Separate But Together: The Lesson of the Ambulance

A couple days ago, a lifelong friend offered this observation via email: “Ever since we were kids, you’ve had such a jealousy-free outlook. You trust your husband, you don’t compete with your siblings, you don’t feel threatened by other people’s friendships or beauty or success.”

Though I’m sure its not 100% as neat and tidy as all that (we all have our moments), for the most part, her observations are in the realm of true:

A lot of other things may be falling apart across my life, but…

• My husband and I have never had a single fight over jealousy. 

• My brothers and I have never failed to celebrate each other’s successes.

• And my two best friends have other really close friends besides me–a fact which has never been an issue. Not even once.

“Where do you think that came from?” My friend asked.

Of course, no one has ever asked me this before, so I just wing it (as is usually my downfall).

I don’t know that there is a singular answer.

It has to do with people in my life being unselfish and trustworthy, with being taught to live in faith and not fear…but it also brought to mind this story.

When I was nineteen years old, a retired couple once told me their son had been injured in a traffic accident when he was just a toddler. They were following the ambulance carrying their little boy when the emergency vehicle suddenly pulled to the side of the road and stopped.

“We thought he had died.” The dad told me, his expression blanking just as I imagine it had then.

“We just prayed  then,” The mom interjected, “and said ‘God, we know he never belonged to us. He was always a separate being whose life belonged to you. If we have to give him back to you, now, it will be hard, but we will thank you for the part of his life we got to share.'”

Years later, now married, now with my own fragile eight-month old son I’d sometimes like to coat with bubble-wrap, the story still returns to me. Fortunately, not in ambulance-chasing moments (so far), but at ordinary crossroads where I might be tempted to cross the line of loving another person to controlling another person.

People aren’t mine. 
They don’t belong to me.

Even those I am deeply tied to–my son, my husband, close friends–I can love them, I can be bold with  my affections and openly express my desire to share life with them, but I must choose to hold on loosely.
Open-handedly.
In a way that shows we are all separate beings.

When I forget this (which happens-lets be real), I go back to the ambulance story…which is not a hard thing to do since one is always passing ambulances.

Its not always easy.

Does it mean people will express themselves through hairstyles, clothing or other accessories I wouldn’t be caught dead in? Yes, yes it does. (After all, some people insist on wearing pink…blah)

Does it mean people will like movies, music and other things I’m not drawn to? Yep. It means that too. (What?! You don’t watch every blockbuster cartoon that hits the big screen?)

Does it mean they may never like my hobbies and I may never like theirs? Uh-huh. (So my husband is always going to watch ESPN and I’m always going to be lost in a book.)

Does it mean people might be friends with others, even those I wouldn’t choose for them? Heck yeah it does. (Sorry, but the girl obsessed with conserving rain water just didn’t hit it off with me…)

Does it mean people will say things that make me uncomfortable? Check there too.
(Darn. So I can’t write them a script to read…)

But it also means I don’t have to take on all those pressures of trying to control everyone in my life. I don’t have to count up all the times people make variant choices, to track when they succeed or make friends or hang out with other people. (That kinda stuff belongs in middle school where everyone is hyped up on Pixy Sticks and Mountain Dew to have the energy for that.)

Instead, I get to busy myself with the big-enough pressure of just being me without screwing up too badly. And I can be happy for the others whose lives God lets me share in–for their successes, for their new endeavors, for the places they find love and goodness, for the people they choose to share it with.

And hope that somewhere inside of their separateness, there is a place where we can find goodness and love together and the rest of the world will be happy for us too. :)

(Fine print: My son is only eight months old, people. I’ve got a lot to learn in my journey to safeguard him without infringing on the little self God made him to be. Stay tuned.)