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How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody
How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody
How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody
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How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody

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When you're desperate for help with your hurting relationships, here's a book with a different approach. It takes what the Bible has to say about relationships and applies those healing truths to your life and your friendships.

It will help you identify and get rid of problems that seperate you from others and keep you from enjoying satisfying, Christ-centered relationships. Practical suggestions show you how to stop feeling bitter and resentful and help you to listen more effectively, become more patient, and share in the joy of others. Christ's love can flow unhindered through your life.

Counselor James P. Hilt has helped hundreds of people who wanted more healthy, happy personal relationships. His insight into Scripture and his counseling experience are now offered to you in a practical, easy-to-understand book.

You can have a better relationship with anybody—God, your children, your spouse, friends, other Christians! The answers are found in Scripture. How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody will help you find them—and use them.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 5, 1984
ISBN9780802493613
How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody

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    How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody - James Hilt

    Team

    Preface

    The late Chuck Colson of Prison Fellowship said it was the best artistic expression of the Christian faith in the twentieth century. He was referring to the movie Chariots of Fire about the Scottish track star Eric Liddell, who won a gold medal in the 400 meters in world-record-breaking time (47.6 seconds) in the 1924 Olympics in Paris, France.

    This movie was superbly crafted, winning four Academy Awards for Best Original Score, Best Original Screenplay, Best Costume Design, and Best Picture. I was moved when Chariots of Fire won Best Picture, knowing its impact would greatly increase around the world.

    Along with Eric’s track performances, the movie focused on his strong Christian faith and decision to serve Christ as a missionary in China, which he delayed until after the Olympics. What especially struck me was his ever-present humility (he was an expert at deflecting hero worship thrust on him) and kindness toward others, including competitors like Harold Abrahams.

    Harold won the 100 meters in the 1924 Olympics, which Eric was favored to win but pulled out of because the qualifying heats were held on a Sunday. Because he believed the Sabbath was God’s day, he refused to compete on it. During Harold’s race, Eric cheered him on and was one of the first to rush to his side to congratulate him. A moving scene in the movie.

    The following year, in 1925, Eric became a missionary to Tientsin, China. His older brother Rob, also an exceptional athlete, served as a doctor in a hospital in Siaochang, China. Their parents had been respected missionaries in China.

    Almost two decades later, in March, 1943, during World War 2, the occupying Japanese forced Eric, along with 1,800 other internationals including women and hundreds of children, into Weihsien internment camp.

    Sally Magnusson, who authored Eric’s exceptional biography, The Flying Scotsman, describes the camp’s wretched conditions (chapter 10 about the camp is fascinating and instructive):

    Imagine, then, what life was like at Weihsien. It was an over-populated camp where the only privacy anyone had was an area of 9 feet by 54 inches round his bed; a place populated by bored children and frustrated teenagers and confused old people, by the widest range of personalities, all rubbing up against each other, queuing for the toilets and the meals and the roll-call and the chores: nerves grinding and personalities clashing, and nowhere to escape to. All the familiar creature comforts were gone, all the structures by which people organize their lives had been turned upside down.¹

    This set the stage for constant flare-ups of anger and bitter conflicts. Personal reports by internees after the war showed a number of missionaries and Christian leaders contributed to these conflicts because of being short tempered, harshly exclusive, and selfish. This seriously undermined their witness in the camp.

    I was moved and, I might add, relieved that Eric was radically different. Instead of fueling the fire of strife, he labored day and night, even when stricken with an agonizing brain tumor, to encourage and strengthen others. He did this until his death five months before the camp’s liberation in 1945.

    When disputes arose, Eric was usually consulted to resolve them, which he did with effective skill. He led and organized to help bring structure to the camp, including being in charge of sports for children and teens. He led Weihsien Christian Fellowship and spoke at church services.

    Eric carried coal and water for the physically weak and elderly. He helped a Russian prostitute alone and in need who was harshly shunned by others. She said Eric was the only man who had ever done anything for her.

    He gave many personal, caring attention, including helping children with their books and a girl for whom he made a beautiful notebook filled with drawings. When a woman was interviewed years later by Magnusson, she recalled as a teen, He was a friend, someone around if you needed him.²

    Though the camp atmosphere was filled with backbiting, criticism, and gossip, no one had a bad word to say about Eric, for he was always at his best, kind and loving, with everyone.

    A keen observer and later a prolific author said this about Eric’s death: The entire camp, especially its youth, was stunned for days, so great was the vacuum that Eric’s death had left.³ He was effusive in his praise of Eric’s character, faith, and enduring compassion.

    In 2008, Chinese authorities revealed that Eric was given an opportunity to leave the camp but refused. Instead, his place on a prisoner exchange was given to a pregnant woman, new information that surprised his family.

    This book is meant to help bring healing and strength to minds and relationships. To help bring the kind of God-given character and relational strength that marked and sustained Eric who then encouraged and strengthened men, women, and children until his end. Vital qualities that stand out and endure even during the darkest times.

    1

    Avoid Bitterness; It’s Lethal 

    While sitting on a bench outside a rustic chapel, I felt deeply troubled.¹ It was the last hour of a long weekend retreat.

    What’s wrong with me, I thought. As a youth group leader, I should show Christ’s love and understanding. But I can’t! What keeps bottling up my mind?

    I groaned an inward prayer: Jesus, when are you going to step in and do something about this?

    Suddenly, I sensed someone approaching. I glanced up and saw my friend Joe, a church leader in our area.

    How was your weekend? he asked.

    Rough, I replied. A moment of silence passed while I considered sharing my disappointment.

    Something inside of me stopped me from being myself. And my group suffered as a result, I finally said.

