Hiding in Plain Sight

It's hard not to get annoyed when that boy in my class is literally spinning around on his knees on the carpet while everyone else is sitting quietly and listening to the lesson.  Or when he's still doing his puzzle, even though I've called him to line up four times.  He's in trouble almost every day lately.  He doesn't know why he's acting this way.  I don't really know why, either.  But I do know that his parents split up recently, and that he's coping with it the only way his little four-year-old brain knows how.  He doesn't talk about it, but in his own way, he's screaming that he needs to be heard and understood.

In dealing with this kid's situation, I've been thinking about the people around me and how many of them might not be spinning on their knees during story time but spinning out of control, helpless to stop life's unrelenting circumstances. I wonder how many of them are concealing deep sadness or anger, aching to tell their stories but petrified by the fear that there is no one who will truly "get it."
I've known people to commit suicide before, and typical comments after such instances are, "I just never realized he was that unhappy" or, "She always seemed okay."  People have ways of "hiding in plain sight."  It's easy to think, "I would tell someone if I was that miserable," but would you?  Would I?  The darkest, most ugly parts of ourselves are the ones that we tuck away, cover up, and bury so deeply that no one else can find them.  I'd like to think that I'm pretty honest a majority of the time, but there are still pieces of me that I'm unwilling to share with anyone, even with those who love me the most.  When it comes down to it, I'm afraid that no one will hear me, that someone might judge, that someone else might laugh, and mostly, that no one will care.

While the tendency to hide is undoubtedly part of the human condition, I also wonder how many unheard stories would get told if there were more people who practiced the lost art of just listening.  I find that I'm generally more encouraged by a friend's silence than by a multitude of words which amount to little more than platitudes, quick fixes, or cliches.

I guess I'm writing this because I'm daily realizing that everyone is fighting a hard battle.  I often have a short fuse with people.  To that little boy in my class, I sometimes just want to yell, "Seriously, stop acting like that.  You're driving me crazy."  When talking with the friend who is making destructive decisions because her boyfriend just broke up with her, I have to resist the urge to shake her and say, "You're being a complete fool.  Just stop."  The situation is never as easy as "just stop."  There is always so much more under the surface than people are willing to or feel comfortable with sharing.

So I'm challenging you today, but mostly I'm challenging myself, to have some grace with people.  Smile a little more than you think is necessary.  Say less.  Listen more.  Remember the times when someone has shown you kindness.  Mostly, consider everything about a person before jumping to a hasty conclusion.  The outward signs of a perfect life do not always reflect the inward state of being.