Embed in every conversation is a message and cry for help. It can for the simple things of life or more desperate straights.
Yesterday I heard of a casual friend who has, in just a few years, gone from a comfortable, stable, and productive lifestyle to struggling physically, out of a job, and increasingly financially destitute. As the network of friends wonder, the blunt, harsh, and cruel facts are now coming on display.
There is a call to be made to a friend who is dying. I have not yet been able to summon the courage to make it for reasons that I do not even understand. I know that it would be hard for her, so I rationalize my lack of involvement. I struggle with my inability to find any words to say, and the call remains unmade.
Millie is Whitney’s age. Molly lives nearby in the same English village. Molly also disappeared over a month ago without a trace as she came home from school. What does one say to anyone Molly’s age about the pain that ever parent faces?
“If you stop your ears to the cries of the poor, your cries will go unheard, unanswered.” (Proverbs 21.13)
Yesterday I received a card from an old friend I have not spoken to in years. The card had been misplaced in the office and it took months for the card to finally arrive at its intended destination. I started to write and then took the unusual step to call. As we caught up on events and happenings in our lives I could feel a sense of hope and brightness filling my life. I know I did not go seeking encouragement but that is what I received.
I look and see people in pain. My pattern is to block and hide from the realities of life. I want to enjoy my day. Give me light not despair and gloom. We live in a real work that has both. I have words of hope, full of mercy, acceptance, and love to give away. Will I?
