We are all in relationship with ourselves and each other all the time. Sometimes how we relate can take a turn for the worse and then navigating that or discerning what to do can be our challenge. I feel it’s always a gift.

Many years ago I deliberately took power walks around my neighborhood with my golden retriever dog. I found myself constantly walking the same pathways with another woman and her red setter dog. We began chatting and walking together. It started really well.

Her son became friends with mine and she became my morning buddy. One day she asked me about my work. I told her I loved what I did that was physically, emotionally, mentally healing, and she began to relate my daily missions with her understanding of the bible she read every day.

I wasn’t familiar with the New Testament, having been raised in Judaic Old Testament understandings, and her translating my experiences to passages she knew well became a fascinating subject. She enjoyed her sharing and I learned a lot, while I felt honored to have someone to tell my sweet and often amazing stories to.

She asked to borrow my mum’s Judaic books to learn about how similar or different we were.

I thought that was cool and readily provided a couple of books to her.

Within a week of her returning the books she had read, she asked me if I accepted her Christianity as I was supposed to. I immediately told her that my relationship with my faith was a private matter and not to be considered for acceptance or denial by my World or her.

She immediately grew silent, informing me she would use a Judaic ritual to rip a piece of her clothing to represent the grief of not being able to turn my faith toward hers.

I walked away bewildered, with a full realization that she had just killed off our ability to relate.

In Judaic tradition, a person tears the cloth when someone passes, to represent the end of the physical relationship.

Our ability to relate to each other had just died.

I began walking a different path and a few weeks passed.

I missed her wisdom.

I missed the sharing.

I knew it had completed. I allowed it to be.

She rang me.  

She asked me what happened. She didn’t understand why I disappeared. I told her she had intentionally and physically ripped me away. She had used the Judaic tradition she just learned to kill off the physical relationship we had developed.

 She understood the depth of her behavior only then, and openly wept. She deeply apologized and I told her that it was alright.

We had both learned so much in the dance of relating, even though our time together had completed so dramatically.

Relating doesn’t have to last a lifetime.

Sometimes it is for a reason or a season.

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Love & Blessings,

Ruth

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