Tag: compassion

The Introvert Rock

This is only for my fellow Social Introverts out there, and I want you all to hear me right now:

You know that thing we do where we love being with people so we are with them too much for a a period of time, but all the social activity ultimately wears us both mentally and physically? So then we want to find a rock to crawl under for a while – but not in a bad way. Not in an everybody-hates-me-so-I’ll-hide way, but in a so-blessed-really-but-I-need-to-breathe-now way. You know how that goes? Well, I’m there with you, so I am have been spending some time under the rock. I am very fond of you all and would invite you to share my rock, but as social introverts we are all in this together separately so you will have to find peace and rest under your own rock. Maybe when I crawl out we can meet for lunch or see a movie together and have fun exhausting each other again. Because, y’know, there’s always the rock.

Here’s the the thing, my friendly-but-introverted siblings-at-heart-and-also-at-a-distance, no matter what anyone leads you to believe, you deserve to rest. You really do. The world in general confuses us with extroverts and – weirdly – we often get swept up in that belief so we have to work a bit harder to get our quiet time. We need to make a clear and conscious choice to rest and then must deliberately set ourselves apart from society for a while. It’s not easy, but it is worth it for us and it makes us better, more patient people toward those we love.

So I’m telling you today – find your personal rock, inform those who need to know that you are righteously and justifiably hiding, then just do it – even if it’s only for a little while. Log off social media, shut off the electronics, cancel the social activities. Read a book, cuddle with your pets, indulge privately in your favorite hobbies, and put that rock firmly between you and the world for a while.

He is Here.

When you think of Jesus Christ, what image comes into your head?

Every day, every way, on more levels than any of us can possibly understand or imagine, Jesus lives. He is not a baby in a barn, a child in the Temple, preaching in Israel, bleeding on the Cross, currently resurrecting, or even wearing human skin. All of these events are part of His life and message and are worthy of breathless awe and honor, of course! But they are part of His history, not to be confused with what Christ is doing today or where He is right now – which happens to be in Heaven, at the right hand of God, listening to our hearts and being involved in our lives.

So, do these things:

Bow before the Holy Babe in the manger to honor Christ’s great love in coming to us.

Fall on your knees at the Cross and see the sacrifice He made and your own brokenness so you can repent and change your life.

Humble yourself to the ground in gratitude at the empty tomb because He miraculously conquered death to offer you a joyous forever.

Then stand in grace before the living ever-present Christ who is right here for you and is compassionate and powerful and sees exactly who you are from the top of everything lovely about you down to the tippy-toes of everything ugly and still loves you unconditionally, hears you unceasingly, laughs with your joys, weeps with your sorrows, encourages you unerringly, pours grace and mercy all over you, and stays with you wherever you go, whatever you do, no matter the darkness or mistakes – because He is yours and you are His! Reach toward the unfathomable wonder of Jesus Christ in the present and step up with confidence.

He is glorious, He is love, and He. Is. Here.

“I came so they might have life, and have it abundantly.” ~ John 10:10b

“For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but so that the world might be saved through Him.” ~ John 3:17

Small Things in a Time of Crisis

Internet communication and media entertainment and information are helpful and convenient right now, but do be careful in how you think of yourself in the realm of all you see. We can’t all be COVID-19 media famous! We can’t all be volunteers in our communities, or first responders, or have shelter-in-place exempted essential jobs. But you are so very valuable and whatever you are called to do in this moment – whatever is in front of you right now – is important. Even the small things matter. Especially the small things matter.

My husband and I have three brilliant, amazing young adult children with special needs, still home. Two are on the autism spectrum and one has autoimmune disorders and is immune system compromised so we are being careful. I help out friends when I can but my time is primarily committed to keeping our family moving forward and de-stressed as well as maintaining the household. We are not perfectly organized, not frenetically sterilized, and definitely not ready for YouTube! Our house is a bit small for five people and four pets, and we live in every corner of it. We are a single-income family and my husband’s hours have been cut so we are also working to pinch those pennies extra hard, but he is at least still employed and I am thankful for that. It is a crazy time and keeping everything running relatively smoothly with moderate peace in our home is more than a full time job. This is our life right now. Can you relate?

I laugh when the news airs segments about what to do with all the alleged extra down time! How to self-improve, new books to read, what media to watch, how to get in shape, and so on. I love my family so much, but they are time-consuming. Anxiety can be a profound issue with our beautiful early-20s children and sometimes my most important tasks of the day involve giving loving care, compassionate comfort, laughter and distractions, reassurances, and especially prayer. All these activities are precious but also intangible – no matter the hours or energy I expend, most of what I do leaves no lasting mark that will breathe beyond me on the world stage. Yet my job is so very important and valuable in the moment it needs to be done.

So here’s the thing – I am never going to be famous for my accomplishments during this time. You probably won’t either. Most of us won’t. History books will not reflect my name or my non-income job as a mom, home administrator, home lay therapist, and caretaker and say, “Wow! Look what this person did during the 2020 corona crisis!” When I see people doing amazing things on the news, I need to be at peace with the fact that I am not one of those people. But the person I am right now is the person God is calling me to be right now, doing my best to be patient and loving with what is before me right now (some days are pretty darn great and others have some epic fails!), and staying as faithful and committed as I can be – right now, in this moment, and each day as we travel this wild and unpredictable timeline in world history.

Mother Teresa said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” A slice of of wisdom that is both an observation and a challenge. Let’s meet that challenge.

Just Drive

I hate those days when I feel like I’ve lost my drive. Not just the drive, actually – I seem to have lost the whole dang car.  And there God is, patiently holding the keys and GPS that will get me back there. All I have to do is ask for help and mean it.

I have to mean it.

