By: Stephanie Ellison

What are you looking for?

When you look at the people around you, are you searching for what is wrong, or are you willing to look for what is good?

There is so much noise in this world. Everyone is talking, defending, reacting, correcting, comparing, and choosing sides. We are constantly being told what to fear, who to distrust, and why someone else is the problem.

But what might happen if we turned down the noise long enough to look at the person standing right in front of us?

What if we chose to believe the best about one another?

My heart grieves when people misunderstand the challenges I bring to the table. I know I am not always easy to understand. My experiences have shaped how I see the world. My story has given me strong convictions, deep emotions, and questions that do not always have simple answers.

I also understand that I may not have been meant for every table. That is exactly why I built my own. At my table, you do not have to think exactly like I do to belong. You do not have to share every conviction, understand every part of my story, or agree with every word I say.

If there are not enough chairs, please bring one. Pull it up. Sit down. Stay awhile.

Tell me what you believe and why it matters to you. Help me understand what shaped your perspective. I want to hear about the experiences that formed your convictions, even when they are different from mine. Different does not have to mean dangerous. Disagreement does not have to become disrespect.

I would love to see a world where we look for the good in people instead of focusing so much on where they fail or fail to fit in certain boxes. A world where we remain curious long enough to discover the stories behind their reactions, the wounds beneath their walls, and the fear hiding underneath their anger.

I believe there is greatness in you. Not the kind of greatness that requires you to shrink so someone else can feel bigger. Not the kind that demands power at another person’s expense. Not the kind that speaks over everyone else and calls it courage. 

I believe in the kind of greatness that does not shrink, but also does not harm. The kind that holds personal convictions while still honoring the convictions of others. The kind that can listen without feeling threatened. The kind that responds with patience instead of immediately reacting with anger.

Anger is not wrong. Trauma taught me, sometimes anger tells us that something important has been hurt, threatened, or violated. But I’ve had to learn, when I feel angry, I try to pause and ask myself…What am I afraid of? Who hurt me? What really happened here? Am I responding to the person in front of me, or am I reacting to something that happened long before they arrived?

Those are not easy questions. Sometimes the answer reveals that someone else has hurt me. Other times, I realize I have hurt myself by isolating myself.  I have had many moments of sitting pridefully inside my own perspective unwilling to see the hurt my words or actions have caused.  Sometimes it’s wounding only I can choose to work on and as much as I would love for it to be someone else’s fault, I know deep down I have so much pain to unravel. Taking it out on others makes it worse. 

When I only listen to people who agree with me, I may feel safer, but I do not necessarily become wiser. When I convince myself that my experience is the only experience worth considering, I lose the opportunity to learn. When I stop seeing the humanity in another person, I do more harm than good, to them and to myself.

We do not have to abandon our convictions to make room for compassion. We do not have to silence our voices to hear someone else’s. We do not have to agree on everything to recognize the dignity, value, and potential in one another.

So I keep coming back to the same question…What are we looking for?

If we are looking for reasons to be offended, we will find them. If we are looking for failure, we will find it. If we are looking for proof that someone is unworthy, wrong, or beyond understanding, we will probably find something we can use.

But what if we look for goodness? What if we look for courage?  What if we look for the person behind the position, the wound beneath the reaction, and the story behind the struggle?

What if we look for places where healing could begin? 

I am looking for peace. Not a shallow peace that avoids hard conversations or pretends that everything is fine. I am looking for a peace strong enough to sit at the table with disagreement. A peace secure enough to remain kind. A peace that tells the truth without using truth as a weapon.

I am looking for the kind of peace that begins when we turn down the noise, look into another person’s eyes, and remember there is greatness in you.

There is humanity in me. There is room at this table for both of us. So bring a chair. Stay awhile. I want to hear you.