Lately I've been thinking about compassion.French writer Marguerite Yourcenar says that compassion "inflicts its knifelike pain only on those who, strong or not, brave or not, intelligent or not (such qualities are beside the point), have been granted the horrible gift of looking the world full in the face and seeing it as it is."
And this quote makes me wonder. Wonder about the times I have really looked the world "full in the face".
Here's a time I remember:
I was teaching on the Navajo Reservation at a Bureau of Indian Affairs Boarding School, and I was there for what seemed like seconds before I fell in love. Head over heels completely in love. Yes, madly in love with twenty-five of the naughtiest boys you have ever encountered. Twenty-five boys ages five to eleven who lived in a dorm and only saw their parents on weekends.
I met those boys, and I learned about suffering when I saw the devastated looks in the eyes of kids whose parents had once again "forgotten" that Friday was pick-up day. I learned about addiction when I met families torn apart by alcoholism and the ugliness that often follows. And I learned about finding joy in a place where joy doesn't easily bloom, when one of my favorite troublemakers stole a box of old and already written out Valentines and shoved one card under my door every morning.
The truth is, if given the opportunity, I probably would have looked away from much of what I saw out in that desert boarding school. However, since I was alone and without a phone, TV, friends, or any other means of escape, I was forced to see the hurt, experience the sadness, and cherish the joy surrounding me.
I knew I was looking into the world "as it was", but I didn’t know that at the same time, I was growing compassion.
What about you? Have you ever "looked at the world full in the face" and later found compassion?
21 comments:
The Navajo Indian Reservation. I had not thought about that in a long time. I remember being there and walking into someone's house and they had only one room and a dirt floor. I used their outhouse. I saw how little they had. I walked away bewildered. I walked away crushed by compassion. Having been away for awhile, the intensity of that compassion seemed to have flittered away, and yet, when I return to that place in my mind, it comes rushing back, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I desire to reach out again.
The Navajos are far away from me, but I know there are others around me who have no floor at all, except the cold, hard concrete. Just this morning during my quiet time, I thought about how my eyes need to be re-opened and perhaps, my kids need to see with new eyes as well. I'm thinking maybe a soup kitchen?
Wonderful experience that you had in Navajo land--I have read quite a bit about that area.
During my policing days, I saw lots of families struggling with violence and tragedy. Seeing a young child trying to overcome the obstacles put everything in perspective.
That must have been an incredible experience. I've never had anything quite like that but I agree that if we just open our eyes, we can find causes for compassion every day.
I think there are many times I choose not to look at the world and truly see it's state because I just cannot stand the "knife like" intensity of what I see. I had always felt God has given me compassionate eyes but the struggle of knowing and truly seeing the state is just too heartbreaking. Right now I am seeing it in a friends life and my heart physically hearts.
Our God breaking our heart for what breaks His. I just cannot imagine how badly our hearts would hurt if we truly saw what He sees. He is so good to us...even when we don't know it.
Great experiences that God has clearly blessed you through. It is good to see the reality that is for so many people, even when its easier to look away.
"Give me your eyes for just one second...."
My heart breaks for all the brokeness that I see around me and that my children are witnesses to it. We live a province where the First Nations are numerous and most live like a 3rd world nation. It hurts when I know we (the Church) are placed here to serve God, but we turn the other way and look down on them and do not assist them.
Thanks everyone for the visit and the words.
Oh, and Jen, I didn't know you spent time on the reservation! I'd like to hear more.
I'm so glad to have found you as well! I can completely relate to this post. The last time I was in Africa, I was by myself on a portion of the trip with just the families in the Bush. No phone, no TV, no friends. Just listening to stories. It was like a wave I didn't see coming. Amazing and heartbreaking all at once. Makes me wonder what I'm missing here with all this extra "noise."
this is really great guts stuff...i love it! it is so, so true...i was planning to write tonight about some of my journey to lots of places growing heart, dying to it, and being continually re-born to compassion for a lifetime...
on a side note: you were one of my first commenters on 'fan the flame'...my journey has been that short and small that i still remember:) you like my henri nouwen quote:)
Mama Abby,
It's funny I just commented on your post, and then thought, wait, I know her! Loved your post today, and excited you are connecting up with the girls at Jen's.
When I lived in Pittsburgh, I'd see homeless people everywhere. I didn't grow up with this; my small town didn't seem to have any. My opinion was always that they must have chosen to live that life, after all I grew up in a low income family but my dad worked 70+ hours a week to make ends meet at horrible jobs where he was abused. I never understood why these homeless people couldn't do the same.
Then I moved to Florida and worked on the beach at a smoothie king. My boss introduced me to a beach bum named Mike. He told me his back story was he had a good job with a wife and two kids. They were killed in a car crash and he just mentally shut down. He couldn't handle life and became an alcoholic. I was always really nice to Mike, I'd give him water or whatever he needed.
Mike has forever changed my viewpoint on the homeless. I no longer look at them as someone who should be working as hard as my dad did but as someone who is broken and in need of compassion.
I'm glad you wrote this piece today.
Amy, This is my favorite post of yours so far. I love this to pieces! I forget how many experiences we've had through the years, and I know how much this one impacted you. Your words paint a vivid picture of those dear boys and the imprint they had on your life.
I need to look at the world "full in the face" more, but I know there have been times that I did see, and it broke my heart. The biggest one is visiting Honduras. I had such a hard time coming back to regular life because of the crazy consumerism in America. It was so hard to sleep in my cozy house and eat too much food and have too much fun when I remembered those children who I knew were still out on the streets begging for food, begging for shoes, begging for love. It's so easy to forget those moments, but thank you for reminding me :)
Far too often I simply keep my eyes closed. I am too weak and afraid to open them wide. Because when you do that, you must react. And that takes action, courage and perseverance.
Great, provoking post, Amy.
I lived in Farmington, NM from 1st-5th grade. When we passed by the reservation, it was always a sad sight. The Navajos looked so broken, even to my childhood eyes.
One of my favorite quotes is: "Be kind for everyone is facing their own battle"-- Victor Hugo.
I think of it when someone cuts me off on the road or when someone is curt in the grocery store. Everyone is facing a battle and needs our compassion.
Thank you for sharing your memories and reminding us all that destitute poverty is a reality in America!
wow, this post...Amy, when you talk about that there was no outside influence that the focus became so strong towards these kids. We get so distracted with things the Lord dosen't even put or want in our path, Satan uses these things to DISTRACT so that we may not FOCUS! This is such a good word. I loved the part about the valentine under the door. It just shows how if we put the time in...
What a touching post. The story about the stolen Valentines being slipped under your door was both sweet and sad. How lucky these kids were to have you in their lives.
This sounds like a great experience. When we see sadness and emptyness in the lives of others, we would have to be a rock with no feelings and compassion. i realize that not everyone can feel comfortable with certain situations,but we need to see, try to understand, and help in any way. along with compassion comes dignity. i believe we must show dignity to those we offer compassion. thanks rose
Amy, this is such a powerful reminder. I love that a little guy stole the Valentine cards and left one for you each day...It breaks my heart and fills me with joy at the same time - that he took the risk to steal something to express his need for your love, your acceptance. I would love to experience this someday.
Beautifully written, dear one.
Natalie at Mommy on Fire
http://www.mommyonfire.com
What a great experience and reminder to take the blinders off and look at life as it is. So hard to do, but God must want us to deal with life in its reality. Beautiful post Amy.
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