Author: Don McMinn

We all have mental tapes that play over and over in our minds. Memories of past events. Monologues that we continually speak to imaginary people. Some of the tapes are positive and give us peace and pleasure. Others replay challenging and troubling thoughts. 

I’m trying to discipline myself to never have the same thought twice unless it gives me pleasure or instruction. 

For instance, I allow myself unlimited playback of these fond memories:

• • Traveling — a picnic with Sarah and Mary near the top of the Swiss Alps. In Santorini, drinking Assyrtiko wine looking into the water-filled caldera. Sleeping on an overnight train from Budapest to Vienna.
  • Time with my grandchildren — burying treasure chests for Benjamin to find; swimming with Ben on the Queen Mary 2; rocking Claire to sleep.
  • Moments of deep worship — musical moments with the Stonebriar choir and orchestra; quiet moments alone in the woods.
  • Moments with Mary — celebrating New Year’s Eve in Times Square; having our first child; building our first house. 

I try to stop the mental tapes that are troubling or upsetting.

• • Interpersonal conflicts with family members or acquaintances 
  • Painful experiences from the past
  • Anxiety about the future
  • Conversations that were contentious 

Sometimes, when a negative tape is playing, I literally tap my finger on a hard object, as if I’m punching stop on a playback machine. This physical move helps me stop the tape and redirect my mind.  

The Apostle Paul put it this way; “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Philippians 4:8 NIV).

The expression “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me,” has its origins in the 1600s. The idea is found in a book written by Anthony Weldon in 1651 titled The Court and Character of King James. Weldon writes, “The Italians have a Proverb, ‘He that deceives me once, it’s his fault. He that deceives me twice, it’s my fault.’”

After being tricked once, we should learn from our mistakes and avoid being tricked in the same way again.

There are multiple iterations of this proverb: Fool me once…Hurt me once…Abuse me once…Forsake me once…it’s your fault. But if I allow you to do it again, I bear some responsibility. 

Titus 2:15 warns against being taken advantage of: “Do not let anyone despise you” (NIV). Another version reads, “See that no one disrespects you.” In Paul’s letter to Titus, he gives his young mentee permission to defend himself, and to reject abuse and mistreatment. This is the Word of the Lord.

I know this verse has to be balanced with Jesus’ teaching as recorded in Matthew 5: “Whosoever gives you a blow on your right cheek, turn to him the other,” and, “Blessed are you when men revile you, and persecute you, and falsely say all manner of evil things against you for my sake.” I’ll defer to theologians regarding how these seemingly disparate verses can be reconciled, but for now, let’s focus on Paul’s advice to Timothy.

There are times in our lives when we need to resist those who mistreat us. Often the only way to stop a bully is to stand up to him and push back. Just ignoring him and tolerating the abuse will empower him and encourage him to continue. When being mistreated, it’s okay to say, “That’s enough. I will no longer tolerate the way you’re treating me.” 

We tend to think bullying occurs most often to children in school or on the playground. But adults are susceptible as well. Sometimes bullying involves serious offenses like emotional or physical abuse. But more subtle forms should also be addressed. For instance, I have a friend who was always late to every appointment we had, sometimes as much as 20 minutes. I finally confronted him, we talked it out, and the issue was resolved.

Are you subject to ongoing abuse, either mild or severe? If so consider removing yourself from the situation or at least have a frank talk with the perpetuator. 

My granddaughter—six-month-old Claire Elise McMinn—lives in our home.

Since babies can’t talk, the only way they communicate when something is amiss is to cry. When Claire cries, she needs something. She’s either hungry, needs a clean diaper, needs a nap (or doesn’t want one), wants to be held, or doesn’t like the position she’s in. It’s really quite simple. We intuit what she’s crying about, meet that need, and she stops crying. 

Needs met = happy. Needs unmet = unhappy.

As adults, our needs are more nuanced. Like infants, we have physical needs for food, sleep, and shelter, but we also have emotional needs such as attention, encouragement, support, acceptance, comfort, respect, appreciation, and security. When these needs are met we feel satisfied and blessed; when they’re not, we’re unhappy. It’s really quite simple.

As adults, we have a more sophisticated way to communicate our neediness than infants do—we can verbalize our needs to a friend or family member. But sometimes, even when we communicate our needs in a mature, productive manner we are ignored and neglected and that hurts. If the neglect persists we begin to express our neediness in unproductive ways: we clam up, slam cabinets, become passive-aggressive, say things we shouldn’t, or walk away. 

The solution to this dilemma is straightforward. Realize that every human has emotional needs that can only be met by another human. Proactively meet people’s needs, particularly your family members and close friends. Acknowledge your own neediness and allow others to meet your needs. When emotional needs are properly expressed and lovingly met, we feel loved.

Remember this formula: Needs met = happy; needs unmet = unhappy. I double-dog-dare you to be proactive in meeting other people’s emotional needs and notice the marvelous results. 

When I was a young minister, I often felt awkward making hospital visits because I didn’t know what to say. I asked my senior pastor’s advice and he said, “Don, you don’t need to say much. The most important thing is the ministry of your presence. Just being there is enough.”

Never underestimate the power of being present with someone, particularly when they realize you don’t have to be there.

Two members of my staff spend many weekends watching their kids play sports, sometimes 8-10 hours a day. Sometimes in the rain or cold. Their presence is a profound act of love and devotion.

In his must-read book, How to Know a Person, political writer David Brooks shares this story: “I recently read about a professor named Nancy Abernathy who was teaching first-year med students when her husband, at age fifty, died of a heart attack while cross-country skiing. With some difficulty, she managed to make it through the semester and carried on with her teaching. One day she mentioned to the class that she was dreading teaching the same course the next year, because each year, during one of the first sessions of the course, she asks everybody to bring in family photos so they can get to know one another. She wasn’t sure if she could share a photo of her late husband during that session without weeping.

“The course ended. Summer came and went, and fall arrived and, with it, the day she dreaded. The professor entered the lecture hall, full of trepidation, and sensed something strange. The room was too full. Sitting there, along with her current class, were the second-year students, the ones who had taken her class the year before. They had come simply to lend their presence during this hard session. They knew what she needed, and didn’t need to offer anything more.” 

“This is compassion,” Abernathy later remarked. “A simple human connection between the one who suffers and one who would heal.” (Brooks, pgs 52-53)

I want to do more of this. I want to sense when someone feels the pain of being alone and alleviate their discomfort with my presence. Not to teach or coach, but simply to be with them.