Authors: Star Jones Reynolds
“Yes, it makes me feel better,”
I shot back.
I went to sleep that night and I did not sleep at all—not one wink of sleep the entire night. I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit fighting with me that entire night because your conscience either excuses you or accuses you, and my conscience was not excusing me that night. Next morning, I got up and confessed on national television that I had allowed somebody to take me away from the person I know I am, and no matter how vicious somebody is to me, it is my job to reflect God’s shining face. And I hadn’t.
I made a mistake. Look, I know that I am not perfect. I know that I say and do things that cause God to shake his head, but I always try. On that day, I didn’t try. I promised myself that I would not do that ever again. And I haven’t.
But now I’m free from that man’s despicable arrows. Like me, don’t like me, say mean things, don’t say mean things—I don’t care because it doesn’t have an impact on my spirit anymore. I’m past it. And you know what? Because I live in a free country, and the radio host needs to accept my personal choices, I now firmly believe I also need to accept that man’s choice to belittle me. And as much as I despise him, if someone tried to stop his freedom of speech, I’d be
out there marching for his right to speak. He’s vulgar, he’s mean, but he’s American.
So that’s how you get your mirror to reflect God’s shining face.
No one ever said it would be easy.
Relationships
I’ve been talking to God for a long time now, and we’ve developed a pattern of conversation; I say
we’ve
developed because I’m certain God hears, and responds. In fact, my relationship with God is sort of a template for my relationship with everyone else. If I can get it right with God, I sure ought to be able to get it right with anyone I care about. So, I follow the same guidelines I use when I talk to God. I actually have some tenseness with a girlfriend, and our relationship has changed forever.
First of all, I have to be honest with myself and ask myself what I did to cause the friction. The hardest thing in the world is to shine the light on yourself, okay? It’s rare that friction is the fault of only one person, so after I assessed my role in the matter, I scheduled some time to talk to my friend—and admitted what
I
did before I addressed the whole issue and how sad it made me feel.
This is sort of how you go to God and ask for forgiveness for something or relief from the tension that’s overwhelming. The first thing you do is acknowledge what you did wrong. When you talk to God, you don’t start going, “Oh, God, please bless me with this new job.” If it’s a new job that you are seeking, you say, “God, you know, I have not always done the best with the resources that you have provided me. I’ve made poor decisions in my finances. I’ve allowed my desire for pretty things to overcome my desire to take care of my long-term needs, but I finally put myself in such a position that I have gotten my credit in order. I have another opportunity, a second chance, and this is a blessing. Please bless me again and help me to learn from my mistakes.”
Same thing with my friend. After I assess what I’ve done, I go to that friend in the same vein I would go to God asking God’s forgiveness. I’ll have to say something to her like, “You know, it’s clear that our relationship has changed, and
I’ve asked myself what I’ve done to add to that change. I’m sorry that I haven’t been calling, and I’m sorry that I’ve put you off, and I’m sorry that I haven’t valued what you had to offer to this relationship. And I need you to know that I don’t put it all on you. I have to recognize that I had something to do with it, that I, not just you, own our tension. But together, we have to figure out how I can not add to the problem any more and you won’t add to the problem—and we can be as we were before.”
Most of us pray privately. We can talk to God privately, even without words. But when it comes to other people, you have to get those words out. Okay, call it a conversation, but whatever you call it, you should both kind of pray together that you can restore your friendship. And then, you can move on.
Sometimes, I’m sorry to tell you, moving on means that the relationship is changed, and maybe even over. But change is not bad. Change, based on knowledge and honesty with each other, is like a prayer.
Here’s an extraordinary bonus: when you quiet your mind, besides hearing God, you can also hear the needs of others. If you spend all your time whimpering, “I’m bored. My life’s not complete. Nobody loves me. I don’t have a man,” you’re whining and nobody loves a whiner. And you are deaf to the suffering around you—a bad thing.
We’re all tempted to bemoan our fate, but now when I do that, I force myself to think, “Somebody lost her child in Iraq today. There’s a woman down in Aruba searching for her daughter. There’s a young black woman from Spartanburg, South Carolina, who’s been missing for a year—her parents go to bed every night wondering what happened to their child. Someone’s going to bed hungry tonight.”
If you shut your mouth for a moment when you feel overwhelmed, you’ll find a way to help someone who has a real tragedy. Guess what? That will make you feel immensely better. That’s the essence of spirituality.
Forgiveness
If we practice an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,
soon the whole world will be blind and toothless.
MAHATMA GANDHI
The weak never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong.
MAHATMA GANDHI
Always forgive your enemies. Nothing annoys them more.
OSCAR WILDE
I believe all of the above. It’s important to be able to forgive because holding on to grievances and anger causes grief and frustration. That’s absolutely an absolute. Seems to me, though, we don’t forgive someone because the person we’re forgiving necessarily deserves it. Forgiveness is also not excusing someone or validating his point of view. It’s not even a favor you do for someone who’s hurt you (so she can do it again). Being able to let the pain of betrayal and misunderstanding go is a gift we give to ourselves—not to the person who’s been obnoxious. Forgiving another brings the same blessing we get when God forgives us.
But guess what? You know how they say, “Forgive and forget”? Well, they’re wrong. Don’t even try to forget—not going to happen, no matter what they tell you. But forgiveness? That’s another matter.
