Guest Writer: Don Follis
Leaving the Land of the Numb
I grew up in Northwestern Kansas--the land of numb--where everyone was fine: families, teachers, pastors, dogs, and cats. Everyone! Before my Grandmother Follis's funeral, my dad stood in the church foyer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He was attired in his signature outfit--tweed jacket, white shirt, and Levi jeans--both heavily starched--and handmade alligator-skin boots he had fitted in Dallas. He was a man's man.
Walking up to him, I put my arm around him and said, "Dad, how are you feeling?"
"Just fine, son. How are you?” I smiled and said, "I'm just fine, Dad." You can be sad when your mother dies. You can be relieved if she suffered, but you can't be fine. "Fine," my wife says to me, "is a grade of sandpaper." Like my dad, I have mostly been "Just Fine." But I realized that Jesus isn't only the meek and mild figure so often presented in paintings and liked by everyone.
Being liked was not Jesus' highest value. Like a golden retriever, I always want everyone to be my friend. Not Jesus. And there's the rub. I can't have it both ways--helping others the way I want to while expecting to be liked by everyone. My wife reminds me: "If being liked is your highest value, especially when you have a chance to speak truth to power, you have the wrong value."
Every day I try to be fully present, allowing myself to feel whatever painful and positive emotions come my way. Some days I laugh; some days I cry. It is the only way to live. Jesus is a hero to me because he was fully present emotionally. Not once was he ever "Just fine."
Learning to be fully present has been a long journey. I tell my story of learning to connect my emotional and spiritual lives in my new memoir: Leaving The Land of Numb, now available on Amazon.
Don Follis
Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/