Frogs
Howard Thurman once told a story about a frog and yeast cake that were sitting on a park bench. He did not say how either of them got there. But he did say that after spending several hours together, they began to like each other. They discussed relationships. They discoursed on culture. They debated politics. Before they knew it, the hours had turned into days, the days into weeks, and the weeks into months. Although they were different, they grew comfortable with each other’s company and soon could not imagine being apart.
Then one day, someone walked by the park bench and dropped some water on the yeast cake. As the water worked its way into the membranes of the yeast cake, it began to grow. As the yeast cake grew larger and larger, the frog grew increasingly irritated. Finally, the frog’s exasperation got the best of him. He looked over at the yeast cake and said “stop pushing me.” The yeast cake replied to the frog “I am not pushing you. I’m growing.”
Thurman said that point of the parable is that whenever you begin to grow, some people will mistakenly assume that you are trying to push them out of the way. Be advised: growth of any kind will always threaten your relationships. Unfortunately, many people are comfortable with the least expansive version of who you are. I knew two high school sweethearts. He was a football player and she was a cheerleader. They were both attractive, popular, and ambitious. However, once they graduated, their lives took them down radically different paths and their relationship atrophied, and then died. One day I saw her and asked what happened to them. Her response stung me. She said “I outgrew him.”
Sometimes, we simply outgrow people. And nowhere is this more poignant and perhaps more painful than when we begin to grow spiritually. Spiritual growth is such a threat to our relationships that the scripture explicitly warns us to expect it. In 1 Peter 4:1-4, we are given the following counsel:
Since Christ suffered physical pain, you must arm yourselves with the same attitude he had, and be ready to suffer, too. For if you have suffered physically for Christ, you have finished with sin. You won’t spend the rest of your lives chasing your own desires, but you will be anxious to do the will of God. You have had enough in the past of the evil things that godless people enjoy—their immorality and lust, their feasting and drunkenness and wild parties, and their terrible worship of idols. Of course, your former friends are surprised when you no longer plunge into the flood of wild and destructive things they do. So they slander you.
Whenever you begin to grow spiritually, your former friends will be surprised. They will be surprised by how you spend your time, how you spend your money, and how you make decisions. They will be surprised by the new habits you adopt, and the old habits that you drop. They will be surprised by how your character changes, your values shift, and your purpose evolves. But don’t be surprised that they are surprised.
They may be well intentioned, legitimately nice people who are deeply concerned about your welfare. But more than likely, they are frogs.