“I wish I had been more affirming… if I had life over again.”
This was one of four surprising answers from the 95ers. ...more affirming... Really? Not the kind of regret I would expect from someone who lived a full life. Took more risk? Yes. A better legacy? Yes
It was actually Chuck Swindoll who added this last If-I-had-life-over-again wish. He was in his late sixties at the time, I believe, so he counts as an older person. But like I said above, affirmation? Of all the things to choose ….
Last week someone wished I had defined legacy better so this week I'll define affirmation: An affirming person embraces and validates the inherent worth of others, offering acceptance and support and respect, encouraging them without demands for conformity.
Well, that sentiment feels very 2024, especially considering Swindoll expressed it back in the 1990s.
I find it interesting that this wish came from a famous Christian author and preacher, Chuck Swindoll. Ironically, figures like Swindoll are often perceived as being judgmental rather than affirming, accepting, or supportive. They have a reputation for being judgy and finger-pointing and experts at parsing righteousness. They lay down God's law and pontificate on right and wrong.
Affirming might be the last adjective used to describe the Swindoll's of the world.
But that's what he wished he had been more of. Think of it … he's near the end of his life … and that was what he wished he'd done better with.
It really hits home for me because I, too, was a preacher at one time. I was an expert at pointing out people’s shortcomings. I used to be judgy—the quality I would say is the opposite of affirming.
But like Swindoll, later in life, I'm less so. I still have opinions and convictions and try to exercise good judgment, but I'm less reflexively judgy. I'd like to think I'm less arrogantly, snobbily, religiously judgmental, looking down my nose, rock in hand, ready to stone the sinner.
Now, at 65, I know better than anyone that I, too, am a sinner. I need grace and forgiveness. And I don’t want someone to paint me with a broad brush. I just don’t! I want a chance to show my true self and my true heart and my true convictions. I don’t want you, or anyone else, to evaluate me purely based on what you see on the outside.
And more than any time in my life, I see the wisdom of 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' But don't just skip over that phrase because you've heard it a million times. Think about it! It's the Golden Rule for a reason. It may—and I'm trying hard not to be preachy here—be the most important life principle of all: 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.'
Affirm others, as you'd like to be respected.
Support others, as you'd like to be supported.
Encourage others, as you'd like to be encouraged.
With all your heart and all humility and all the Christ-likeness you can muster, be as kind to others as you can.
Think about this: when you think of Jesus's qualities, isn't his affirming nature one of the most prominent? He had a way of not repelling. He naturally attracted people of all stripes.
In fact, if he was ever finger-pointing or upset, it was about those who were being judgy—the Pharisees. Yes! Isn’t that ironic? It was with the most religious, most sanctimonious, most self-righteous, and most critical that he reserved his harshest words and most biting metaphors. He called them:
"White-washed tombs."
"Blind guides."
"A brood of vipers."
Those who "strain a gnat and swallow a camel."
Ouch! His intolerance was reserved for the intolerant.
What I now admire most about Jesus is his remarkable ability to affirm people while remaining unwavering in his convictions. How do you do that as elegantly as he did? He was warm to the nonreligious; he socialized with the 'sinners'; he was famous for being a friend of tax-collectors; he was even gentle with the religious—as long as they were humble.
Jesus was affirming if he was nothing else.
So, Mr. Swindoll, I also want to be more affirming in my life. I want others to feel my acceptance and support and kindness. They may know that I still hold firm convictions in my heart about what the Bible says and what Jesus expects and why God created us and what is right and wrong. But I want them to feel me … to know my heart … to feel my support … to see my humility … to sense my respect, and, above all, know my love.
I know that’s a tall order, but I’m sticking with it.