Request Denied

About four weeks before my mom passed away, I got a letter in the mail informing me that I had been placed in a pool of potential jurors for a federal court case that would be going to trial in three months. As I read the instructions indicating what my responsibilities were regarding the selection process, I was immediately annoyed. Now before I receive a thousand messages telling me that I should be ashamed for not being a good citizen and showing adequate respect for our country's judicial system, please allow me to explain. I've had to report several times over the last 20 years to be interviewed as a juror for various county court cases ... I got a letter in the mail, filled out the requested form and showed up at the courthouse on the appointed date. I wasn't chosen for any of the trials, but had I been, I was quite willing to perform my civic duty. The federal court jury summons, however, was a whole different beast ... I was assigned a number and a color, and I had to call each Friday to see if I would need to report on the following Monday for the selection process. It was a royal pain in the butt for several reasons ... I was stretched really thin at work at the time ... I still had two teenagers living at home ... and Mom had just moved to my town from Tennessee two weeks prior. Remembering to make a phone call before 4 p.m. each Friday and wondering how I would possibly keep all the balls in the air should I have to serve was beyond stressful.

Mom passed on a Wednesday evening, so it was Friday before my kids and I began the long journey back to Tennessee to lay Mom to rest next to my dad. Amazingly, I remembered to call the jury line as we traveled, and when the automated menu gave me the option to request removal from the list, I immediately pressed the corresponding number, followed all the prompts and pleaded my case for dismissal. Allow me to say here that I hate, hate, hate those stupid automated phone systems ... I truly miss the days of being able to dial a number and talk to a real live person. At any rate, after answering a series of questions and pressing some additional numbers, a computerized monotone male voice says, "Request denied." I remember thinking as I clicked off the call that if my mom dying only two short days before wasn't grounds to release me from being interviewed to serve on a jury panel, nothing would be. I also remember saying out loud to my three sleeping children, "Request denied? Seriously? Request denied? You've got to be kidding me ... request denied?" 

It was a couple of weeks after we returned from Mom's funeral that my Friday call to the court resulted in me having to appear along with what seemed like a thousand other people to be questioned by the judge and attorneys about the upcoming case to determine if I would be selected to serve. I'll spare you the details of the day, but when it was finally my turn to speak, I burst into tears. The judge asked me what was wrong, I told her about Mom and that I had requested to be dismissed. She immediately turned to the woman in charge of the potential juror group and asked why I was made to appear, looked at me with sympathy, and said, "I'm sorry for your loss. Request granted. You are dismissed and may exit the courtroom immediately." I cried all the way home that day, so very grateful for the overwhelming compassion and kindness demonstrated to me by the judge.

I've been thinking a lot about the words "request denied" for a while now ... words I never really heard much before, at least not in the context of them being spoken directly to me to tell me no in response to something I've asked for. I hear them quite often these days, though, and as is so very often the case, I think perhaps I'm at least beginning to understand the humongous lesson contained within those two words. I know this will be tough, if not impossible, for many of you to believe, but it's true nonetheless ... sometimes, I try to get out of doing things that are difficult for me to do. I'm not talking about things like tough projects at work or rigorous physical tasks ... those kinds of things I tackle head-on with gusto, determined to meet any deadline or goal set before me. Nope, it's the emotional stuff ... having to open up and make myself vulnerable to my life-saving head doctor, talk about things I've never talked to anyone about, say words that are so very hard to say, trust a friend with things I've kept hidden away most of my life ... that's the stuff that causes me to try every week to negotiate my way out of doing or saying things that are hard for me, or to beg and plead to be let off easy, or to ask over and over and over again, "Can I be done now?"

But here's the thing ... here's what I'm beginning to understand, and what is finally sinking into my brain. Sometimes ... maybe a lot of times ... OK, most of the time ... when it comes to knowing what is best for me in regard to overcoming the self-hate that has existed within me my whole life, learning how to accept who I am and believe that God loves me and isn't finished with me just yet, I'm not the best one to decide how to most effectively accomplish those very necessary, life-saving tasks. God in His infinite wisdom and mercy has placed certain people in my life who aren't willing to back down or give up on their commitment to helping me be OK ... people who won't let me weasel out of the commitment I've made to do the hard stuff ... people who refuse to let me take the easy way out. And my part ... my part is to trust that their motives, their judgment, their decisions and their guidance are all working together for my good.

You know what I think? I think maybe time may prove the words "Request denied" to be two of the most important, most healing, most life-restoring ever.