, I reflect on this today because there is one difference between Zach and Jonathan that shouldn’t matter, but unfortunately it does.

Jonathan is biracial. Zach is white.

And I fear that could make all the difference.

If Jonathan goes through some rough years when he enters middle school and high school, will the color of his skin cause teachers, administrators, youth leaders, police officers, and bystanders to fail to offer the same compassion and grace they showed a white boy several years ago? Will he have the same support from his community that Zach had? If he’s not athletic enough, smart enough, or makes some poor decisions, will he be knocked further down, or will those who support him give him a hand to lift him up? Will there be underlying, undetected racism that directly impacts the course of his life?

I truly don’t believe that very many in our community and school district would willingly and knowingly treat our young man different than a white child of a similar personality. However, many of us don’t truly realize the underlying prejudice that guides our thoughts and actions. I myself have had to evaluate and reevaluate my thought processes over the years since I became the mother of a precious biracial boy…and I’m ashamed to say that what I’ve found dwelling in my mind has not always been what it should have been. I have attempted to purge every hint of racism out if me, yet I know I still have room to grow. I would maintain that very, very few of us are completely innocent in the way we view and treat others who are different than us, as much as we would wish to claim that we are.

So my question remains…what does the future hold for my curly-haired, brown-eyed, dark-skinned son? And not only him, but the other children of his skin color who maybe don’t have the shadow of a loved one’s white privilege to protect them? Will their mistakes be given a disproportionate response because of the color of their skin? Will they be shown grace and be allowed redemptive opportunities so they can learn from their mistakes and become strong young men and women who contribute to the community? Or is our culture so lined up against them that they will be running uphill their whole lives, never able to stumble for a moment because our culture will never allow them room to fail?

I do not want to read about another Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd or Trayvon Martin, where a disproportionate response and unjust punishment was inflicted on a human being simply because of their skin color.

I do not want my son’s story to end like those I have read before.

I want my son to be treated the way Zach was treated — a kid who struggled, but was lifted up by those around him and was given grace and the opportunity to try again. He faced the consequences of his actions, but those consequences were not unjust or unreasonable. He was not required to sacrifice the fun, ornery, and intelligent parts of his personality in order to fit into the society around him. He was given guidance to help him become a man who is now a responsible, contributing member of our society and who loves Jesus with all his heart.

Can we do that for the Jonathans of our world? Can teachers approach them with grace and allow them the freedom to fail and try again? Can police officers treat them as they would a fine, upstanding young white man who made a mistake and needs to learn from a failure? Can we come behind these young men and women, encouraging and lifting them up in prayer, seeing them the way Jesus sees them?

Please, please, please join me in some soul-searching in how we perceive others. Ask God to search our hearts, showing us the hidden prejudices we didn’t know existed. Ask Him to heal our hearts and our culture.

When I became the mother of a bi-racial boy, I had no idea what I was doing. My exposure to and my understanding of systemic racism was minimal at best. Honestly, I still don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m trying to learn. Please, learn with me. Grow with me. The only way our world changes is if we change first.