“Be kind to each other. We have no
idea the pain others carry. No idea how hard people are working to transform
their hurt into something that heals.”
We live in a gargantuan world with
such wide-ranging experiences—from the dizzying and deceptive materialistic
heights to the lows of numb-town; a reality 97% of us have no idea about.
We live at a time when Apple gets
all our money and Facebook gets all our time. It’s hard to compare the
privilege of our time to the arduousness of a time not that long back. Yet with
all its privilege—and our sense of unbridled entitlement—the prosperity gospel
telling us we should all be blessed—we are staggered to find there is an
unprecedented gap between those that have and those that have not.
In a reversal of fortunes the
blessed materially are never poorer spiritually.
Like the 13-year-old girls in
McDonald’s; arguing aloud and calling each other selfish and disrespectful,
with not a guardian in sight. These kids had laptops and iPhones, yet not a
parent within earshot. They seem to have more than enough, but the very things
they truly need—love, discipline, a good role model—are perhaps nowhere to be
seen.
These kids have no idea how lost
they are. They have only their experience as a gauge. Their life is normal to
them, but their pain is ever-present.
As I sat in McDonald’s not 10-feet
away, pretending not to be perturbed about their behaviour, I couldn’t help
think about the damage done by guardians (of whatever form) who have neglected
these ‘spoilt’ kids. There are a million characterisations of neglect in this
world, without even broaching the subject of overt abuse, for neglect is its
own form of abuse.
These kids are carrying pain, and
their only defence, their only resistance, is attack. They have no way of
dealing in the world other than to fight. We don’t have to look far to understand
where they learnt that.
And like everybody, there is a
great desire within the heart to heal the hurt. It’s a tragic irony, then, to
observe how these kids, along with many others, will search in all the wrong
spots. They will find their ‘healing’ in alcohol and other drugs, in
relationships with equally broken people (perpetuating the pain), and in myriad
other forms of pain-perpetuating relief; forms of relief that shatters hope of
relief. I’m glad I tried many of these forms of fake relief to know the one and
only True Relief.
Everybody needs Jesus, but few
actually come close.
The lesson in all this—the lesson
for a ‘privileged’ Westerner like me—is tolerance for the pain behind
the person, for the deep-seated anguish simmering away inside.
Heavenly
Father,
Make me
thankful, and not snooty, for a ‘normal’ upbringing; for this privileged
Australian life; to live in this wonderful land—the Great South Land of the
Holy Spirit. Make me compassionate, and, above all reachable, when it comes to
the hidden plight of others. When people abuse and attack and annoy, help me to
see the fearful rage within them that seeks a home—a place of peace, though
they may know it not. Make me submit to your love, to your grace, to your river
of peace—that they may find Jesus’ peace in me, somehow. Help me be silent at
the right time and help me to speak at the right time. Make me humble; your
servant.
In Jesus’
restoring name, AMEN.
***
When we have an eye for pain and
an ear for anguish—the types that are unspoken and even denied—our hearts fill
with compassion beyond our fear. In the hardest of hearts are pains so deep,
where only the love of Jesus could break through and abide.
Of course, we are all in some
pain; some anguish. Only God can patch us by his grace.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.