Town Pariah

I have been wondering about this for some time, but today this thought came flooding back to me when I ran into a person I did not expect to see at church. "Do difficult people know they are difficult?" Or, add any other adjective: needy, obtuse, whatever. The question is do they know they cause this reaction in other people that makes one want to run the other way when they come a-callin'?

I always end up with these folks attaching themselves to me. Again, I do not think it is because I am all that approachable, I just have a gift (curse). And, truth be told, there are very few people in the world that make me want to go the other way or pretend to have diarrhea or typhus when they come to visit me. But one of them showed up today. I know we are supposed to love everyone, but in all honesty all I wanted to do was not get trapped in my office for an hour after church was over. It ended up being only a few minutes, thankfully. I feel bad that I feel this way, especially considering what line of work I am in. I feel compassion for this person, as I would for anyone who has done so many foolish, unthinking things to make them the town pariah. I just wonder if they know that's what they are? And, part of me has very little patience for someone who cannot take social cues, like body language, moving closer to the door, stepping into the hall, calling out in anguish . . . I guess sometimes when we become that needy, our ability to discern social cues goes out the window in deference to our need to be accepted and loved. Sad. The last conversation I had with this person was pretty blunt and I think it was appreciated. Speaking the truth in love is a slippery slope.

With that in mind, I wonder if I might not have the makings of a town pariah myself. I usually keep my political thoughts to myself, unless someone asks me directly (and even then, I will change the subject). My feeling is that religion and politics should not mix all that much in my public life, especially since I work at a church. But, from time to time, certain political comments are made at the church like everyone in the room agrees. There is this unwritten, unsaid something that makes us believe that because we are all believers in Jesus, we think the same about everything else. Sometimes, in my more paranoid times, I feel less than comfortable when these comments are made. We like to say that here in America everyone has the right to their own opinions, just as long as they coalesce with mine or those of the larger group. I think for the time being I will keep my mouth shut, I will avoid pariah country and I definitely won't put that "Bay Democrats" bumper sticker on my SUV. I have this fear of slashed tires in the Republican nest, uh, enclave. Just kidding. I love Republicans. I am married to one.

In other news:

As of last Wednesday my wife and I have been married fourteen years. I guess this makes us adolescent marrieds or something. We did almost nothing to celebrate this milestone. That day we both were back to our normal schedules of school and choir rehearsals and such. She gave me a card. I gave her a card that I had glued in a personal message. It must have been good because she told me I could work for Hallmark. Maybe this was not a compliment. Anyway, Friday evening I had a wedding rehearsal (for which I sang four songs) and the girls had a sleepover party so after my rehearsal ended, we went to Panama City Beach to Captain Anderson's restaurant. We had heard wonderful things about this restaurant since we moved to Panama City and so I kind of thought it would be nice. Turns out was just expensive. We had a gift card that we have been meaning to use for almost a year now but we never seemed to have the opportunity to go. I forget we live in a touristy place, and the restaurant was definitely touristy. But, to be fair, the food was very good and it was nice to be somewhere without three children in tow. The irony of it all is that we were seated at a nice table for two and then a family with a crying baby was seated next to us. Every time we go out by ourselves this happens.

Well, I have to go. It appears that our air conditioning is not working in our house. I am not ready to pass out yet, but I think Dick Cheney may be at my door.

UPDATE: I feel terrible. I saw this person again today and they told me how much they enjoyed talking to me and how easy it was to just be themselves. And, worst of all, that they always feel better after talking to me, even when I am brutally honest. I am the worst sinner ever. Maybe I should be thankful that God works through me when I really don't want Him to.