Monday, February 2, 2015




Do you ever wish you didn’t care?

I do.

I get tired of caring so much, for things people tell me aren’t worth it or aren’t my  responsibility or aren’t really as bad as I think they are.

Like when Sam is trying to pick out a movie and I veto half of them because I can’t stand to watch evil, violence, and gore—I wish I was more normal and didn’t care about that.

Or when the Seahawks lose the Super Bowl by mere inches and I know how heartbroken they must feel, how much disappointment and anger and guilt and blame they’ll have to deal with now—I wish I was less sensitive and didn’t care about that. (And I felt the same way about the Green Bay Packers when the Seahawks upset their victory two weeks ago.)

Or when good people stand up for the right thing and only to be ripped apart by the hungry appetites of a wicked and cruel people that cannot tolerate the sight of anything honorable lifted up—I wish I could look away and not care about that.

When my brothers and sisters are hurt or confused, when my mom and dad are worn out, when everything seems to be changing and none of it for the better—sometimes I feel so very sad, and I can’t explain why, except that when I’m tired the caring gets so much harder and everything seems wrong with this world and it would be nice to take the easy route and just shut down all emotional processes.

But this is not God’s way with us…

“When Israel was a youth I loved him, and out of Egypt I called My son. . . . It is I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them in My arms; but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with the cords of a man, with bonds of love, and I became to them as one who lifts the yoke from their jaws; and I bent down and fed them. . . . My people are bent on turning from Me. Though they call them to the One on high, none at all exalts Him. How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I surrender you, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart is turned over within Me, all My compassions are kindled.”
Hosea 11:1, 3-4, 7-8

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were unwilling. Behold, your house is being left to you desolate!”
Matthew 23:37-38

The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.”
2 Peter 3:9

We grieve Him every day, yet He is compassionate. He weeps over us. He waits patiently for us. He does not see only our present flaws but our future flawlessness in glory.

I would do well to look at the world the same way: darkened by wickedness, but temporary—waiting to be made new.

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