It’s Only a Rock (but it’s so much more)

51 years and four days after my younger sister Debra was stillborn, I visited her grave for the third time in five years.  I’m not sure I’d been there beforehand in any capacity.

On the previous two occasions, I had struggled to locate the actual grave plot as not all the plots are marked, and Debbie’s wasn’t.  It’s how things were done in the remote Pilbara region in the early 1970s.  I think vandalism was the concern in that day.

Through piecing together some information I received from my father after my mother died in 2022, I was able to locate Debbie’s grave.  The moment is captured in this video I took on a brief break taken during a work trip as I travelled by car from Port Hedland to Karratha.  The rock I refer to in the video that marks Debbie’s grave isn’t the rock pictured, but they are strangely similarly shaped from memory.  

One of the things that sets the beautiful Pilbara region apart is its rocks.  There are trillions of them—huge ones that nobody could lift.  

The rock pictured is just a rock.  But it’s not just any old rock.  It was a prominent rock atop my sister’s grave.  And I like to think it was there a long time—who knows, maybe many or nearly all those days since Debbie was placed there in late September 1973.

Having this rock in my possession is like having a piece of my sister—something so proximal to where her little physical body lay for over half a century.

When we lose our loved ones they’re gone forever but they’re never closer in our hearts.  This is why grief is so intractably hard!  We can no longer have what we would give anything to hold for five-minutes more.  

Dad and I shared a lunch where I talked about the little rock I took from Debbie’s grave.  He recounted the day she was buried, and it was little more than a burial with 4 or perhaps 5 people present, Dad, a couple close to Mum and Dad, and those there in an official capacity—town undertaker.  We talked about this, and many other related things, including his pride for his sons, my two brothers and me.  Dad talked about a song that was very important to Mum—James Blunt’s, “Monsters”.  We talked intimately about what this means to us as father and son.  It also reminded me of this (“A closer relationship with Dad… through loss”) that I wrote in 2022 before Mum died.  Mum introduced us to the song on January 19, 2020.  

To have these moments means the world to me.  These are eternal moments.  They’re eternal because without them, eternity separates us upon death.  We never imagine quite how much we will miss our loved ones until they’re truly gone.

To have their words, their sentiments, and for them to have ours, these are ‘possessions’ that transcend every physical possession known to existence.  These are ‘possessions’ of soul and spirit, for they surpass anything else we can otherwise own.

These are moments so many families and individuals don’t get.  Either the time isn’t made or taken, or people are too scared to get vulnerable, or people don’t even think about it until it’s too late, there just isn’t the opportunity.  And the truth is, we all have regrets, because there are always moments we could have had but didn’t get or take.

This is why I love being a pastor and chaplain.  Today I got to visit a man who’s dying.  It was his 75th birthday.  His whole family doubted he would make it to this milestone.  To be invited into the inner sanctum of their family, bedside with him, is absolutely the most sacred thing, a divine encounter without any doubt.

Time is a very strange dimension.  Most of life can seem boring or a drag.  But once time’s up, it’s gone.  Forever.  It might just be a rock, but this rock is a reminder of the one I never got to meet, who, by God’s grace, is now reunited with the matriarch of our family—her own mother.  

Is there someone you can tell today, that you’re proud of them, that you love them, that you believe in them?  I’ve got four children I’m proud of, love, and believe in.  I would want them to know.  Telling them once isn’t enough.  We need to be constantly told and encouraged.  Take the time.  Take the opportunity.

I urge you before it’s too late!

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken

“The mistake most of us make is that we build our homes in other people in the hope that they will deem us worthy of being welcomed inside.  We feel so abandoned and empty when people leave, because we’ve invested so much of ourselves in them.”
― Najwa Zebian

Enmeshment is the relational phenomenon where a person or both people in a relationship lose themselves in the other person.  Boundaries and emotionality are too permeable and pliable, and there is no solid sense of self in one or both.  The self is lost in the other, and where there is no solid sense of self, there is little that can be made as a strength for the relationship.

One of the commonest things I talk about in relationship or couples counselling is the three important dynamics that are well conveyed by Ecclesiastes 4:12 — “A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”

It takes two solidly attached people to build that third strand.  This is not so much the glue that holds them together, because the individuals in their personal solidity don’t need to be glued to anything or anyone — they’re autonomous, free persons (or should be).  The third strand is the strength they share from the autonomy each one brings.

But many people who end up in committed relationships are not autonomous or free.  They otherwise crave another person or thing to sink their identity into; another person to complete them.  It’s a trap any of us can fall into, mind you, especially when we’re otherwise challenged by hardships that test our sense of personhood and identity.  

