Suffering

Every Tuesday night our team has a worship session. It is a combination of music, scripture, prayer, and usually a brief message. Each one is based on one of nine themes:

• Brokenness
• Community
• Humility
• Intimacy
• Obedience
• Service
• Simplicity
• Submission
• Suffering

Last night's theme was suffering. I can't possibly go into all the details of our worship time, but it was really a good time for me to remember and refocus on suffering. There are many Godly aspects of suffering, but they all have to start and end with Christ's suffering. Kristin asked me to read a poem she had written out of the Winter 2004 issue of The Cry. Kristin works with the women of the red light district in Kolkata. Her poem isn't a cry to free the women (although certainly that is also in God's heart), rather she just asks Jesus to come and weep over what has happened to the women. It is in God's heart to mourn and suffer along side with us.

Just as Jesus suffers alongside of us, He is calling me to do the same for those around me. I realized once again how hard and selfish my heart is. I see so much poverty, suffering, and death around me every day in Kolkata. Yet I keep myself at a distance from all of it both emotionally and spiritually. If I have a concrete answer to a problem, then I may try to help, but most days I refuse to enter into the suffering of those around me. In particular, I realized how this has been affecting me at Nabo Jibon. I go every day and spend time with some combination of mentally handicapped boys, and men who are ill and/or dying. I choose to spend time with those that are easier to deal with. I have avoided the man with one shoulder swollen up to the size of a bowling ball. It is uncomfortable to look at him. Today I sat briefly with a man who can only barely move (neck injury I think) and whose fingers all bend the wrong way at the middle joint. Several of us were gathered around as he sang a song in Hindi. Yet my mind was stuck on my own discomfort from looking at him. In fact, my biggest worries at Nabo Jibon have all been about me: Is that kid's hand clean? Why did he just spit on me? Am I in danger of catching TB?

This needs to change. I need to learn how to enter into their suffering and share it with them. I don't have the power to heal them physically, but God has given me both the power and job of suffering along side of them, to let them know that they are not alone or forgotten, but that they are loved.

I want to close by sharing a prayer that was posted in Kalighat, Mother Teresa's original home for the dying:

DEAR LORD, THE GREAT HEALER,
I KNEEL BEFORE YOU,
SINCE EVERY GOOD AND PERFECT GIFT
MUST COME FROM YOU.
I PRAY, GIVE SKILL TO MY HAND,
CLEAR VISION TO MY MIND,
KINDNESS AND SYMPATHY TO MY HEART;
GIVE ME THE SINGLENESS OF PURPOSE,
STRENGTH TO LIFT AT LEAST A PART OF THE
BURDEN OF MY SUFFERING FELLOWMEN,
AND A TRUE REALIZATION OF THE
PRIVILEGE THAT IS MINE.
TAKE FROM MY HEART ALL GUILE
AND WORLDLINESS THAT WITH THE SIMPLE
FAITH OF A CHILD I MAY RELY ON YOU.