Choosing Risky Love

I was 19 years old working a summer job between college semesters painting our little town’s city hall. It was a season of experiencing new life in my spiritual walk with Jesus. One day, I was overjoyed to have a conversation with a local business owner next to the government building, in which he expressed thanksgiving for all that Jesus had done in his life. I was encouraged and shared a bit of my spiritual journey. He seemed encouraged as well.

The next day, as I was high up on some scaffolding, I overheard the businessman’s conversation with a customer below in his shop. The windows were open. The exchange got heated. The businessman’s volume increased, and his language became abusive, calling the customer many foul things. I was devastated over the behavior of my Christ-following brother. And for the rest of the day and all that night I couldn’t get out of my mind all the things the man had said.

In the middle of the night, the thought occurred to me that I should talk to him about what I had heard and how it had affected me. I did not like that thought. The next morning and all through my day of work, the thought would not leave. Just before going home, I happened to see him. Trembling, I told him what I had heard and how poorly I thought it had represented Jesus. The man looked at me in shock and was speechless for a few moments. He finally waved his hand,  muttering “nobody’s perfect” and walked away. For the rest of the summer, I never saw him again. I suspect he made it a point to avoid me.

Because I care?

To this day, I can’t say for sure that talking to him about his behavior was the right thing to do. I only know that I was hoping (rather naively I suppose) that he could be a true Christian brother and we could encourage and challenge one another in our faith throughout those long summer days. What I am certain of today is that there are always going to be conversations to be had that are very hard. And I have wrestled with the question over the years whether or not they’re worth having. As a husband, father, son, brother, friend, and ministry leader, why bother with bringing up difficult things with people, especially with people I want to have a good relationship with? Why not work to avoid what’s uncomfortable and “keep the peace?”

The kinds of hard conversations I’m referring to typically arise when interacting with those I care about. They often have to do with the need to humbly confess my own fault (or sin). Often there is the uncomfortable situation of how to tell another that his words or actions hurt. This might include asking about what might be behind overly strong or passive-aggressive statements. And then there are the situations where I feel that I need to call out behavior that does not rightly represent family or community values. None of these are enjoyable. So, is it always necessary?

When I look at myself honestly, I realize that on my own I’m a wimp. My preference is to pretend I don’t see or hear things that might cause a ruckus if I have to confront them. But then I have seen what happens over the long haul when the hard conversations are put off indefinitely. The relationship still suffers and usually has little chance of healing or growing.

Hazardous Love

Bottom line: hard conversations are often a needed form of love. Yes, they are risky. Despite your most sincere desire for restoration, the other person can reject your efforts; judge your intentions; suspect injurious motivations in each word you use. And the situation can feel worse after your attempt than before you even tried. But that is the nature of risk-taking . . . and of love. True love is never completely safe (ask God about that one).

There are, however, things I can do to increase the chances of a more positive outcome. I must prepare myself for a difficult conversation with someone I care about.

  • I need to consider the timing of the conversation. When might the other person be most open to having a hard conversation? What factors might give the other person the best opportunity to respond positively? Consider his or her emotional state, other outside stressors. It’s not just about me getting something off my chest as soon as possible. And yet, I cannot let it go on forever unaddressed in some way.
  • I need to consider my own attitude. Do I simply want to justify myself? How open am I to hearing hard feedback about my own contribution to the difficulties in the relationship? It’s called humility – my willingness to consider blind spots in how I am understanding the situation.
  • I need to clarify what kind of results I am seeking. Am I truly pursuing reconciliation or just intent on being proven right? That probably means I don’t pull out the grocery list of offenses but rather seek to talk about the one big thing that is getting in the way. If my goal is to see the other person fall at my feet and tell me how right I am and how wrong they have been, I’m not ready to have a difficult conversation. In that case, I’m just hoping to be given the opportunity to gloat.
  • I need to pray. This should be the first, middle, and last thing I do before the conversation. Praying that both our hearts can be softened to truly listen, put away accusations, and seek to understand where the other person is coming from is so important. Such prayers, I believe, God truly wants to answer. God is more interested in reconciliation than in holding up the gloved hand of the winner of the match. What do I need to let Him do in my heart so that I am aligned with Him?

Even with approaching a hard conversation doing everything right, there are no guarantees of satisfactory results. It all comes down to a Jesus follower’s commitment to learn to love like Jesus, even when it hurts and feels confusing.

The Loving Conversation

Thinking back to the conversation I had with that business owner, love might have been saying I should remain silent, at least for the time being. I was thinking more about myself than my neighbor. Proving myself zealous for godly action was closer to what I had in mind. I could have at least asked more questions and gotten to know the man better before pushing in a talk on Christ-like behavior.

But even with our inevitable mistakes, the conversations must be had if we are going to love well. Neither burying hurts nor just letting them explode allows a relationship to grow and mature.

Take the risk. Commit to real love. Have the conversation.

Response:

  • What is my tendency? To pretend a hurt or offense didn’t happen or to blurt out a thoughtless response? What do I need to do to cultivate a habit of healthy conversations?
  • What is my understanding of love? How much room does it have for taking risks in talking about hard things?
  • Jesus, how can I learn to love with my conversations?

(Edited and reposted from February 5, 2024 “Choosing Hard Conversations”)

One Comment on “Choosing Risky Love

  1. Your article, “Choosing Risky Love,” offers a profound and courageous exploration of the complexities involved in confronting difficult conversations within relationships. Your personal narrative about addressing a fellow believer’s behavior exemplifies the vulnerability and strength required to uphold integrity and foster genuine connection. The practical guidance you provide—emphasizing thoughtful timing, self-examination, and a focus on reconciliation—serves as a valuable roadmap for anyone seeking to navigate the delicate balance between truth and grace. Thank you for illuminating the path toward deeper, more authentic relationships through the lens of courageous love.

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