We have rights. We all have rights. Under the law. The constitution calls them inalienable rights, meaning that no one has the right to trample on our rights. In our current culture they seem to be carried to extremes sometimes, as though people have the right to never be unhappy or never work for an icky boss or never be tolerant of a struggling family member. As though they have a perfect right to be happy, whatever that means, no matter how much others have to put up with about them
Don't I have a right to have my rights?
Yes. But is that the only question? How about this one: Do I have the right to not insist on my rights? I think so. Webster's Dictionary even has a word for it: forbearance. And why would I ever do that?
Let me tell you about Gladys, a woman I worked closely with many years ago. She was the most cantankerous, difficult woman I met, maybe in all my life. It was necessary for us to work at side-by-side desks as support for a team of managers. It was a very political office and we each had the ear and backing of various ranking people and needed to work together since neither of us could afford to quit and there were no other jobs within the agency to apply for. She was so difficult that if I said, "Good morning, Gladys." she replied there was nothing good about it and to leave her alone. Yet, if I just kept my face buried in my work when she came in she denounced me as rude to not speak. I was decades younger than I am now and I just had no idea how to make things better.
Then she had to have surgery and, raised as I was, I felt honor bound to make a very short visit to the hospital taking a handful of paperback books wrapped in a bow to help her pass the boring hours of a hospital stay. I wound up staying for over an hour and learned that, although it was her birthday (something I did not know) neither husband, nor son nor daughter had come to visit. I also learned that because her mother and sister had died of cancer she was truly terrified of what news the doctors might bring.
Now, I can not report that we became the best of friends or even that our working relationship improved substantially, but I learned something very important. That under the skin of the most irritating of people can lie the greatest chasm of sorry, regret and true terror. And I knew that I was grateful to not have to live as she did. I hope I softened towards her; I think I did. I have certainly never forgotten her.
So I am sometimes able to forbear my rights, because the needs of others are greater, or even might be greater, or maybe getting my props is just not so important that I am willing to give up my own peace of mind to insist on it.
Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. Colossians 3:13
Don't I have a right to have my rights?
Yes. But is that the only question? How about this one: Do I have the right to not insist on my rights? I think so. Webster's Dictionary even has a word for it: forbearance. And why would I ever do that?
Let me tell you about Gladys, a woman I worked closely with many years ago. She was the most cantankerous, difficult woman I met, maybe in all my life. It was necessary for us to work at side-by-side desks as support for a team of managers. It was a very political office and we each had the ear and backing of various ranking people and needed to work together since neither of us could afford to quit and there were no other jobs within the agency to apply for. She was so difficult that if I said, "Good morning, Gladys." she replied there was nothing good about it and to leave her alone. Yet, if I just kept my face buried in my work when she came in she denounced me as rude to not speak. I was decades younger than I am now and I just had no idea how to make things better.
Then she had to have surgery and, raised as I was, I felt honor bound to make a very short visit to the hospital taking a handful of paperback books wrapped in a bow to help her pass the boring hours of a hospital stay. I wound up staying for over an hour and learned that, although it was her birthday (something I did not know) neither husband, nor son nor daughter had come to visit. I also learned that because her mother and sister had died of cancer she was truly terrified of what news the doctors might bring.
Now, I can not report that we became the best of friends or even that our working relationship improved substantially, but I learned something very important. That under the skin of the most irritating of people can lie the greatest chasm of sorry, regret and true terror. And I knew that I was grateful to not have to live as she did. I hope I softened towards her; I think I did. I have certainly never forgotten her.
So I am sometimes able to forbear my rights, because the needs of others are greater, or even might be greater, or maybe getting my props is just not so important that I am willing to give up my own peace of mind to insist on it.
Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. Colossians 3:13
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