Mean Girls and Trench People: How do we Handle Crisis and Tragedy?

Mean Girls

Kate was four the first time she asked me why girls are mean.

We were in the car on the way home from her babysitter’s house.  We had just gone around the corner by the house that’s always for sale and never finished.  Like everyday, she was recounting the events of her day when she paused for a second before breaking the silence by asking me, “Mom, why are girls mean?”

Crickets.

More crickets.

Defaulting to a complete parenting cliche, I responded with the “we’re all mean sometimes” terrible cop-out of an answer.  I’m sure our conversation continued, but I can’t remember what we even talked about because my mind was reeling with the fact that, at four years old, Kate had already observed girls being mean and had already started to question why it has to be this way.  

I could and can relate.

I’ve never been good with girls.  

I didn’t have close girlfriends in elementary school. My interests were never “girly,” and I’ve never really felt like I fit with girls.  During recess, when they were practicing cheers, I was playing football with the boys. On the weekends, when they were having sleepovers, I was riding go karts or at the races with my family.  When they were experimenting with makeup, I was trying to figure out the easiest way to get my hair in a ponytail everyday. When they were discovering fashion, I was rocking tshirts and jeans. When they were the damsels in distress, I was rescuing myself.  When they were whispering about the boys, I was being “one of the boys.”

Girls hurt each other and hung on to the hurt for years.

Boys hurt each other and were fine by the next recess.

I preferred the boys.

I wish I could tell you that I’ve overcome my shortcomings and become a girl’s girl in my adult life, but that would be a lie.  While I have put away the football, traded in my tshirts and jeans, purchased a curling iron and straightener, and do have a drawerful of makeup, I still struggle with most female friendships.  

Because, like Kate, I find myself asking, “why are girls mean?”

Crisis

There’s something about a crisis that brings out the best and worst people.  I spent the first 30 years of my life virtually crisis-free. Life was pretty simple and going smoothly.  And, you know what? When my friends, family, and loved ones were going through crisis, I didn’t know how to respond.  

So I did the worst possible thing:  I didn’t respond.

I didn’t say anything.  

I didn’t show up.  

I disappeared and defaulted to the Christian cliche of, “I’m praying for you.”

Crisis brought out the worst in me.

And, then, when I was 30, my parents had a terrible motorcycle accident, and I was on the other side of crisis.  For the first time in my life, I was on the other side of the silence, of the pity, of the sympathetic looks, and the empty “I’m praying for you” statements.

Crisis brought out the worst in people.

But, through the silence, and the pity, the sympathetic looks and the empty statements, came the few people who shine during crisis:  the people who show up with food without asking your permission, the people who don’t just tell you one time they’re praying for you but pray for you daily and remind you you are loved, the people who mow your grass while you’re stuck at the hospital, the people who sit with you in the Trauma Unit without having to say anything, the people who insist you leave the hospital and get a coffee with them, the people who buy you chocolate and make sure you are actually eating, the people who ask you how you are and don’t stop until you give you an answer.  

Crisis brought out the best in people.

I wish I could say that experiencing this changed me instantly and forever.  

I wish I could say that experiencing this made crisis bring out the best in me.  

To be honest, though, I still struggled with how to love people in crisis.

And then the bottom fell out.

I found myself again in the midst of crisis a year ago, and once again I was amazed at how crisis brings out the worst in people and how crisis brings out the best in people.  And, here’s what I’ve learned:

Some people just can’t do it.  

Some people do not have the capacity to be with you in the midst of the tragedy or crisis, and, most likely, that has nothing to do with you.  Being with you in your crisis is too painful for them, or it brings back too many memories, or they can’t get beyond the judgment in order to get to the love.  They just can’t.

And you can’t control that.

Some people just want the dirt.  
Some people will chase you down in the middle of your tragedy and crisis with the illusion of care.  Quickly, though, you’ll see they just want the dirt and the details. They don’t actually care about you as a person; they care about the details of the tragedy.  They live for the details. They live for the gossip. And, too often, they do this in the name of Jesus, under the guise of “just wanting to know what they should be praying for.”  

And you can’t control that.

Some people want to fix you.  
Some people will come to you in your crisis and tragedy out of what they think is love.  They want to fix you or your problem. They want to control the situation and the narrative for you.  They typically mean well, but they will never understand empathy.

And you can’t control that.

Some people will crawl into the trenches with you.  
These, these are your people.  These are the people who don’t have the answers, but they don’t claim to.  These are the people who understand that there is no easy fix or solution to your crisis or your tragedy, and yet they still love you and hold space for you.  These are the people who crawl down into the muck with you and wait there for the storms to pass. These are the people who love you, diligently pray for you, and treat you like an equal human being regardless of what you are going through.  Judgment has no place here, only love.

And you can’t control that.

We all have the potential to be a mean girl:

Even though I felt like it was a cop-out at the time, I think there was some truth in my response to Kate’s question.  We are all mean sometimes. People and situations bring out the worst in us, causing each of us to have the potential to become that mean girl.  And, while we can’t control other people, we can control ourselves. We can control how we treat people everyday and especially when they are in the midst of crisis or tragedy.  

I was talking to one of my trench people a few weeks ago about all of this. Actually, I was apologizing for not being in the trenches with her when she was in the midst of her own crisis.  I was apologizing for my lack of empathy during her own nightmare.

I didn’t get it then.  

I didn’t understand the trenches.

I was a mean girl.

I was selfish.

I wasn’t good with girls.   

She should have been the one asking, “why are girls mean?” because of my responses.

But, I get it now.  I’ll never be one of those people who just can’t do it again; I won’t be one of those people who dig for the dirt anymore, and I won’t be a fixer in the face of tragedy again.  

I’ll be a trench person.

I’ll sit in the trenches with you in your muck.

I’ll hold space for you.

I’ll love you.

The Trenches

The trenches aren’t always a comfortable place.  In fact, it’s pretty messy down there. It takes time and patience and perseverance to make it through the trenches: your own trenches or someone else’s.  I hope, friends, that when you find yourself in the trenches, you’ll look for the trench people that God sends to you. And, I hope that when you come across someone else who is stuck in the trenches that you’ll climb down in there with them and hold space for them.  

I don't think it was by accident or coincidence that Jesus's last commandment to his disciples before he was crucified was to "love each other just as much as I have loved you. For when you demonstrate the same love I have for you by loving one another, everyone will know that you’re my true followers.” (John 13:34-35 TPT)  Jesus was literally sitting at his last supper, had washed his disciples disgustingly dirty feed, had just called out Judas's betrayal, and had just dealt with Peter's endless questions!  His response: love each other.  Jesus knew the challenges the disciples were about to face.  He knew what they would be facing after his death and his resurrection, and his response was essentially to get down there in the trenches with each other, with others, and love each other.  There are no asterisks, no footnotes, no exceptions.  Just love.  

Friends, I pray that the next time you are faced with tragedy or crisis, you can find your trench people.  And, I hope that the next time you see someone down in the trenches, you will climb down in there with them, hold space for them, and show them the love Jesus intended.