Being able to forgive makes us feel generous and powerful. We’re no longer victims who’ve been hurt; now we’re aggressively forgiving. We open ourselves up to healing. And it works especially well if we can take some responsibility, some ownership of what happened that was bad.
No question, though, one of the hardest things in the world to do is to forgive. Still, as a Christian, I have to say to myself, “There’s nothing anybody did to me any worse than what they did to Christ.” So, if he can forgive, so can Star.
The Psalms tell us that Christ’s willingness to forgive is universal, and if we expect forgiveness, we must be ready to forgive.
Okay—I can just hear you asking, “So, Star—can you forgive that certain radio personality?”
Already done. Believe it. If I couldn’t forgive him, I couldn’t do what I do every day. He’s absolutely forgiven because now I know he’s irrelevant. Somebody who means nothing to me is an easy forgive—he’s just not present in my real life, he’s not going to take any food off my table. My mama’s still gonna live in her house. My friends are still gonna come visit. My dog, Pinky, and I are still gonna fool around. My husband is still gonna come home and say, “Baby, what you got to eat?” every day.
But what happens when someone you deeply care for hurts you? See, if I could no longer trust Al, that would be hard to forgive. I would try, but I can’t swear I’d succeed. What if Al did something really bad, like running around with another woman?
I think it would kill my unconditional trust for him.
But you know what? I feel God would help me out with that one. That’s why Al and I had so many sessions of premarital counseling before we walked down the aisle, just to be able to recognize that loved ones make mistakes. I’m not telling you that Al has free rein to do something that’s a violation of our covenant. But I know that our marriage is strong enough to sustain me from being irreparably crushed by something he says or does.
If he fooled around, nothing would ever be the same, it’s true. Our marriage would be changed forever. But the question is, would I be able to live with that change if he were truly sorry? Could I forgive him? Well, I think my spiritual commitment provides me with a comfortable cashmere sweater like Al’s that allows me to adapt. If he did something really terrible, it would not be what I hoped or dreamed for, but maybe I could forgive even though I’d never forget.
I sure pray Al uses the same level of commitment to the covenant as I do.
Now, if there were to come a time when the man himself changed, that would be very different. That would disappoint me irrevocably. The man I know wouldn’t easily breach his covenant. But he won’t. Here’s why:
Al’s a big old baby. He’d be the first one to tell you, “Nobody knows how to take care of me the way my wife takes care of me. What am I gonna do with those little hoochies out there—they don’t even know how I like my shirts.”
One night, he traveled all day to get back to me and our home in the Hamptons. I was at a meeting when he arrived, but I’d stopped off earlier to buy him something for dinner. When I got home, he was asleep.
“Baby, I told you to stay up and wait for me,” I whispered.
“You were taking too long, Star,” he muttered back from a deep dream.
“I got dinner for you,” I whispered.
He said, “You got dinner for me? At this hour?”
“Of course I got dinner for you—you have to eat. Don’t I know you wouldn’t stop and get your own dinner?”
“Thank you, baby,” he said.
How could I not forgive that man if he made a mistake? How could he not forgive me? But you have to build up the trust and the love. It takes time. And to be really honest, in the bad times, you just pray your spiritual center holds to help you find your way home again. With dinner.
Listen: God knows I’m not an expert on finding a spiritual center in anyone else’s life. I can only tell you what works for me.
I hope you find your own way to forgiving a wrong done to you. Please remember, we all try to aspire to something higher, and when we succeed, it’s just such a glorious victory. It’s the last step in making you ready to share your life with another. It’s the first step to perfect peace in your heart.
Do We Have to Be Perfect
to Find That Perfect Peace?
Oh, sure—that’s how I got to be so spiritual, because I’m so perfect. Tell that to my girlfriends.
I know I’m not there yet. I have so many weaknesses that block the way to that kind of spiritual completeness. For example, I know God is still working on me getting out of my own way. For every blessing I have, for every gift I’ve been
given, I tend to second-guess it. I don’t stand comfortably in a space that God has created for me. I’ll declare that I want and need a special something to be really happy, and then when it comes, I’ll question it—do I deserve this? Is it right I should have it? Is this going to be what I ultimately want, or am I going to be disappointed in my choice? Should I wait for something better to come along?
That’s a real flaw, this second-guessing of my blessings.
It’s also very hard for me to focus on character, rather than reputation. I have to work hard not to be concerned with what others think of me. I have to be more focused on who I am and whether or not I am that person I proclaim to be. This huge character flaw in me—one which is the opposite of a spiritual approach to life—makes me far too needy for applause. It’s hard when you’re in show business not to care, but I can just hear God saying to me, “You don’t need to work that hard for approval; I’ve already given you everything you need. It’s yours. Stand in that space.”
I keep trying.
God’s Box: How Do You Pray?
For me, the all-controlling one, it’s very hard to take my hands off the steering wheel. It’s my nature to handle the details, all by myself. But think of it: if you ask God for help and then try to manipulate, deal, arrange everything yourself—why the heck are you asking God for help?
I figured out a way to stop myself. I started to envisage a box—a plain box, like a shoebox. In my mind, I called it the Something for God to Do box. When I desperately needed help or a blessing, I’d pray to God—then put the problem in God’s box.
“This is now in the Something for God to Do box,” I’d remind myself. “He’s handling this one.” Then, I’d step back.
Of course, you have to be willing to take the direction from God, when it comes—even if you don’t like what you’re hearing from above. I find that inevitably, God’s box will empty out—problems solved.