Oh hey look I still have a blog. Weird.
I feel very blog-y lately, probably because I had to start blogging for class. Also, I feel okay bearing part of my soul on this type of page because it's slightly more organized instead of partial thoughts being scattered throughout notebooks, word documents, phone memos, iPad notes, etc. Plus since no one REALLY pays attention, I figured what the heck?
So I've decided that it's okay to be sad for people. I mean we're called to mourn with those who mourn, right?
So, what if we're mourning for someone who isn't mourning? Are we happy for them even if it's for something we would be sad for? Am I being vague? Good.
I'm a very overly compassionate person. My super snarky outer shell doesn't always give me away, but it's true. I feel very deeply and very passionately and very much for people.
What happens when compassion gets out of hand? What happens when you try to fix people? What happens when you try to solve problems that aren't yours to solve? What happens when you start trying to do God's job for Him? Do you know the answer?
Well, I do.
You fail.
You fail because you are not God. I cannot save anyone. I cannot fix anyone or anything. It is not my responsibility to convince people of something that can't be perceived by mere logic. I just can't.
So what can I do? Well, I can still love people. But what does that even look like?
Every time I ask myself this question I go back to 1 Corinthians 13: patient, kind, not envying, not boastful, humble, does not dishonor, selfless, even-tempered, keeps no record of wrongs, does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth, always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres.
I'm here to tell you that I suck at this. I don't like to wait, I'm easily angered, I hold grudges, and I'm proud.
One of the most painful things I have experienced is someone I love so dearly turning from God. I guess you could say I've taken it personally. It's devastating to know the most powerful and wonderful hope and love, and watch as your loved one gets lost in confusion and doesn't want to believe that a hope like this could be real.
So what's compassion both for a person's expressed struggles and pain, and for the implicit things like not having hope look like? Heck if I know. But I'm trudging full speed ahead through the craziness of discovering what it looks like to love like Jesus every day. I know I'll never learn everything there is to know, but I'm confident that the One who knows it all lives in me and shows me His grace every day, and that's good enough for me.
I will always have compassion, and I will try to go where God leads.
This is all very random, but sorry not sorry.
