The Holy Man on the Bluff
Brené Brown gives this advice about facing difficult situations: Don’t shrink. Don’t puff up. Stand your holy ground. Here’s a story that illustrates all three, and might be helpful if you sense some social challenges as you gather with others this Thanksgiving.
Ten years ago, we moved to a new house surrounded by water and woods. I discovered a beautiful place for morning prayer. I climbed to this bluff on a vacant lot near my house, which overlooked the Catawba River as it entered the Lake Norman basin. I would sit on a log, admire the view, and read the prayers and psalms from my breviary. My prayer would begin in darkness and end with the sun rising in the east, nature’s way of saying, “Amen!”
My dog Zoey would come. She wasn’t one to sit for long and would sniff around in the woods. One morning, Zoey cornered a possum. The possum “puffed up” while Zoey barked continuously. I cut my prayer short, directed Zoey to follow me, and started walking home.
There were just a few houses on my wooded road. I hadn’t had a chance to meet many of the neighbors. One obviously didn’t like the barking. When I passed his house, he ran out of his front door. He was just wearing boxers and a T-shirt. He let me know how I need to keep my *$@!# dog quiet. In the dark, with a near stranger accosting me, I was a little intimidated. I slunk home and decided to find a different place for my early morning prayer.
A different neighbor, the one nearest to the vacant lot, asked me a few weeks later why I stopped reading my bible on that vacant lot. He’d noticed. I told him about my experience. He smiled. He knew the other neighbor well. “Dude, I can’t believe him. You’re walking around with your bible, praying. And he jumps you?!?” We laughed.
I saw ‘nice neighbor’ yesterday, one of the few times since the incident with the ‘boxer-wearing neighbor’ ten years ago. He had purchased the adjacent lot and began clearing the trees I told him the view of the water is spectacular.
He said, “I put a bench on the bluff overlooking the water.” Nice. He then surprised me. “I was thinking of you. Feel free to come back anytime to pray.” Ten years later, he still remembered.
He said he appreciated someone praying that close to his house. “I like having a holy man around.” The description of me took me by surprise and may take a little getting used to. But I understand the truth in it.
The larger lesson is that I sometimes feel I need to keep my faith hidden and shrink from any public demonstration. If I practice too openly, I could be attacked. My other neighbor reminded me of the opposite. Others appreciate having a man who’s not going to shrink or puff up, but has the presence to ‘stand his holy ground’.
It’s something to keep in mind as you visit family and friends this Thanksgiving.
