I've been reading a book called Wrecked by Jeff Goins lately. The premise of the book is centered on the idea of how to deal with brokenness and pain of the world and how to move past the comfortable life to a deeper sense of freedom by being wrecked. Goins speaks to the issue of the purpose of life as he states "we think it's about self-actualization, about becoming the best version of ourselves. It's not. It's about losing ourselves". While it certainly is not enjoyable at the time, life's greatest purpose can be found by going where there is pain and brokenness.
For the past nine months, I have had the opportunity to work with patients in the hospital. My job is to sit with patients who may be suicidal, combative, or confused to ensure their safety by constantly observing them. Working with these patients has put me face to face with so much pain and brokenness. From day to day I could be sitting with a patient who has attempted suicide just days before to elderly patients how have been suffering with severe dementia for years. While each situation is different, my heart has been broken time after time for these patients.
I am exposed to so much pain on a daily basis. Whether it is the pain of the patient or that of the family or friends, I see brokenness. I can feel the raw emotion between a suicide patient and their family or friends. I see first hand the sadness of a son or daughter when they realize that their father or mother doesn't remember them because of their dementia. At times it seems as though all the hope has run out.
How do you tell a patient who wants to die because of the constant physical and emotional pain that he is loved by God? How do you tell a patient diagnosed with terminal cancer who says she's given up on praying to God that he still loves and cares for her? How do you tear down the walls of confusion caused by dementia and alzheimers to give hope to a suffering patient?
These are the stories that have wrecked my life. Sometimes it seems easier to simply ignore it, as then I can ignore the pain or the situation. The hard thing is listening to the heartbreak and having compassion. Goins sums it up perfectly as he says "this compassion stuff isn't nice and clean. It's horribly messy, which is precisely what makes it beautiful". He continues "stories worth telling are full of conflict. If you want to live one, pain is inevitable…compassions means to 'suffer with'… if you're trying to serve someone in need and it doesn't hurt a little, you're doing something wrong… sure, it's nice to lend a helping hand, but true compassion causes your heart to break – even at the moment you're helping".
There is pain all around us, if we would only listen to the cries and be propelled to action. For the longest time, all I saw was my own problems. My eye was stuck in the mirror that I missed so many opportunities to be an encouragement to others. After all, is that not how the body of Christ is to act; to build one another up in love, to be a support system for each other? There are endless opportunities to be involved in changing someone else's life. I can guarantee it will probably be painful in one sense or another, but I can also guarantee that in the end it will be worth it.
