It’s incredible how easily what we see, smell and hear can take us to places we love to remember…or sometimes ones we’d give anything to forget. Memory is enigmatic stuff, y’all. I might be standing there washing dishes, and in the silence I can hear, as if it were all taking place right in the kitchen where I stand, some hostile exchange of words I may have had with someone years ago, and get upset all over again. But we need memories-even the bad ones. Memory is what keeps a child from putting his hand on a hot stove again after having burned himself once already. It can keep us from making the same mistakes twice, if we pay enough attention. Sometimes we try to block out certain pain so as not to re-live or re-experience the discomfort. That’s a defense mechanism most of us cultivate early on, so as not to keep suffering over and over again from the same blow, and the reasons for such emotional shielding are logical, in theory. But, is feeling the pain after the injury is behind us always such a bad thing?
When I was a child I told myself I would never forget how bad it made me feel when adults talked about me as if I weren't there, or when people laughed off any worry I expressed because to them I was just a cute kid. I didn't want to forget that, because that way I could guarantee I wouldn’t grow up to be that kind of grown-up. Instead, I’d be the Pied Piper; the one all the children flocked to; the one who understood. I promised myself I’d never roll my eyes at the teenager who would rather die than have to go back to school on Monday and be laughed at for wearing shoes from Payless. That I’d never tell the fat kid that real beauty was on the inside, because I’d remember that when I was the fat kid, that really did just sound like a load of crap.
In case you haven’t figured this out yet, as a younger person I was deeply sensitive and emotional-almost to the point of instability. In order to save my own life I made a choice to be proactive in being happy, and though my circumstances aren’t perfect, I find my life as a whole much easier to face. With the help of Jehovah God, the modern medicine he has allowed to exist, his organization, and just plain old time and growing up I’ve learned to work through my pain as it comes and I can honestly say that generally speaking I am content. And that bothers me sometimes, because now that I am, I don’t know that I have the same ability to empathize. I try…I know its possible; Jesus empathized with the suffering of imperfect humans although he himself was perfect. But I just feel like I was better at feeling others’ pain when I myself was a regular to sadness. I never wanted to be someone cold-I’m not superstitious but it just seems like people who aren’t good at being empathetic always get reminded of what real pain feels like in a very real way. The thing is, I was sad for a long time…I got better…now I just want to see other people feel better, too.
I'm thinking about this much more right now. One of my dads, the biological one, has been fighting lymphoma for the past six months. My sister has been dealing with some health issues that previously I'd never even heard of. Being involved in the full time ministry exposes a person to a diverse array of people...and their diverse array of problems. And everybody else I know is still living in the last days of this system of things. There are economic problems; illnesses; family conflicts; romantic disllusion; bereavement; fights with our own imperfection. We are all struggling in some way but there are always moments when some people's problems are more serious than others, period. And then there are the pains of youth...which may on the grand scale of things be minor but feel unbearably major when one is too young to see things any other way. In my congregation I am surrounded by young people and I feel for so many of them because they just appear lost, and I'm sure they often feel that way, too. When people I love suffer, I feel frustrated-mostly with myself for being helpless to do anything about it, but (and go ahead and start throwing stones at me- maybe I deserve it) its almost as if I even get impatient with THEM, the poor victim. In my mind it's like, “I love you, dangit!! Feel better already!!” I know I’m not truly upset at the person, I’m just upset at what is robbing them of their happiness and because of my love I want it to go away. I know that healing- be it physical or emotional- isn't so cut and dry, but if I love you, I want it to happen RIGHT NOW. But so does the sufferer. As well-founded as that thinking may be, it is the last thing people need. What they need is to know someone else identifies with their battle. I know that’s what I need when I’m having a hard time; it just takes me a little time to remember that when the shoe is on the other foot. I tell you, empathy hurts. You live life to get past the bad times, not to feel them over and over again through others.
Then again, maybe that's the problem-I still remember they way I thought and felt at my worst, much more clearly than I want to. It's still too fresh, and when I hear what other people experience, their words become the scents and sounds that take me back to places I hadn't packed to visit again. I also remember how hard it was to get out if those dark places. Perhaps that's why I still have to work on being a good listener. It's not because I just adore hearing myself talk. When I hear expressions that strike a chord, that take me back to heartache or confusion that I thought was far behind me, my impulse is to fill in the spaces between sentences with logic, and answers, not realizing that what I'm sitting here trying to resolve for my loved ones in 10 minutes may have taken me 10 years to get resolved within myself. Maybe it's my way of psychologically going back and consoling myself through my own drama. Whatever it is, I know it isn't good, and I'm trying to fix that. It isn't about me...it isn't about getting the comfort I wish somebody else had known how to give me years ago. In the moment, I probably wouldn't have wanted to hear it. It would have been nice to just get a hug. I'm not complaining, I know those around me loved me the best way they knew how. But this right here, what I'm doing right now...I suppose this is what empathy is about; not thinking about how I feel, or even how I felt, but I'd feel if I were the person in who's eyes I'm watching the pain; and what I'd want from me, the listener. You don't always want your problems fixed. Most of us know the logistics and if we are too young to know, that's where our parents come in. What is needed is to know that we're not crazy or wrong for what we feel, and that whether or not other people exactly understand, they care.
I think life was meant to be lived linearly and three-dimensionally; moving forward and not in retrospect or jumping back and forth from hazy flashbacks to the present as if it were the director's cut of a feature film. But that linear, forward-moving life without the agonizing flashbacks or regrets just isn't what's up right now. We're going to see and feel things we don't want to see and feel, and then tragedy will strike someone we love and we'll go back to places we thought were behind us and it will ACHE. But Jehovah doesn't let it ever become unbearable.He knows we need one another's support, in a way that only another human can offer it. That is really amazing to think about how God uses us, in all our decay and dysfunction, to take care of each other until it's time for him to step in for good. I do feel the pressing need to help people find relief for their suffering the same way I did. The things I've been through (and the fact that I keep overcoming internal and external obstacles) is no credit to me whatsoever, but to what Jehovah does for his servants. Again and again he has lifted me up from the bottom of low. He helped my parents raise me to have some semblance of sense. He has showed me light when I really couldn't see anything in front of me but dense gloom. So my first recourse in caring for down-trodden friends and loved ones is to direct them to MY source of strength. But before I even do that, they need to know I love them and that their feelings are theirs to be had and not mine to judge or even undo. It's a difficult thing to master and no one is going to do this perfectly. But no man is an island; we were created to be a community. We have to learn to be there for each other, no matter how much it hurts to do so. Having someone else's pain in your heart is a beautiful thing when you think about it. It means we are alive-and that at least a little part of that treacherous heart works just as it was meant to.
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