I’ll never forget the first time a movie ever made me cry. It was 2004, and my mom, sister, and I had gone to the theater to watch the new movie, A Cinderella Story, starring Hilary Duff. The movie was building and building on the teen romance of two star-crossed lovers who were in different worlds, and whose relationship had blossomed over anonymous email. The main character, Sam, comes from a tragic home life, complete with a horrible step mom, and step sisters, and an awful diner job, but she has found hope in her emails between her and the guy who ends up being the wealthy star of the football team.
From low rise jeans to flip phones, A Cinderella Story has really become a time capsule of the era. For several minutes toward the end of the movie, my sister and mom had left to use the bathroom. I didn’t have to go, and I didn’t want to miss the movie, so I sat alone in the dark theater as the movie hit its first climactic moment. I watched as Sam was publicly humiliated at a pep rally and her emails were read aloud by the head cheerleader. The worst part is that her beloved watched the whole thing and never stood up for her. As they looked at each other from across the field, the music began to swell, Sam started to cry, and so did I. My poor mom returned to her 7 year old in a puddle of thick tears.
“It’s just so sad!” I kept declaring. The scenes kept playing out, and of course this fairytale gets a happy ending. I remember my mom looking over at me and saying, “See! It ends happy! It’s okay!” I just nodded my head through lingering sniffles.
For the first time that I can remember I had experienced one of my life long, key personality traits. As Hilary Duff’s character looked at old framed photos of her and her dad and she cried into her pillow, I could feel every ounce of her pain as my own.
I’m a feeler. I feel things deeply. All of the things. The highs. The lows. The everything else.
I feel other people’s feelings deeply. My natural instinct is to carry them as my own burden. Picture the last time you were angry, now take that feeling and multiply it by the number of angry people around you that you interact with during the day. I feel my own circumstantial anger and theirs. That’s a lot of angry, my friends, and it doesn’t stop with anger. I feel the sad emotions too. Those are much more easily heightened than the angry ones for me.
If you know me, it’s possible that at this point you are asking yourself, “Makaela how do you survive doing the work you do?” and the answer to that question is, “I don’t know. Jesus mostly.”
You don't have to work in church work to understand this. This is just a people business thing. People come with feelings. I tend to take those feelings on. Because of that there have been really dark seasons. I know I have My Savior. I know I have the hope of eternity in my heart. But I’m also human, and it gets heavy. There have been weeks when I have had to defend my ministry to people threatening to leave the church, I had to have phone conversations involving someone’s questions about salvation and the afterlife because their loved one was actively dying, and pray for a friend who experienced two deaths in one week.
Oh wait. That was this week. And to be honest, that’s a pretty typical work week. You just have to add in meetings, emails, social media posts, and me working through my own personal stuff.
I think the person who said, “People who love what they do won’t work a day in their life,” was full of crap. I love my job. I am incredibly passionate about what I do. But some days it’s really hard, and to be successful, I have to work really really hard at it. I love what I do, but I feel it. Hard. Processing it all and not letting it way me down for too long takes hard work.
Maybe that sounds like a really pessimistic view of church work, but no one told me about the difficult parts when I first accepted the call. I want this blog to be an honest, authentic space, and this is part of it. Typically, when you tell a fellow Christian that you are excited to jump into vocational ministry, you are met with excitement and rejoicing. Don’t get me wrong. That’s awesome. And necessary. But no one ever told me that my heart would shatter into a thousand pieces almost daily while working in this field, and just when I’ve tacky glued and duct taped the scraps I could gather back into a shape resembling a heart, someone else walks away from our church feeling hurt, and it shatters all over again. Maybe that sounds dramatic, but my emotions feel dramatic often. That’s just a part of who I am.
I would think that if you sign up to be a homicide detective, you’re prepared for heartache or numb to it. I didn’t expect my emotions would be this engaged all the time in my line of work. I recognize that I was naive and still am, but I think a warning would have been nice. Although, I was so excited about the future that I know a warning wouldn’t have slowed me down. This is the work I was created for, but no one thought to mention that the feelings would be a lot.
My emotions are intense, and they can become a weakness when I’m not paying attention or taking responsibility for them. My emotions can be reasons that I tear myself down, hurt people I love, or make irrational decisions.
However, I also think my intense emotions are my super power. If you often find yourself having complicated or heavy emotions, but that idea doesn’t make any sense, here’s what I mean: It’s easy for me to sit and listen to someone who is struggling because I know how valuable that is when I am the struggling person. I can read people fairly easily because I can feel what they feel quickly, and I understand the importance of unconditional compassion, love, and grace. When it comes to making leadership decisions, I get to be the voice around the table that represents the feelers of our church and community. That’s an honor for me. I get to give people like me a voice.
I want my heart to break for the things that break God’s heart because I desperately want to be more like Him. Feeling so deeply motivates me to keep pushing, to keep fighting everyday to bring light to the dark spaces. When someone is hurting, my heart automatically starts hurting with them. I don’t have to stretch to experience empathy. This means that all I ever want is to make the world a happier, safer, warmer, more loving place to live. If harnessed in a healthy way, my emotions can be a positive, impactful force in that.
Feelings don't have to be negative. Truly, they give me insight on what things matter most to me, what things God wants changed, and how human everyone really is. Sure in hindsight, it's funny when I have mascara tears rolling down my face while reading a novel about fairies, but I know that putting yourself in someone else's shoes doesn't come naturally for everyone. Emotions can be really powerful things. When you begin to process them and maybe even appreciate them, you not only have more sympathy for others, but what you put out into the world can be beautiful. Sometimes the best art comes from raw emotion. When harnessed, deep feelings can motivate and captivate. Don't ever believe the lie that your emotions aren't worth paying attention to. In fact, they are usually bright flashing signs telling you something important. That's not something to dismiss or be afraid of.
If you are a feeler, I see you. I get it. Here’s to a life of untangling our feelings and healing our wounds, so that what breaks our heart can change the world instead of leaving us in the hopeless dark. I believe in us, and I believe we will be working on this the rest of our lives. I believe united feelers have the potential to change the world forever.
Also, I’m here if you ever want to watch a Pixar movie and have a good, long cry.
You are truly and deeply loved.
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