    Joe responded sympathetically by describing an incident that had made him bitter, eroding his emotional and spiritual health. As I listened to him, I had a distinct feeling that Christ was speaking through him to me.

    Perhaps my emotional distress is linked to bitterness, I thought. Is there anyone toward whom I feel frequent anger? I questioned myself.

    My mind quickly focused on a friend who had betrayed my trust. For months, his offense had caused bitter annoyance in the back of my mind.

    Some time later, I learned how to get rid of that bitterness—in the next chapter I will share the steps I took—and I sensed a gradual release from bondage. I joyfully rediscovered the sweet inner liberty that had evaded me like a mirage.

    Since that experience, I have been intrigued by the causes and eroding effects of bitterness. I am convinced that Satan uses it constantly to crush lives. Yet bitterness is so subtle that many Christians view it as less dangerous than some of the more obvious sins.

    Anger may come and go, but unfortunately that is not usually the case with bitterness. Bitter feelings will often remain with a person for years. In fact, in my counseling I have met many people, including the elderly, whose bitterness began in their youth.

    That is why the writer of Hebrews aptly referred to it as a bitter root (Heb. 12:15). Like a root, bitterness can grow and spread for years, entangling our attitudes, feelings, and thoughts.

    Why do people become bitter? Three major causes exist. First, every person has strong needs to love and be unconditionally loved, to feel worthwhile to themselves and to others. Each one of us is equipped with a mental radar screen that detects whether or not those needs are being met. The needs and the radar device are built into us by God.

    If a person registers a negative message, they feel cheated and deeply wounded inside. Seeds of anger may then germinate, which, if nourished by further evidences of unmet needs, can grow into a root of bitterness.

    A second major cause for bitterness is personal loss. Losing something or someone suddenly may be intolerable, and impossible to accept. Mental revolt occurs, which can cause and then feed the bitterness. Because we live in a hazardous, fallen world, many kinds of losses are possible. Financial loss is an example. An overwhelming wave of bitterness became evident in the wake of the Great Crash of 1929. Unable to accept and endure the sudden reversal of fortune, many people reacted bitterly by ending their own lives. Perhaps this is a picture of things to come.

    Loss of health, whether sudden or gradual, can also precipitate bitterness. What a crushing blow it is to a person’s equilibrium to learn that he has a blood disease or cancer leading to great pain and perhaps even death. With one stroke, such a loss can change the whole climate of one’s mind, causing intense agitation against God and life itself.

    Loss of meaning in life is a further possible cause of bitterness. Many people count on finding meaning in life solely by amassing important achievements, but sadly at the expense of cultivating a personal, love-relationship with Christ. For a season, a certain level of satisfaction may be reached. But then, before long, the law of diminishing returns sets in.

    Such people eventually reach the point where the more time and energy they invest in achievements, the less, in proportion, they receive in terms of meaning. Disillusionment and bitterness then emerge toward life for promising so much, yet delivering so little.

    I do not suggest that achievements should not be pursued. Achievements surely are important and can bring continued joy when they are in accordance with God’s will. But building a friendship with Christ must be placed at the top of our list of priorities. Only then will He enrich our lives with a lasting sense of meaning.

    Several losses occurring simultaneously are especially apt to provoke bitterness. Consider Job. Having lost his dear children, livestock, and health, he cried out: I loathe my very life: therefore I will give free rein to my complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul (Job 10:1).

    In addition to unmet needs and personal losses, sinful attitudes can also cause bitterness. It is interesting that God so created human beings that when sinful attitudes such as envy, jealousy, and pride emerge in our lives, we are drawn down a path leading to bitterness.

    It is evident that jealousy and pride triggered King Saul’s bitterness. Following David’s conquest of Goliath, women from different cities visited Saul. In a festive mood, they played musical instruments and sang, Saul has slain his thousands, and David his tens of thousands (1 Sam. 18:7).

    Immediately, Saul burned with jealousy and wounded pride, both of which triggered bitterness. He found it intolerable that some young, unknown sheepherder could detract from his own glorious popularity among the people.

    I am familiar with a Christian organization in which several staff members scrupulously critiqued each other’s performance with questions such as: Who is most popular? Who holds the highest esteem in the eyes of others? And who is most spiritual?

    The ones who seemed to be on the losing end of this win/lose contest of personalities erupted with jealousy, obviously toward the deemed winners. Bitterness then crept in, causing crude power struggles for authority, control, and popularity. Sadly, this contaminated their relationships and sabotaged the overall success of the organization.

    Examining our reactions in view of these three major sources of bitterness should help us to identify any existing bitterness in our own lives. Bitterness usually has one or more objects. It is usually directed toward another person, God, and/or oneself. Let’s explore this, beginning with other people.

    A bitter reaction might normally erupt toward another person when we feel betrayed, hurt, or offended by them. Their chosen actions and words—or even the lack of them—can leave us feeling wounded, then angry, then bitter.

    That happened to Ben, a college student. In counseling, it became clear that he had longed for unconditional love from his parents—love without any strings attached. Coupled with this was a constant hunger for parental approval, especially from his father. Yet Ben’s cravings remained unsatisfied.

    Though his father was a committed Christian and a pastor, Ben was bombarded with nonverbal messages like: "If you get good grades, excel in sports, and especially prove to be a good Christian model, then I will love and accept you. Then you will be OK." Thus, in Ben’s mind, his acceptability in his father’s eyes depended on which certain performance levels he reached. Because everything had to be earned, everything was conditional. Consequently, always having to prove himself—always having to do a tap dance—Ben felt cheated and deeply wounded inside, begetting bitterness, especially toward his father.

    All too often, I come across people like Ben, who have been emotionally abused by conditional love from parents and others;

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