In Esther 4:14, Mordecai tells his cousin, the young, beautiful Queen Esther, troubled over the disloyalty and plotting of an evil man: “who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”
This has weighed heavily on my heart over the past few weeks. In the news, I keep hearing about terrible crimes against humanity: ethnic cleansings that are actually genocides*, men intentionally driving cars into crowds, police brutality, etc… It is devastating. Here I am, “recovering” from two stress-filled weeks of taking four finals, writing three final reports, and giving three presentations. And all around me, people are suffering and dying. It’s humbling, no?
I wish there was a way to make the hurting go away. My friend told me a parable about babies floating down a river. Two people jump in to save them over and over again until one of them decides to go upstream and find out who is tossing all these babies in the river. They find a baby factory, where the workers are unaware and unable to stop the terrible things that they are doing, sending all these helpless babes into the river. The person realizes that it would take days, months, even years to shut down the factory, stop the project foremen who are giving the orders, and save future babies from a fate such as this. It is almost hopeless. But let us remember the OTHER person, who stayed in the river to continue saving the babies. (read this journal publication if you want more like that story; it’s quite provoking: Journal of College and Character)
So how do we protect all the babies and shut down the factory?
With a lot of work, dedication, and care.
The baby factory is a metaphor for the societal injustice that spawns suffering. In order to save them, we must give attention to the individual’s case, as well as the root cause. This is called pragmatic solidarity: recognizing the problem, supporting the victims, and effecting actual, helpful solutions.
I have struggled with depression for many years now, a depression I often refuse to acknowledge and reveal to anyone else. Usually, it just means I suddenly become really sad and lose the enthusiasm to be around people. But, sometimes it’s worse. Sometimes, brought on by personal experience of a calamity, it’s systematic, lasts for months, and can’t be overcome by a good cry. In my first year of university, my depression was utterly debilitating. I can’t tell you how many times I found myself unable to get up off my dorm room floor, sobbing with fresh, bleeding cuts, feeling hopeless. I left my door wide open, begging for help without using the words to say it. But no one ever walked in. No one even knew.
I don’t tell you this so you can feel bad for me. I am telling you this because I want you to know that it is okay to be sad, to feel depressed, to show emotion. Yes, this world is full of deep pains and sorrows that are way beyond our comprehension; but we have our own burdens, too. In some shape, the sin of the world manifests itself in our lives. I have no doubt in my mind that you have something happening in your life that makes you feel small and sad and alone. I am sorry for what ever you are facing. No matter how small, no matter how large, it is a real pain and it is significant. This existence has a heaviness, a weight to it.
In reference to Myanmar, Nicholas Kristof (a columnist for the New York Times) says “brave survivors ensure that we will never be able to shrug and say: If only we had known. We know.”
So maybe, this is what I’m being called to do. To be a light and a helper to my fellow inhabitants of this planet, in actual ways that change their life and not just put a Band-Aid on it. I know and recognize suffering, but I want to do more.
I don’t just mean on the World Race. Hurting is everywhere. People need care and unconditional love here in Ohio just as much as in Haiti or Myanmar or Italy. I don’t have the money or the connections to give a bunch of people free medicine or build a school for a village, but what I do have is what God gave me. He gave me a heart that deeply cares about other people, a servant heart that desires to give my all to others. So, I will use that- this love I have been freely given- to pour out into people I encounter, intentionally and care-fully. Maybe I can be a small part in their healing and survival.
If there is anything you want to tell me, just so someone else knows or so that I can pray for you or help you, please reach out. My ear is always open, and I will harbor no judgement towards you.
*If you don’t know what I’m talking about here, I highly suggest you read this article (and more) to learn more about the genocide in Myanmar. Is This Genocide?
