Because my grandfather was a magician (yes, you read that correctly), my sister and I used to be major fans of David Copperfield when we were growing up. We still have a number of VHS tapes (remember those?!) with recorded specials on them, and to identify which is which, each has a strip of tape with a written description of each special's most memorable trick. Among some of my favorites...
1. "Niagra Falls." David is strapped inside a buoyant container that is sent adrift toward (what else?) Niagra Falls. Mysteriously, he emerges from a flying helicopter soaking wet seconds after the container--which we all believed still had him in it--has tumbled mercilessly over the edge.
2. "The Dozen-Piece Trick." David cuts one of his dancers into a dozen pieces and puts her back together, all while rocking out to some awesome 80s tunes in his tapered, acid-washed jeans.
3. "Fires of Passion." David hangs upside down in a straightjacket in an amphitheatre in Caesar's Palace, dangling over flaming twelve-inch spikes. Magically, you watch as he unbinds himself and swings to safety minutes before the rope he's attached to falls into the flames.
For some reason, as a kid, my favorite trick and oft requested special to watch was what I had dubbed "The Exploding 'X.'" In this trick, David is trapped in a safe inside an abadoned building; he must escape and reemerge under a tarp marked with an "X" just yards away, all while the building explodes.
I think what was most fascinating to me was the way the building went down. No wrecking ball. No flames. All they used was one button--one measley little button--and with the touch of it, the building--solid and massive as it was--literally crumbled into dust.
I think of how much effort must have gone into the construction of the building that was frivolously brought to its knees. I can remember last year, as we watched the builders fashion together our tiny home, how intricate the work could be--packing the foundation into a solid sheet of rock; steadying the wood to create the frame; carefully laying brick after brick to help the structure stand, to keep it strong, to make it work.
It took effort. It took time. It took some mighty dedicated builders.
It's the same with the Christian walk, isn't it? Before a sound and useful structure (i.e. Christian) can exist, it must start with a solid Rock-like foundation (the Lord) and a supporting framework (a basic knowledge and understanding of the Word, what God has done for us, and the concept of salvation). Bells and whistles like paint color, furniture, and fancy fixtures (fruit of the Spirit, characteristics reflective of Christ) follow as the spiritual walk matures and gains depth.
But the bricks. The first line of defense. A support and protection of the inner workings of the structure.
Where do they come from?
I like to think of the bricks as encouragement and support from other believers. There's nothing quite like community and solid fellowship. They can help build one another up, and they can help provide strength against stromy attacks of the Enemy.
The more we encourage each other, the more bricks we have laid. The more bricks we have laid, the stronger we get.
But what happens when our motives, our words, and our choices far from build others up?
Years ago, when I was merely a teenager, I developed an enormous cyst on my right cheek (I have the scar to prove it). What started as a fairly small bump grew and grew until it took over half my cheek. It was purple. Ugly. And very hard to cover up.
My dermatologist told me it was the biggest one she had ever seen at the time. Score.
It made me insanely insecure. We tried treatment after treatment, ointment after ointment, shot after shot, and there it continued to sit, plaguing my face. One boy even asked if "that mark on my face" was because somebody was beating me up at home (no, but thanks for asking). Really, I did my absolute best to put it out of my head and not let it get to me.
My sweet friends at the time assured me often that "it wasn't a big deal," "it wasn't as noticeable as you think," and "it doesn't really matter." I believed them and drew a sense of strength and confidence from their steadfast encouragement.
But I'll never forget the day someone decided to hurl a wrecking ball.
A boy who had shown interest in me at the time was talking to me before Sunday School one morning, and in the midst of our conversation, he looked intensely at my right cheek. I had completely forgotten about it until I felt his disgusted stare burning a hole through my face.
Snidely, he remarked, "You know, you don't have enough makeup on your face to cover that thing up."
Growing hot with humiliation, I turned my flushed countenance from his view and attempted to blink away the tears that now clouded my vision. I walked away immediately, feeling ugly and horrible to look at, and I vowed from that moment on to make sure I always had enough makeup on to cover my flaws.
I can't recall a specific person or a specific bit of encouragement during that time; but I can recall the time, place, person, and words that involved an acute crumbling of my self-esteem.
No matter the multitude of positive things people may say, the few negative things tend to leech onto the soul.
You see, it takes a great deal of effort, time, and builders to make a structure strong; but all it takes is one button to detonate it--and all the bricks, the encouragement, and the strength can come crumbling to their knees.
So, ask yourself: what kind of person are you?
Do you seek to bring encouragement to others, to build them up? Are you a bricklayer?
Or are you a detonator?
Putting all of my feelings out there in the open for a number of people to see (and I'm perfectly aware that I am doing this) has certainly left me vulnerable to some detonation; some comments have really gotten me down.
But thankfully, the Lord has blessed me with a number of bricklayers. Just when I so very needed it, a sweet co-worker of mine approached me the other day and, completely unsolicited, told me, "I just wanted to let you know that I can tell you're getting better. I can really tell. I can't put my finger on it, but you just seem...lighter. Anyway, I just thought you should know."
She couldn't possibly have known how much my soul needed to hear those words. I lavished her with a million thanks and told her how much it meant to me to have that encouragement.
Though some of my structure had crumbled, she chose to start laying new bricks. And for that, sweet lady, I offer you my sincere, heartfelt gratitude. Bless you.
I'm not asking for you to be my bricklayers by any means; and I'm just as guilty of being a detonator as the next person. But please, friends, be mindful that even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant words can bring a person to her knees. The things you say have power.
It's up to you how you will use them.
I know, it takes time and effort and a great deal of dedication, but help the Architect complete His designs. You don't have to do it all yourself, but do one. Just one.
Lay a brick.
"Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing." ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:11
No comments:
Post a Comment