It sounds so simple, really. I just have to drop my earthbound baggage so my hands will be empty to take what He’s got – but I can’t seem to do it.

Why is that? Maybe because I am so tired in my head. Some days, the world just wears me down until I want to curl up in bed and turn my face to the wall. No drive, no momentum at all. I do know that God will lovingly pick me up every time I fail, so why am I hesitant to take what He is so willing to give? And still He remains – standing right by me, loving me so much, patiently prompting me to ask Him for help, and promising to stay near no matter what happens, no matter what I do, no matter where the road takes me.

But I still have to ask for my drive – my spirit – to be restored. A simple request. I can’t let the fear and fatigue stop me from doing that one little thing.

Everything else is on Him, but the first step is on me.

I can do this. I will do this. Here I go –

Buckle up.

Drop. Your. Stone.

We are all part of this thing called Humanity. We may have different skin colors and different cultures but we are – above all other things – human. Just for my own mild amusement, I occasionally get literal with demographic forms and write “Human” under the request for “Race”. (A teen once told me this is politically incorrect and I replied that the truth often is.)

Unlike Darwinian evolutionists, I do not believe we descended from apes or any other order of simians with different subsets of species going through evolution at different times, causing a separation into different “races” and therefore making some humans more developed than others. That way lies bigotry and red herring arguments. Rather, I believe God created us all in His image, of equal value, of the same race, descended from two people who were probably a nice medium brown, give or take, with a broad and varied genetic code. It seems to follow logically that different gene pools developed as humanity filled the earth, with different physical characteristics (skin color, eye shape, etc.) becoming more prevalent in certain people groups as families scattered over the earth and procreated with those nearby. Different cultures developed because that’s what people groups do – develop cultures. Most of the problems we have in the world today have less to do with differences among cultures and more to do with a failure to recognize similarities among humans.

So – my point today . . .

While first responders in general are often admired and honored, it also seems that criticism and hostility against law enforcement has increased in recent history. In the vast majority of cases, police are first on every scene, doing their best to protect those involved while having to make spur of the moment decisions in dangerous and unpredictable situations. They usually appear confident and in-charge, but we need to remember that officers and all first responders are subject to the same concerns and fears as everyone else – the difference is that they have decided to handle those fears and concerns with action, with the raw courage it takes to face down the darkness in order to protect the innocent. (I’m kind of doubting most of us are as innocent as we like to believe, but you get my drift here.) Sometimes officers make mistakes – sometimes tragic mistakes – but sometimes we all do. Just because a man or woman puts on a uniform does not make that person exempt from everything that makes all of us human. If we open our eyes to see the similarities we share instead of the differences, there would be much less judgement and much more compassion, much less crime and much more honesty, much less darkness and much more light.

Instead of looking for the light of shared humanity in each other, humans too often listen to their own fears and biases and rush into judgement – usually with incomplete information about the person, situation, culture, or circumstances. In the Bible, there was a moment when people stood in judgement over a woman caught in adultery and wanted to stone her to death. Legally, they had the right. Jesus was not one to care about legalism. He told the crowd, “He who has done no wrong among you, cast the first stone.” In that moment, Jesus called upon each person in the crowd to look upon themselves and each other, to see the shared humanity, the shared mistakes, the shared need for understanding. They dropped their stones and walked away. I like to believe that they each saw the truth in that moment. We all make mistakes. We all need forgiveness. We all need compassion.

That is not to say that we do not have consequences for our actions, both good and bad. Of course, consequences must be faced. Criminals must not be allowed to prey on those who try to do right. But I encourage you, when men and woman make mistakes in the process of trying to do the right thing – look inside the soul and see the part of that person that is just like you. We are all human. We all share so much under the skin. We are much more like each other than we are unlike. Rather than stand in judgement, choose to stand in compassion.

And drop your stone.

Fierce Forgiveness

Christ tells us to forgive 70 x 7. That sounds like a lofty goal, but have you ever had to work so hard at forgiving – or been offended by the same person so repeatedly – that you actually counted up to that 490th time? So does that mean when we hit 491, we are exempt from forgiving? If so, I think there should be a revenge app that plays the theme from Jaws when the counter flips to 491.

Sometimes forgiveness is easy. But sometimes – well, sue me – sometimes I don’t feel particularly forgiving. Forgiving certain offenses rips at my brain and tears at my gut. My anger is especially fierce against hurts to my children or others I love.

But carrying unforgiveness causes me to hold anger in my soul and bitterness in my heart – the very same heart and soul that I have given to Jesus as a dwelling place within me. Who would want to live in that? Who would even ask anyone to live in that? There is a reason He tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who curse us. I have discovered it is quite difficult to hold a grudge against someone I pray for regularly – or even irregularly. When I close my eyes to pray for someone, God opens my heart to the fears and struggles causing that individual to be unkind or thoughtless. That makes me look at my own fears and failures, and then I see how much I share with that person, after all – and my heart breaks a little, surrendering my grip on the negativity. I cannot help but release my resentment and forgive. This does not relieve the hurt entirely, but the bitterness and the anger are lifted and compassion flows instead.

Not all offenses are major – some are light and easy to forgive. But others generate pain, and pain leads to anger, and I must wrestle fiercely with myself and God before finding peace in forgiving those offenses.

Offense can be fierce. Anger is fierce. Forgiveness must be fierce. There is nothing more fierce than battling the powers of Hell and death in order to offer grace. As a Christ-follower, I am called to be a living, breathing carrier of the very grace and forgiveness that was given to me – no matter the circumstances. So on the days when my heart burns with hurt, I remember that Christ burned with so very much more. My soul is humbled – my defenses are lowered. His mercy flows hard and fast through me. And the light of forgiveness bursts outward in a fierce healing rush.