Bad Debt
When my father-in-law suddenly moved from his modest home to a skilled nursing home we scooped the contents of his stuffed drawers into a plastic bag for safe keeping and later review. Several years passed and we came across quite an assortment of financial matters that should have been handled long before we crammed that lowly bag full of what had seemed like unimportant papers.
We weren't in much danger of the mail-order companies pursuing him for the countless magazines and DVDs he had ordered, but those ancient medical invoices looked critical. When I called the billing offices of several specialists I learned that his account had been written off long ago, as bad debt.
"But I have the money to pay you now," I countered.
"That would take us re-opening his account and it's less trouble to just keep it all 'as is,'" the office manager replied, "it's not on the books anymore."
There was no convincing the staff and knowing that his bills were left unpaid felt very incomplete to me.
When I think about this it causes me to remember how my bestest friend, Catherine, wrote off my "bad debt" back in seventh grade. Like every other female in the school I was caught up in the British Invasion but, instead of the Beatles, my object of affection was the Dave Clark Five. DC5 on PBS
My fellow aficionados--but not Cathy--gabbed constantly about the band, imitated them by wearing dorky, velvety caps in the halls between classes and, worst of all, talking in fake British accents. After this humiliating phase ended I asked Cathy how she put up with me acting like that, for so long.
Her answer was quick and simple, "Karenen, you're my bestest friend. I'm not going to stop being friends with you because of something like that." That was it; friendship rules over stupid stuff.
And think of all the adolescent mess my parents had to put up with while they raised me. My mom was an excellent seamstress and made her own clothes, curtains, pillows, slipcovers--anything that required stitching on a machine. When she made me tops and one very complicated coat all I could think of was how the little rolled caps at the top of the shoulders made me look like a football player. "Can't you make it flat?" I would moan. I had to be forced to wear these creations. Don't you feel like wringing my ungrateful neck, just reading this? Everybody does stupid stuff, says stupid stuff to other people. Consider it bad debt, erase it from the books and move on. Relationships rule over stupid stuff.
But, what about the bad stuff that happens between people in close relationships, over and over, year after year? Arguments that are never resolved, blame tossed around, disagreements that don't come to a compromise. What about the sad or angry feelings that remain in the air and don't get settled to anyone's satisfaction but are just swept away in the hopes of being forgotten.
To erase a debt there really has to be something owed--perhaps an apology for hurting words or ignored feelings. The offended person does the erasing and relinquishes their hope for a satisfying ending. The debtor is passive, yet receives the benefit of owing no more. The debtor may one day realize their error and work on making amends, but there is no certainty of this happening.
If you care for someone who runs from conflict or at least from discussing highly-charged matters you might put your bruised feelings in a box and stick it on a shelf, waiting for resolution one day. Then, you can bring a box back out when the time seems right and try to reopen the issue. Or, you can wait for the other person to realize their mistakes, bring you the open box and ask for forgiveness.
There are many people with warehouses full of these boxes.
How about evaluating the value of the relationship and, if it's worth preserving, have a bonfire and burn those boxes. Then, write it off as bad debt.
Easier said than done. You may need a guide to lead you through this. If so, find a licensed counselor to help you make an action plan.
If you can write off the shortcomings and mistakes of people you care for you will feel your shoulders lighten and your heart will feel freer. Imagine how wonderful that could be.
We weren't in much danger of the mail-order companies pursuing him for the countless magazines and DVDs he had ordered, but those ancient medical invoices looked critical. When I called the billing offices of several specialists I learned that his account had been written off long ago, as bad debt.
"But I have the money to pay you now," I countered.
"That would take us re-opening his account and it's less trouble to just keep it all 'as is,'" the office manager replied, "it's not on the books anymore."
There was no convincing the staff and knowing that his bills were left unpaid felt very incomplete to me.
When I think about this it causes me to remember how my bestest friend, Catherine, wrote off my "bad debt" back in seventh grade. Like every other female in the school I was caught up in the British Invasion but, instead of the Beatles, my object of affection was the Dave Clark Five. DC5 on PBS
My fellow aficionados--but not Cathy--gabbed constantly about the band, imitated them by wearing dorky, velvety caps in the halls between classes and, worst of all, talking in fake British accents. After this humiliating phase ended I asked Cathy how she put up with me acting like that, for so long.
Her answer was quick and simple, "Karenen, you're my bestest friend. I'm not going to stop being friends with you because of something like that." That was it; friendship rules over stupid stuff.
And think of all the adolescent mess my parents had to put up with while they raised me. My mom was an excellent seamstress and made her own clothes, curtains, pillows, slipcovers--anything that required stitching on a machine. When she made me tops and one very complicated coat all I could think of was how the little rolled caps at the top of the shoulders made me look like a football player. "Can't you make it flat?" I would moan. I had to be forced to wear these creations. Don't you feel like wringing my ungrateful neck, just reading this? Everybody does stupid stuff, says stupid stuff to other people. Consider it bad debt, erase it from the books and move on. Relationships rule over stupid stuff.
But, what about the bad stuff that happens between people in close relationships, over and over, year after year? Arguments that are never resolved, blame tossed around, disagreements that don't come to a compromise. What about the sad or angry feelings that remain in the air and don't get settled to anyone's satisfaction but are just swept away in the hopes of being forgotten.
To erase a debt there really has to be something owed--perhaps an apology for hurting words or ignored feelings. The offended person does the erasing and relinquishes their hope for a satisfying ending. The debtor is passive, yet receives the benefit of owing no more. The debtor may one day realize their error and work on making amends, but there is no certainty of this happening.
If you care for someone who runs from conflict or at least from discussing highly-charged matters you might put your bruised feelings in a box and stick it on a shelf, waiting for resolution one day. Then, you can bring a box back out when the time seems right and try to reopen the issue. Or, you can wait for the other person to realize their mistakes, bring you the open box and ask for forgiveness.
There are many people with warehouses full of these boxes.
How about evaluating the value of the relationship and, if it's worth preserving, have a bonfire and burn those boxes. Then, write it off as bad debt.
Easier said than done. You may need a guide to lead you through this. If so, find a licensed counselor to help you make an action plan.
If you can write off the shortcomings and mistakes of people you care for you will feel your shoulders lighten and your heart will feel freer. Imagine how wonderful that could be.
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| Proverbs 19:11 |
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