Can a Heart be too Soft?

I've been pondering this question all day. My last post spoke of a woman who loves deeply. It was a challenge to open our hearts and allow ourselves to genuinely love those around us. I shared in the essay, that my ability to love deeply has been both my greatest strength and my greatest weakness. I find this to be true once again in my life.

My time in Haiti was busy, active, and fruitful. While with the people, seeing the devastation, and hearing the children's stories, I experienced a supernatural grace. I never cried. Though I felt tears inside, I was able to focus on the moment and how God might wish to comfort, help, or bring a smile. I've seen incredible suffering in my travels and heard other painful stories...women abducted in northern Uganda as children, forced to murder their parents and given to the soldiers in Joseph Kony's army and shared memories of the genocide in Rwanda. I've held children dying in the hospitals of Haiti and the Philippines. My first funeral I conducted here at home as a pastor was for a stillborn baby. Always, I have reached for and found God's incredible grace to see Him in the moment.

This trip has been different for me. Perhaps because I seem to be battling a parasite that invaded my stomach on the trip (Fun!), but it's more than that. My heart hurts. Coming home was hard this time. Our needs here are so real and I am very aware of the pain so many are experiencing...but the need of Haiti plays like a movie in my mind. I pray and give each hungry child and homeless person to my Father everyday, but my heart still aches for them. The thought came this morning that I should "toughen up" and guard my heart more. If I loved a little less, I could forget the need and distance from the suffering. When I look at my beautiful family, wonderful husband, and precious friendships here, it seems wrong to grieve for Haiti. I am so very, very blessed!

Then I thought of Jesus. How grateful I am that He didn't choose to forget our need or distance Himself from our sin and suffering. He was willing to leave the glory of heaven to come to our aid. And not once do I read of Him guarding His heart from compassion. It was His ability to love deeply, to feel what we feel, that compelled Him to help. Compassion was His motivation for healing, feeding, praying, teaching, dying, and resurrecting. But compassion came with a cost.

I love the pictures and films of a laughing Jesus and believe that He is joy! But I also know that He weeps with those who weep. He still loves just as deeply as He did before. Sharing His great love might mean sometmes feeling what the world feels...even when our flesh wants to resist. Even while writing my scattered thoughts here, I'm beginning to understand. I don't have to apologize or be ashamed of my tears for Haiti...or for the martyred women and children in central Nigeria...or for a wounded pastor in Rwanda. Feeling their need isn't the problem - its what I do with it.

My love meter can burst at times and send me in a million directions trying to help. (Smile - I'm sure none of you can relate.) If I focus only on the need of others, I lose my joy and perspective. The challenge is to allow myself to embrace compassion without letting it overwhelm me. Dwelling on the need accomplishes nothing. It is only as I allow compassion to set me on the path to prayer and Spirit-led action that I am able to maintain peace and enjoy the sweetness of my own God-given life.

This blog is supposed to be a source of help and encouragement to my sisters around the world. I fear that today it has been more of a venting place for me. I guess I needed all of you today. I need my family. I need to know we're in this walk together, sharing the same love, and standing as one. No one likes to cry alone, just as no one truly enjoys celebrating alone. I ask for your prayers. There are so many open doors and God has been so good to me. I am entering a busy season of life and, despite the somber tone of this post, I am fulfilled and happier than I've been in years. I know that in order to partner with Christ in His local and global ministry will require a greater connectedness with His heart and compassion. I want to let my self-protective guards down and allow His Spirit to make me more aware of the need around me. Then I simply want to be a part of what He is doing to bring change.

The media rarely mentions Haiti now. The earthquake in Chile was a sidebar note on MSN. Have you ever wondered why it's that way? It's because human nature resists sad stories. We like them for a moment, but we want the happy ending. If we can't get to a happy ending quickly, we divert attention elsewhere. Think about the war in Iraq or Afganistan - how often do we think of those still fighting? If we can't "fix" it, we don't want to know it's "broken." Christ calls us to a compassion that does not forget and refuses to quit until the happy ending, no matter how long it takes. I'm living proof of that. His compassion held on through all of my struggles as a young woman. He stuck with me until He made my life a happy ending that He continues to perfect today.

Sitting here I am once again renewing my commitment to Christ's compassion. I am setting my heart and face to Michigan in the USA, to Haiti, Nigeria, and all the nations God has called Ron and I to. I won't let the need overwhelm me, but I will let myself feel with you. I won't quit on you. I won't forget. I'm following our Father to participate in the good things He has planned for you. I'm sticking around to enjoy the happy ending!