19 05 2008
God, it hurts.

I feel their pain as my own, carry the weight of their hurt, their frustration, their confusion. I want–need–to help, but my hands are tied. My only weapons are my words and my prayers.

I have to sit by and watch as they struggle through this, sometimes making bad decisions, falling, passively or actively destroying their lives and/or their faith.

Why must I have this gift of compassion? Why must I carry this burden? And why must I be so selfish as to think of myself in the midst of their pain?

How do I balance this gift (and sometimes curse)? How do I show compassion and give counsel without rendering myself useless by the weight of their burdens.

As with everything, the answer lies in the source of the gift. In He who with His voice called the light into being, who controls the universe and bends the elements to His will. In He who created flowers purely for our enjoyment, crafts the tiny fingers of each new baby, and whose very breath is the life in every one of us.

In He who invites “Come, all you who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matt. 11:28 )

This gift is not given that we might grow sicker each day with the maladies of others, while not healing them in the slightest. Rather we must love, care, share, while always committing them to God. May I serve with a listening ear, ready hands, and a light heart.

“We have different gifts, according to the grace given us…if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.” (Romans 12:6-8 )




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