#26. Compassion hurts.

 "You want me to share in your affliction, but you never shared in mine...

I've been suffering for much longer, and so I know what pain is." 

-Arlequin, from Marivaux's L'Ile des Esclaves (The Island of Slaves, 1725)

Imagine an island where the roles of Master and Slave are inversed. This is the set-up in Marivaux's 1725 play, in which descendants of slaves who formed their own island colony decide to teach a lesson to any slave owners who should happen upon their community. Thus when Iphicrate, slave owner, and Arlequin, slave, find themselves shipwrecked on the island, Arlequin has his first taste of freedom, and Iphicrate, his first taste of slavery.

Arlequin suddenly finds himself, for the first time in his life, in a place of position, of privilege, of power. What would you imagine that he does with it? As can perhaps be expected, at first he enjoys it! But when his former master begs for mercy, he grants it. Why?

Because unlike his former master, who never showed true compassion, the new Master Arlequin knows what it's like to be a slave and to suffer. He lived that way his whole life, and so even though Iphicrate has barely had a taste of slavery, Arlequin can't allow him to continue suffering. And now that Iphicrate has (literally) walked in his slave's shoes, upon regaining his position, he will never treat Arlequin the same way again.

This is compassion; this is empathy: truly understanding someone else's experience. Not assuming we know what it's like, not trying to justify it because we had good intentions. Arlequin's master believed that he genuinely loved his slave and treated him as a member of the family. But that is never how Arlequin felt, and once Iphicrate has spent some time as a slave, he finally feels it, too. 

My organization recently held an internal discussion on race and racism, and as our president pointed out, if anyone is in pain and I can't understand why, the onus is on me to try to figure it out! It's not their job to justify their hurt. So, the next time my sister or brother tells me they are in pain, will I try to explain it away to make myself feel better? Or will I just listen--really listen--and do everything in my power to try to understand? That is true compassion. And it hurts.

#22. I Have a Split Personality.

I spent a lot of time last week looking through old pictures, and as I did so, I had a strange feeling--like I almost didn't recognize myself.

Who is this girl?

This girl--let's call her Emily--is a full-time teacher and Bible study leader in the US.  She has a different activity almost every night of the week.  She goes to hockey games, DVR's Criminal Minds, surfs the Internet for fun science experiments, drinks Dr. Pepper, and always wins at Mad Gab.  She has the best friends in the world.

Yes, that is a donut.
Not everything has changed. :)

This girl--let's call her Emilie--is still trying to find her place a bit in France and has lots of free time.  She sounds like a kid when she speaks, she struggles to pray out loud, she never drives anywhere, and she has to wait until the weekend to talk to her friends in the US.  But she has also made friends from all over the world and can communicate with people who don't speak English at all.  She watches Cyprien videos on YouTube, drinks wine, eats fish(!), and surfs the Internet for fun English ideas.

I wish there was a way for all of the people I love on both sides of the ocean to meet both parts of me, but I don't even think I could adequately explain.  I was, however, able to come pretty close when my parents came to visit a few weeks ago.  They already know Emily better than most people, and they got to spend a few days with Emilie, too.  It was incredibly refreshing to have this time with them, and of course to see them in person after 7 months!

I thought it might be hard when they left, but I actually felt ok.  I really am happy here.  Now I'm starting to make plans to return to the US for the first time since I left, and that makes me both excited and nervous.  Everyone there will be expecting the same Emily to return, but that's not entirely who I am anymore.  What will this Emilie feel like when she makes her first visit to the US?  What things will she see differently?  What things that used to feel comfortable and familiar no longer will?

This cross-cultural living business is no joke.  I spent yesterday with two lovely boys (ages 2 and 5) that I would not have had the chance to meet if I wasn't living here in Lille.  Meanwhile, one of my best friends in the US has a new baby that  I haven't met yet!  And the kids I do know are growing up and changing so quickly that they probably won't even remember me the next time I see them.  But I am grateful for the opportunity to know and love people both here and there, even though that means my heart has to be divided, too (see also You Can Serve God with a Broken Heart).  And I'm even more grateful that when I feel out of place, I can remember that my true citizenship is not in either one of these countries, but in heaven (Philippians 3:20).

"...They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them."

-Hebrews 11:13-16

#3. You Can Serve God with a Broken Heart

I used to think getting your heart broken was a bad thing.  It’s painful, and you never really get over it, right?  So I tried to avoid it.  And with God’s help, I did.  Until about 2 years ago.
               
That’s when I took my first short-term mission trip to France.  And coming back, I left a little piece of my heart behind.  I’d read about France, I’d known people who lived there, but after visiting myself, opening up to what God had to show me there, and building meaningful relationships, it hurt a lot when I came back home.  Of course, if I’d stayed there forever, then I would have left a larger chunk of my heart back home. 

Leaving behind a piece of my heart was painful, and I never really did get over it.  But that was actually a good thing.  Because all year long, I kept thinking about France.  I thought about the people I had met there and the ones I hadn’t.  I prayed for them, and I prayed that God would give me another opportunity to go back.  And He did!  So, on my second visit to France, I was able to experience the joy of being “reconnected” with that piece of myself that had been left behind.  If I hadn’t had my heart broken that first time, the reunion there would not have been so sweet.

My second heart break was not so sweet.  This one was really painful, and still is.  I’d been wrestling with my singleness for quite a while and had come to a place of true peace about it (see Thing #1).  But then God brought someone into my life who had the potential to change that.  It seemed so out of the blue, and I was confused and scared at first.  I wasn’t quite sure how to mesh together what God had already been teaching me about singleness with what He seemed to be teaching me now.  It took some time, but slowly and surely I began to open up to what God was teaching me about Himself through this other person.  Then, just as quickly as it came, that relationship was gone, and I was left feeling—once again—confused, scared, and unsure about what God was trying to show me.

A few weeks later, I attended the Bible Study Fellowship leaders’ retreat in Milwaukee, where I heard Director of Training Melinda Burnette speak about her time as a Foreign Resident Ambassador in Jos, Nigeria and Bangkok, Thailand.  She said that after leaving Nigeria, Thailand was where she learned that:  “You can serve God with a broken heart.”  Those words really resonated with me. 

We suffer greatly in our fallen world because of sin, and pain was not a part of God’s perfect creation.  One day, we’ll finally be free from it (Revelation21:4).  But until then, God can use pain and heartache to teach us more about Himself and to be better ambassadors of His love and mercy to others.  I realized that giving in to the pain, doubt, and fear is exactly what the Enemy wanted me to do.  And trying to push it down or ignore it isn’t victory.  But our God is so much bigger than whatever circumstances we may face, and we can show this to the world by combatting the Enemy’s lies with God’s truth.  (Matthew 4:1-11; 2 Corinthians 10:4-5)

As I began to see this unfolding in my own life, God broke my heart in a new way:  for Him.  Everywhere I look, I see the path of destruction left by sin.  So many people in the world are hurting, REALLY hurting, much more than me.  I am just a tiny part of God’s sovereign plan, and I’m privileged that He wants to use me, despite my many failings.  I want to focus less on myself and more on others who need to hear about the love, mercy, and healing that can only come from Him.  It took having my heart broken in order for me to see this.   Who knows?  Maybe more heart breaks are coming.  What I can say for sure is that God, Jehovah Rapha, the Lord That Heals, is still sovereign, and that He has shown me that I can indeed serve Him with a broken heart.  In fact, I think He prefers it that way.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”  -Psalm 51:17

Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like You have loved me
Break my heart for what breaks Yours
Everything I am for Your Kingdom’s cause
As I walk from earth into eternity.
-Hosanna by Hillsong United