The Correlation

I’d like to think that I am a compassionate person. However, I’ve spent time examining some of my responses to friends when they’ve suffered or struggled through difficult circumstances and I’ve realized the depth of my compassion can be very shallow at times. 

In his book, Turn My Mourning into Dancing, Henri Nouwen has this to say about compassion:

 

The word [compassion] comes from roots that mean literally to “suffer with.”‘ To show compassion means sharing in the suffering “passion” of another. Compassion understood this way asks more from us than a mere stirring of pity or a sympathetic word.

To live with compassion means to enter others’ dark moments. It is to walk into places of pain, not to flinch or look away when another agonizes. It means to stay where people suffer.

 

I don’t think any of us really like “staying where others suffer.” I know I don’t. Consequently I am quick to offer solutions and advice. I am quick to suggest that “we must pick up our cross” forgetting that even Jesus had help carrying his cross (Luke 23:26).  I wonder how many times my words of “exhortation” have only made a friend’s cross seem even heavier? As Nouwen puts it:

 

We try to help our friends quickly process grief…All the while however, we act less out of genuine suffering with and more out of the need to stand back from the discomfort we might feel…Our hesitation to look squarely at another’s suffering, to sit or stand with someone in pain, weighs on conversations an obligation for the other to “act happy”…Our evasions do not help others but rather cause them to put up defenses and drive away those who need someone to care. By offering premature advice on how to cope, by rushing to reassure, by prodding with advice, we say much about our need for easy closure. When we barge in with such consolation, we make hurting souls into objects or projects.

One reason we react to others this way grows out of our skirting of our pain. We resist getting near the suffering of another partly our of our unwillingness to suffer ourselves. For another’s hardship suggests to us what can also hurt us. 

 

As I’ve reflected on Nouwen’s words I’ve come to the conclusion that I often lack compassion because I do not suffer well. When suffering comes my way I am slow to accept the trial and quick to complain. If I cannot embrace my own suffering and difficulties then how can I sit with someone else in the midst of their suffering and pain. I’d never made this correlation before but it does makes sense.  Those who embrace their own pain and suffering (like Jesus) are better able to show compassion, better able to suffer with others in the midst of their pain. 

I am hesitant to even write this next sentence because of what it implies.

Father, help me to be more compassionate.

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Those First Fifteen Minutes…

 

I hate the first 15 minutes of exercise. Hate is a strong word I know, but I really mean it. In those first fifteen minutes every muscle and cell in my body screams “stop, don’t do it, sit down, relax, read a book, have some chocolate or better yet a Blue Moon.”  If only I could skip right to the part where the endorphins kick in. But no such luck. No, I really don’t like those first fifteen minutes.

On the other hand, I love the first fifteen minutes of a family road trip. We stop for Starbucks, pick up donuts at Dunkin’ Donuts (it’s rare that I buy and eat donuts), everyone is happy and excited about our adventure. In those first fifteen minutes no one fights, is bored or whines. No one asks, “Are we there yet?” and no one has to go to the bathroom. Yes, I love the first 15 minutes…but only those 15 minutes. Once those first 15 minutes are over everything changes. I’m not kidding, minute 16 hits and it’s downhill from there.

Why am I thinking about this today?

First, I’m about to head out to the gym and I’m dreading, really dreading those first 15 minutes!

Second, I’m considering taking the girls on a road trip to visit my sister in Georgia. I’m thinking that before I make any final decisions I ought to remind myself about the other 7 hours and 45 minutes. ;-)

A Good Reminder

I really like things to go my way. So, when I read the title of the following excerpt from The Imitation of Christ by Thomas A Kempis, I cringed and considered putting the book away. My initial reaction aside I’ve read it many times over in the last month. It speaks truth and it’s a good reminder. Here it is…

ON THE ADVANTAGE OF NOT HAVING EVERYTHING OUR OWN WAY

It is good that everything is not always to our liking; for adversity makes people look into their hearts in order to realize that they are exiles and must not put their hopes in any worldly thing.

It is good for us to run into opposition and to have others think badly of us, even when our intentions are good. For these things help us to be humble and rid us of pride. Then we seek God more earnestly, Who alone knows our inmost self, when outwardly we are ignored and discredited by others.

Therefore, people should rely so entirely on God that they have no need to look for human consolations when adversity comes. When  people of good disposition are afflicted…then they understand the need they have of God that without Him they can do nothing.

Then too they grieve, while they sigh and pray because of the miseries they endure. They grow weary of this life and long for death in order to be with Christ, their Lord. It will also be clear to them that there is neither perfect peace nor security in this world.

Thomas A Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 

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Doubt and Faith

 

Out of chaos often comes the greatest creativity. And the only thing that can endure deep doubt is faith. You will not allow yourselves to go into the deeper levels of doubting without, in fact, a very strong faith.

Those who can endure great doubt, in my experience, have been those who rise to great faith. Faith gets purified every time you go through the cycle of doubt and failure, saying, “Why do I believe this? Do I believe this at all? What do I base my life on?” On this wheel of fortune just about everything is purified: self-image, God-image, worldview.

from Hope Against Darkness

 

Great Doubt and Great Faith -  two sides of the same coin?