“I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve life. For the famine has been in the land these two years, and there are yet five years in which there will be neither plowing nor harvest. And God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God.”

Genesis 45:4-8

One summer night when I was in college, I drove 12 hours through the night from Annapolis, Maryland to Martha’s Vineyard to surprise my boyfriend. He was vacationing with his family and had mentioned several times in our phone calls that he wanted me to join them. It was a long drive through torrential rain. Thankfully very few cars were on the road and there is coffee, though shitty still coffee, at gas stations. When I finally arrived the next afternoon in MV, my boyfriend said he couldn’t come pick me up from the dock because he was playing golf with a mutual friend of ours. I. Lost. It. Imagine the whitest happiest place on earth and smack in the middle of that joy is a sobbing Asian girl. I did not give a f*ck who heard me, who saw me and where I was. I was so angry and hurt.

Today while I was journalling that memory rushed into my mind. It often does when I need an example of how I had a shit boyfriend. As I was reminiscing on that time, it hit me that I had crashed my boyfriend’s summer vacation. I had crashed his family’s — a family that did not allow us to sleep in the same room whenever I stayed over at their house — long standing vacation. I sprung all of me — dramatic, expectant, pouty — onto his quiet calm vacation. Um. Oh. Ooops. A revelation a decade later isn’t too late, right?

Are we drowning in our side of a story because we are hurt and we have expectations? Are we unable to see the other perspective because one, we can’t, like Joseph pre-famine or two, because we don’t want to see our culpability? It is easier to put on the armor and view life through our hurt and our needs. I am not saying to be a door mat and never consider your own perspective. What I am encouraging myself and you to do is expand the story. Expand the plot so that you’re not the only main character. No good story revolves around one player, and your beautiful tapestry of a narrative involves everyone, their hurts and their needs as well.

Prayer: God show me the balance between perspective and presence.

Creative: Where are you wrestling between mind & heart, rationale & gut? Let them have a conversation.

Brave: What’s one thing you can say no to that you’re afraid to turn away?

Generous: Tell someone their testimony of redemption means a lot to you.