The Culture Of Dump

I don't remember how old I was the first time I went to the city dump; I just know I've probably been back hundreds of times in my short 27 years. When I was a child, my dad was a roofer and a trip to the dump was a daily occurrence if not more often. Despite the questionable smell that emanated from the dump, I always enjoyed our trips there because I got to ride in my dad's big red dump truck and because he would let me pull the lever that would make the bed rise and dump all of the shingles into the massive pile of waste. As a teenager it was even more fun because he let me drive that enormous truck and we would get a big kick out of all the strange looks received from fellow drivers.

I would imagine most people don't ever give pause to think about the dump until they do a remodel or are involved in tree trimming. I would also venture to guess that most people, unless they live right by one, have no idea where their nearest dump is located. If you think about it, it really isn't that surprising because we live in a 'dump culture'. A dump culture, if you will, is one in which no thought is given to the waste we dispose of every day. I'm not just talking about physical waste but emotional waste as well. One of the most common forms of emotional dumping I have ever seen is the anxiety dump.

A few months ago, a well-known man in the church approached me just before service started and began questioning my methodology for something I was doing. The more he spoke, the more abrasive he became, until finally I felt like he was just asking me questions to test my knowledge and somehow try to trick me. It was annoying and embarrassing because he did all of this in front of an audience of three people. After he left I was in such a foul mood that when my husband returned from changing my son's diaper he asked me what was wrong and I launched into the story in great detail and dramatics and was cut short by the beginning of our service. Just telling my husband about what happened made me feel worlds better and by the time service was over I was completely over the moment and had moved on but little did I know that my 'anxiety dump' was brewing something fierce in my husband. It wasn't until after church that I looked up to see my husband beelining across the room in true 'man on a mission' fashion that I turned to my mom and said, "What is Travis doing?" I followed the site line for his path and realized he was headed straight for the man who had spoken to me before church. I immediately rushed over to my husband and said, "What do you think you are doing?" he replied, "I am gonna give him a piece of my mind! No one talks to my wife like that and I am going to make sure he never does it again!" I grabbed the hand of my shaking husband and pulled him aside; thanking him for wanting to come to my rescue but explaining to him that what I had done to him (anxiety dump) was unfair and uncalled for.

We are all guilty of the anxiety dump at one time or another because we care not what happens to the person on the receiving end and are more concerned with alleviating our own fears or uncomfortable moments. I get a lot of anxiety dumped on me in this business and it used to really eat away at my happiness, still does sometimes, but I am fortunate to be in the presence of several great men who have mastered the art of the anxiety 'block' and who point the anxiety back its rightful owner instead of taking it on their own shoulders. It is not to say that a person can't be compassionate or listen to the problems of someone dealing with a great deal of anxiety, it just means that the person on the receiving end must learn not to take ownership of misplaced anxiety. May it be so in my life.

An anxious heart weighs a man down,
but a kind word cheers him up.
Proverbs 12:25

Your thoughts?