How well do you recognize and own your stuff? I am not referring to coffee mugs and shirts and leftovers. I am talking about that invisible stuff that follows you everywhere you go. The stuff that makes the relationship arena – how shall I describe it – colorful.

For those unfamiliar with the term “stuff” in this context, let me explain starting with a very neutral, unassuming item. Imagine the following scenario involving two newlyweds, which is a real life example, though not mine. One person had spent their entire life in a home where everyone was expected to stack and organize their dirty dishes on the counter by the sink when they were done eating prior to the parent rinsing and placing them into the dishwasher. The other adult now living under the same roof with this dedicated dirty dish stacker had spent their entire life in a home where the parent insisted on having all the used dishes sprawled across the counter prior to being washed because she found it disgusting to having them placed one upon another. Until the present, these two young adults had never given a second thought to their innocent way of handling the after meal process. However, during their attempts to daily live in harmony under the same roof, they started to bump into each other’s “stuff”, creating opportunity for friction to occur. Will they make this non-issue a major source of contention or can they peacefully resolve this minor hiccup and live happily ever after…until they bump into the next box of stuff?

For a second mild example, consider a conservation I had.

A friend was trying to tell me something. However, when she said a particular name of someone she had met with, I was immediately picturing someone who caused me deep sorrow, who shares the same name. Simultaneously, as my heart felt sudden pain, my mind comprehended that the friend in front of me could not possibly be talking about my loss. But who was she talking about then? My brain tried to shove the first image out of my mind and race to figure out who else had that name. Thankfully, my memory quickly retrieved the correct person as I struggled to make sure I was hearing everything else my friend was saying while also hoping I had maintained my composure so only I would be aware of what had just happened because of “my stuff.”

Sometimes the impact of our stuff is much deeper than missing a few words in a conversation.

Several months after finishing individual counseling, I wanted a one-off session to get help with an issue that had popped up. The lady who had faithfully counseled me for months had moved away but had kindly given me another lady’s name at the counseling center if I ever needed anything. Disappointed at ending one counseling relationship, I had nevertheless been comforted knowing another lady, who had also been recommended by two other people I knew, would be there for me. For the first time I reached out to this highly recommended lady. However, instead of solving my problem, she informed me she was also moving away and had quit a couple weeks earlier. I could not believe it. I felt utterly alone and abandoned. I sobbed.

The logical part of me dared to gently speak into the moment and question my emotional part. Had I ever met this lady? No. Had I even communicated on any level at all with her? No. So, crying made no sense, the logical part concluded. The emotional part pushed back. Baffled, the logical component kept contemplating, trying to understand what in the world was going on. The huge amount of rejection and abandonment that had been experienced in the past came to mind. The seemingly over-reaction started making logical sense. The dots were connecting. The counselor’s unavailability had brushed up against the open and raw wound of rejection and abandonment. In other words, “my stuff.” Turning to God for help, He graciously came through once again and clearly reminded me I was not alone. God would never abandon me. He would faithfully send the necessary counsel, which He did. My stuff would not have the final say.

Unfortunately, sometimes in the moment I fail to recognize and own my stuff. One evening after supper my husband asked me to go on a walk with him. Our daily after supper walk to reconnect and strengthen our relationship has become a habit. While he went upstairs to put on his shoes, I cleaned up the kitchen. Once finished, I called up the stairs to see if he was ready. Not yet. I headed to the piano to play while I continued to wait. What I did not realize was the delay was touching that same open wound of rejection. Like someone with a physical wound, the threat of even lightly touching the area can make the person pull back in fear and self-protection even when there is no real danger. Invisible wounds are the same. Unsurprisingly, the evening walk went awry. Thankfully, God helped us through that hiccup, and our relationship was repaired.

Friendships, marriages, mentor relationships, work situations, and even interacting with a stranger at the store can lead us to bumping into each other’s stuff, causing emotions and thinking to go haywire. The moment our feathers get ruffled, we would be wise to take a deep breath and scan for stuff, discerning its influence and recalibrating as needed. This is not to say only one side has stuff, but all we can own is one side. Remembering other people have stuff too can be beneficial in recognizing someone’s reactions may have absolutely nothing to do with you. You may have unknowingly bumped into their stuff, and they have yet to recognize and own it, hence the fallout. Fight against taking other people’s actions personally. Filter life through the prism of stuff.

Psalm 68:19 is one of my favorite verses. “Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears our burden, the God who is our salvation. Selah.”

How well do you recognize and own your stuff? How successfully do you turn to God for help to bear it?