Emily’s Toolbox
“Thanks for choosing the Lebanon Starbucks, this is “Emily”- what’s your name?”
Her tone was bright, kind, and warm. She is waiting to greet me as I pull up for my grande chai tea latte. Her gaze and body language were maligned with her salutation. She had diverted glances and frantic gestures… like she was lost all of a sudden. She’s distressed and weary. Something has happened (or has been happening) in her life that I know nothing about. “Emily” is a friend I have yet to know. She does her best to remain pleasant but the tension inside her is humming at a rate that’s vacillating tears to her eyes.
She looks to be about twenty years old or so. Shiny wispy-fine black hair falls from under her work visor. She’s fair-skinned, with an oversized red and black tie-dyed shirt tucked in under her green coffee-splashed apron. Tattoos canvas both arms, her ears and septum host a battalion of silver rings, and under the shade of her visor, a flash of frosted blue eyes smoked in yesterday’s black liner.
The presence of her co-worker, now beside her offering support, is just enough for her bright and kind voice to break into a quivering whisper that she “just can’t do it.” Her headset is removed in unison with her breathy response and she disappears into the back of the shop choking down sobs escaping from her small frame.
Natural curiosity begins to speculate and narrate possible scenarios that could have led to this moment in “Emily’s” day and what her life may have looked like leading up to this vicarious grief.
Is she equipped to deal with whatever/whoever her antagonist may be?
Does she know her worth so she can stand her ground in confidence?
Does she know the hope for tomorrow that she can cling to get through today?
Does she know how to harness this heartbreak to be refined for endurance through the trials ahead?
Does she know this very circumstance can be shared to help someone like her heal on deep visceral levels?
Does she even want to know?
The plethora of possible responses to these questions a girl like “Emily” or a situation like hers may receive is immeasurable.
What would it look like for her to be equipped, know her worth, experience hope, or share her experiences?
Each of us is working with a different metaphorical toolbox. “Emily” also has her own tools she’s bringing to the table. Some she may not be familiar with. Some she may not want to use or even know she needs to use them. We can only build though, with what we have. The finished product will either be solid and steady, lopsided and rickety or somewhere in between depending on the tools in each person’s toolbox. Resting on assumptions that the other person is bringing a specific tool we think they need to possess rather than realizing we have a tool they may need to borrow could halt the process or seriously slow progress.
How could we help “Emily” discover the answers to the above questions if we were given the opportunity to sit with her and hear more of her story?
Know what’s in your toolbox: what do you have to work with? (Your skill sets, strengths, giftings, and even resources) Don’t give outside your personal capacity. Healthy boundaries are loving yourself AND those you walk with.
Make time and gift time. If you’re committed to helping someone discover truths, you also need to be committed to the time it requires to help them get there.
Be patient as they learn to identify and use their tools: it won’t serve either of you to hover over their shoulder telling them how to wield the tool.
Make sure they are willing to show up as much as (if not more than) you to put in the sweat equity (hard work)- you can’t want it more than they do.
Affirm, encourage, and congratulate them regularly. This will feel cyclical as their journey of discovery ebbs and flows.
Challenge them to teach or share the tools they have become proficient in using with others. This adds a deeper level of competency and continued building.
