Loving the Difficult

Yesterday in small group we discussed a particular real-life sticky situation. Unbeknownst to me, a certain man has been attending the group who is a bit, shall we say, difficult. He has mental health issues and a criminal history fueled by his inability to handle anger. I've never met him, but judging from the conversation last night, he's a leech, attaching to one person and sucking all the good-will, care and love right out of them.

He arrived at small group last night angry and toxic, so much so that the leader asked him to leave. He did, but he wasn't happy about it.

The question we discussed last night is one that I've cognitively wrestled with a lot in my interaction with the world.

How do you love someone who is just fine sucking everything out of you 

and leaving you a shriveled up shell?

I'm pretty sure it has something to do with healthy boundaries but I'm not very good at it. Healthy, graceful boundaries. My boundaries are tough, like leather. A situation that forces me to put up boundaries to protect myself from becoming a shriveled up bean pod takes the grace right out of me. I end up being hard, black and white, suspicious and pessimistic. But the only other option is for me to get walked all over.

Since I'm not a fan of being walked all over OR of having tough, leathery boundaries, the option I'm left with is avoidance. Avoid the needy leeches, avoid people with messy lives. I surround myself instead with people who make me feel good, who talk like me and walk like me, who challenge me to be a better person.

And that's not bad... but there needs to be balance. When I encounter needy people the first thing I shouldn't think is how fast I can run away, but instead take a moment to struggle through it.

There's never one right answer and I hate that. I wish someone would give me a foolproof manual on how to love others.