I closed my cell phone and sighed. Bad news. Depressing news. Overwhelming, sad, gut-wrenching and painful news. I put the phone back in my pocket and continued feeding Sean. I was silent, and he could tell that something was wrong. Part of me wanted to tell him what was going on with my family, just so i could say in my heart "see, you're not the only one that has problems. I can tell you about problems." I banished the thought, ashamed at my own selfishness.
Sean tried to comfort me. His words were awkwardly delivered, but sincere. I looked away. I felt raw, weak, uncertain, exposed. Here was this 17 year old boy, who, for the last year and a half, had opened up his pain to me every single day, talking on and on, over and over about his frustrations with his family and the feeling of being isolated, ignored, not takes seriously, judged, powerless, helpless......
I was the one that was supposed to have words to say in these situations! I am the one who sits and listens while you are vulnerable with me, showing me your weakness, and allowing me to administer some truthful words, some hopeful exhortation. I am 8 years older than you. I am your mentor. I do not share my pain with you, much less open up my life to you and let your words minister God's love to me.
In the midst of pain and confusion, all this appeared as foolish, immature lies.
I am helpless. I am afraid, just like you are. I am weak, and i sometimes feel trapped, ignored, unloved. My pain is not much different from your pain. You are my brother, and you are an instrument of God's love. I could not see that until i was willing to let you say some words of truth into my own pain.
It is hard to love you. It is hard to love the people that i love the most. they are so difficult. they can be so annoying. they have such an amazing ability to misread, misunderstand and miscommunicate with me! Why even continue in relationships!?
Why does God continue in his steadfast love to generation after generation? Why does he usher us gently pack into his arms after we have run away from him? Why does he choose to share the communion of Passover with us after we have betrayed him and before we will deny him?
I do not understand.
But sometimes, my heart understands it.
There is so much pain, so much darkness. It is real. It is the world we live in. Our disinfected culture makes it seem like pain is abnormal, an anomaly. Really, pain is a fundamental link, a common ground, a shared experience of all human beings, ever since we chose our own foolish way in the garden of Eden.
Jesus, who shared in our pain, rescue us, save us.