None of us feels secure
in our world all the time.
But it is our commitment to re-establish
that inner safety that sets us apart.

The issue within relationships built on the shifting sands of losing ourselves in the other is it leaves us on tenuous ground.  It’s too big a burden for the other to carry, and it’s a constant vulnerability for the person who has plunged their personhood into another person — in making their home in them.  Besides, such vulnerability leaves us vulnerable to their whims, and this is dangerous if they’re not the person they could otherwise be in and for the relationship.

This is where things become unstuck, ironically when one brings pressure to bear on the other to commit.  This typically occurs when ‘the love wears off’ — code for the relationship has gone from the romance phase to the power struggle phase, which is normal as part of the 5 stages of relationships.  Tensions build when the person who has lost themselves in the other becomes especially needy.

We all have needs and it’s fair
in relationships to have some of our needs
met by our partner some of the time,
just not all our needs all the time. 

The opposite is also true:
It’s not realistic for us to demand that we
fulfil all our partner’s needs all the time. 

There must be some sense of solidity in each person in the relationship so they’re capable of holding themselves by themselves when necessary.  When we cannot hold ourselves by ourselves it leads to that feeling of being excruciatingly alone.

Back to the autonomy that should be present in every person in every relationship.  It’s a good sign that your partner views you as an autonomous person with the capacity for your own ideas, thoughts, and personhood.  

What you think and say should matter. 
So should what they think and say.  

The best couples hold tensions well and can most certainly, and respectfully, agree to disagree.  It’s a relational red flag when one is not allowed their view or must fall into lockstep with the views of their partner.  When this is a pattern, it’s abuse.

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.  The first two strands combine to create the third, but those two strands must of themselves have sufficient selfhood and strength to offer to the other so both can come together in weaving the third strand.  The third strand is interdependent on both partners.

For Christian couples, that third strand is seen as a God-strand, and certainly makes for a strength of unity between the two.  I’d argue that there is no greater vision for coupled partnership than a commitment to Christ that sees both partners committed to their individual personhood in Christ such that they serve, and submit to, the other. 

Mutual submission is the goal,
hearts that delight in the other. 

Partnership makes coupled relationships work

Many people who have come to me for Christian marriage or couples counselling have come because there is an issue with the term “partner”.  Their problems emanate from having a partner who is a partner in the noun-sense, but not a partner in the verb-sense.  

They have a partner who has the appearance of a
partner, but they aren’t actually a partner.

Partnership has an equality about it in that partners to a partnership communicate and relate with one another in a way that is mutually pleasing and mutually beneficial.  

Both feel they have equivalent power and say in the relationship, from the daily decisions to the life plans that they share.  Both share in a worthwhile and sustaining relationship.  

If there is hardship,
they both share in it. 
If there is something to rejoice,
they both rejoice.

Sharing is a key premise in partnerships.  Sharing is about both having an equal stake in the flow and action of the relationship.  Both work equivalently and both enjoy the benefits of their work.  There isn’t an imbalance in either the work done or the spoils of that work.  Neither partner is consistently advantaged or disadvantaged in any patterned way over the other.

Partners in the verb-sense of the word do genuinely feel that their marriage relationship adds to their life, whereas partners only in the noun-sense of the word find the partnership detracts from their life.  

The former feel loved through the receipt of effort from their partner who is working hard for the partnership.  The latter, however, feel resentful that too much of the weight of the load of the relationship rests with them, like having another child or pet in the house to take care of.

The concept of marriage is one of equality in that the two have become one flesh (Genesis 2:24) and the good practical effect of this is supposed to be that both work for the other.

It doesn’t always occur, however, for there are many who do the bare minimum and therefore miss vital opportunities to love their partner.  And that’s the main point!  Love isn’t only a feeling, it’s a verb, it’s a ‘doing’ word.  To love our partner we reach toward them in attempts to outdo them in kindness, patience, grace, gentleness, and other practicalities that ‘speak’ love to the other.  

Love has a way of being seen, felt,
and experienced by the recipient.

It’s not the person doing the loving
who dictates the effect of their love –
it’s the recipient.

This is an important differentiation in the partners of the verb-sense.  They do their love selflessly and their partner feels their love.  Partners of the noun-sense do their love often from selfish motives to be noticed and appreciated and their partners feel missed and annoyed.  Noun-sense partners want recognition and kudos for the most basic of acts that their verb-sense partners are always doing.

My strong encouragement for all partnered relationships is that they be equally-yoked, which is coupled together as in oxen who plough evenly the ground of life together.  

Verb-sense partner coupled with
verb-sense partner, that’s the ideal.

They do their work together and get
gratification working together as a team.