Ever learning. Always failing. Forever weak. Yet eternally saved. From a price to pay. Which I could and can not afford. Learning to live life. Learning to love life. Growing into shoes larger than my own. Finding meaning in Your name. Love and peace.
Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it. See Synonyms at pity.
A couple of days ago, I was walking down Portland Road, where I was just about to pass Portland Tower. A homeless person was sat down, cross legged with his rugged, cheap blanket providing what little shelter it could for him. My earphones were nestled in the grooves of my earholes, phat beats, heavy bass and poignant voices declaring their sweet melodies, all for my enjoyment, the music just a filler to pass the time before I arrive under my easy shelter, which I have not had to slave away for.
And I saw him in the corner of my eye. I have seen him before. About a year ago, I sat down and prayed with him, when Thomas took the initiative to sit with him. I have seen him before...and I knew it. Yet, I fed myself the same excuse, playing over and over again in my fragile mind in my moment of indecision, "You need to go home to look after Daniel". I took out my earpiece, so as to hear him out, albeit knowing what he was going to say, I did it out of courtesy. He said what I expected him to say. And I replied with prior calculation, "No, mate. Sorry. I have nothing to spare for you today."
And in his eyes was this glaze of disappointment, resent, sorrow and expectation. Our gaze met for half a second, before he politely nodded his head and sought to find mercy elsewhere.
And it hit me.
Romans 5:5 And Hope does not disappoint, because God poured out His great love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.
My legs were weary and I fought to walk away. Pride, in his desperation, pushed me onwards with rude aggression. Yet hope and the spirit of love slowed my pace to a mere stroll, giving enough time to ponder.
Compassion. To be aware of another's suffering. But don't get me wrong. It is so much more than pity. Where would the world be without compassion? A world without the good Samaritan. Merely people who know how to pity and look DOWN upon those with suffering, whilst suppressing previous memories of pain and ache in our own lives. Without compassion, there is no hope.
And where was the hope for this man? The man whose name was on the tip of my tongue? The man who cannot escape his demons, of potential drug or alcohol abuse, or otherwise? The man who is just like me; undeserving of mercy and grace, yet CAN freely receive?
The white noise of despair blared on as I was about to cross a road. Then a car turned the corner with speed. Beep. Profanity. Spit.
1. An intense, painful feeling of repugnance and fear.
2. Intense dislike; abhorrence.
shock 1(shk)n.
1.
a. A violent collision or impact; a heavy blow. See Synonyms at collision.
b. The effect of such a collision or blow.
2.
a. Something that jars the mind or emotions as if with a violent unexpected blow.
What's my definition of horror? When you get a text telling you that your very own Father is in hospital, reasons unknown to you, condition undisclosed, duration or situation still veiled in mystery.
Shock is when you need a way to find out, yet have no idea who to turn to.
When you think it may be the last time you see him and you were sleeping, like the useless waste of air, space and food you are.
When the stretch of time from where you are, to where you need to be, suddenly grew before your eyes. People board the bus in hoards, as opposed to the initial few that you thought you saw a few moments ago.
Horror, would be my hope being chipped away. My heart broken once more, possibly beyond full repair.
Only to find out, when you open the door, that he's home, asleep, recovering.
My whole day has been a typhoon of shock, coupled with a horror that this was it. It's over.
To be fair, I found out what happened to him at church, when I first received the text. He had a stomach ache and took medication to cure it, but it made him worse. So, nothing too bad...but I'm agitated that my dad didn't tell me what happened. When I interrogated forcefully (obvious exaggeration there!) the aunties and uncles Dad knew at church, they revealed all to me... And that moment of relief came flooding like a collision. It was like a monster constructed from anxiety and despair, gnawing and snarling...all of that, drowned by this rush of safety and direction. I was ready to collapse in a heap of tears and brokenness right there and then. My home...my home is still intact, somehow. By His grace...it's not over yet. I've again experienced the terror that horror brings, when it looms in the dark of your mind, sowing and lurking in areas you haven't prepared for, suddenly to rush at you in an ambush...but this time...grace amazing took him and me home...
As long as I have life left, a breath left in this body, I'm going to remember my blood family as the most important to me. Whether it costs me my limbs, my education, my future or happiness, I'm going to be there for them. I'm not going to let anyone down next time.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
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「€Œ 6:46 am 」 » 
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