His Works, Not Mine
Recent times have brought up an intense period of understanding the difficulties that I and those close to me are going through at the moment. I’ve come to see a dear friend end a relationship barely a few months before the wedding; another friend struggling to make a decision that would essentially end one chapter of her life and start another; I see both my parents trying to come to terms with the situation that they currently find themselves in; I see myself desperately trying to make sense of my life and the path I hope to chart.
The past weekend made me come to a disturbing but necessary realisation of myself. Despite all that I have done in my life and the ’so-called’ contributions and participation in my various activities, I actually am not able to empathise with others in a manner consistent with my self-proclaimed principles. Two conflicts in a matter of two days, one full-blown and one much more subtle, brought to light the fact that while I claim it important and imperative for each one of us to understand the suffering and difficulties of others, I myself was not very capable of doing so. The concept of being strong for someone else is not one of my strong points. I’ve always thought that when the time comes, I would be able to do so effortlessly. After all, I’ve listened to so many people share their lives with me. How difficult could it be to just ‘be’ there for someone else and share their pain?
It was extremely difficult. And I admit that often enough during that time, I showed my displeasure and frustration at having to bear someone else’s burden. It didn’t make sense that because of the choices and mistakes of others, I had to sacrifice my time and energy to help them resolve the issues. It was tiring when the onus was on me to be there just because I was the most convenient person at the time. It hurt me that I was expected to do what needed to be done, just because. It angered me to be the casualty of war.
It was a painful moment after speaking to Melanie that made me come to that realisation. And it bothered me. In a way it still bothers me. I know that it will take time for me to find a way to do something about it. And due to my own temperament, I may not be able to do what I greatly desire to do, to learn to be truly empathetic towards others. But I know I want to at least try to do so. I know I want to at least make the effort.
Two articles I read recently strengthen me on this journey of mine. The first was from an article in The Herald titled Our Reason For Hope. Allow me to paraphrase this wonderful article since it is too long to be reproduced in its entirety:
Most of the time, we are not broken. We are just messy. Quite often we go about things in the wrong way. Quite often we approach God on our terms instead of his. Quite often we zig-zag in our approach to our final union with Him. Sometimes we think we are wonderful Christians, fantastic Catholics, when actually we are quite distorted. God sees us as we are, sees our messy spirituality, and still loves us.
In the movie, The Music Man, in the final scene, a group of children give their first band performance for their parents. They are horrible. It is a complete disaster, a cacophony. But their parents think they are wonderful. To their parents they are a fantastic marching band playing ‘Seventy-six Trombones.’ When you watch the movie, you first laugh at the band and the parents, then you realise that they are all trying their best.
God is like the people in the vast audiences. God hears the cacophony, but also sees the determined effort. The results may be messy, but the Loving Father joins the parents saying, “Wasn’t that just wonderful?”
We have a reason for hope. That reason is Jesus Christ. He loves us more than we can possibly imagine, each of us. He is not concerned with whether we produce the perfect result. He is overjoyed that we are trying to produce the perfect result. You and I have to have enough humility to have a good laugh at ourselves every now and then. We have to trust in God to help us clean up the mess of our lives.
No matter what happened in the past. No matter what crises we are dealing with right now. No matter what we might face in the future, we have reason for hope. And if anyone comes to us and says, “How can you be so optimistic?” We respond, “The Love of the Lord is real for us. May his love also be real for you.”
The second comes for The Word Among Us which contains an article about St. Camillus, the saint of the first Red Cross society. It speaks of St. Camillus starting of his early years as a wild teenager, rushing off into the army and basically doing everything wrong. The paragraphs below come from a point in his life after his conversion, when he still felt himself unworthy:
Twice in those challenging early years, Camillus heard Jesus encouraging him to persevere: “Why are you troubled, you coward? Go on and I will help you, for this is my work and not yours.”
Camillus was keenly aware of his faults and sincerely believed that he was a great and undeserving sinner. At the same time, he had absolute confidence in the Father’s mercy, revealed in Jesus’ death.
And so, I the coward, trusting in His great mercy and love, continue to do His work. I may not know exactly what I need to do, but it is the only one that makes sense.
