Bear·ing [ˈberiNG] NOUN –
1. a person’s composure, based on assumptions about his or her character and heritage. (synonyms: posture · comportment · carriage)
2. the level to which something can be tolerated. (synonym: endurance)
Two different types of bearing. But, I think, intimately related.
Our lives are affected by our families in ways we don’t even realize, for good or for bad. We are each either limited or actualized by the huge impact of what they did or didn’t teach us, and by what their treatment either inspired in us, or didn’t. And if we were treated poorly, the insult is often simply accepted, since it may go unnoticed or require too much to act against directly.
How many people do not stand up to love the world because they didn’t feel loved themselves? How can this common struggle be countered when their lack of belief in you convinced you not to seek greater knowledge, not to risk failure, and not to show unconditional love? Can one bear insults, accusations, even wounds well, and move forward with loving actions without some such intimate source of support?
I don’t need to belabor this. And I do think counseling is important, as is the long process of grieving serious offenses and working toward reconciliation wherever possible. But I believe the truth is, yes we can learn to bear these things. And if we truly want to improve our bearing, we must push past this common limitation and reach out in love anyway, wherever we can.
I believe this is how we learn to bear our scars well. I believe this is what bearing means. And as we apply our talents to whatever God gave us to become, we should think about how we’re coming to better understand these two definitions of bearing.
P.S. I’m currently learning a lot about “bearing” from many friends and mentors: F. Buechner (in The Remarkable Ordinary), Dan Allender (in his online course on overcoming “Orphan, Widow, & Stranger syndrome”), Hillary McBride’s work, as well as D. Benner (in The Gift of Being Yourself). Highly recommended for anyone looking to heal from repressed struggles.
This is powerful, Mick. I believe what you’ve shared here has the potential to be a pivotal moment for writers who are holding back.
Thank you.
Blessings ~ Wendy Mac
So much of my hope in writing this one, Wendy—if not others, then at least helping myself when I’ve forgotten again. Thank you for seeing my heart.
This is a deep water message Mick for writers to take us down into. You make those endless depths seem less scary. For so many of us it is hard hard work. Thank you for that. And for your honesty about forgetfulness. Maybe that forgetting is the personal playtime we need to buckle down and write the hard stuff —like taking off a heavy backpack it lightens our steps.