On the way to church yesterday morn, I coached the boys for the upcoming week.
Listen up gentlemen. There’s been a tad too much arguing and mocking and atti-ti-tudes going on. Let’s cool it, shall we? Let’s look for the best in each other instead of seeing the worst, okay? I for one, will try to be more patient.
Yea, Ty added. ‘Cuz your’e too weighty.
The child knows my secrets. Well, yes, I know my pants are too tight and I inhaled the tub of cookie dough in one sitting but you don’t have to rub the weighty thing in.
God uses little people’s words when they aren’t even aware of the power they carry.
Because as soon as I got to church and the worship began, I noticed my chest hammering above the voices singing in unison, the base bumping in rhythm. And there.it.was.
Weighty. Heavy. Like a dozen bricks piled high on my neck and shoulders. The weight of so many friends who are hurting right this very minute. And the biggest weight? A boulder of shame I placed on the top brick.
I should be doing more. Caring more. Inviting more. Showing up more. If I was a better friend I’d be calling and cooking and and and, well, the list never ends. I could run myself ragged chasing reactive hurt at every second of every day and still not have enough hours to lift the weight off those who need relief from sadness or hospital nightmares or suffering.
Sometimes the biggest obstacle between Jesus and those hurting is me. The pressure I put on myself to be a good friend adds unnecessary weight and self-imposed expectation. The truth is God is going to work hope and miracles and bring community in out-of-the-box ways to those in need and I don’t have to be in the center of all of it because I am not the Savior of the world.
If someone close to you is hurting or sad or suffering and you feel like you want to wave a wand and fix it all, I feel you friend. Do you know what’s so beautiful about your heart? The fact that you care. That your heart breaks for those who hurt. That, no doubt, is why you are a good friend. And you can’t be a good friend to every need. It’s just not possible.
You are doing the best you can with what you’ve been given. Who is on your heart today? It won’t be, can’t be, every need, but ask Him, God, who is hurting and how can I be your hands and feet? Then be it. We aren’t called to save the world, we are, however, called to love the brokenhearted. So look around. Who’s broken? Who’s hurting? And instead of feeling the weight that it’s your responsibility to remove the pile of bricks, reach for one.
Because that one brick on one person’s shoulders, it matters. It offers hope in the heavy.