The woman said, “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.” Then Jesus declared, “I, the one speaking to you—I am he.”
-John 4:25-26
I am cleaved cleanly in half by hope and despair. Through the coffee shop window preschoolers are heading out to play without masks. They have been masked for months and my optimism swells that the world might be growing sane. Inside, moments later, two men are yelling at each other over a takeout order. The tensions among the lunch crowd flare into my brain. Two women laughing with love are an aberration in the miasma of…what? What is driving almost everyone into this ugly state?
I must remember to be in the world, but not of it. This is a fallen and disasterous place. Not beyond redemption, but covered in sin.
I cannot begin to grasp how Jesus felt the people around him so deeply. I am terrified by compassion. I let it drag me down and anger me. I’m careful about who I let close, but being around too many people can quickly become overwhelming.
My bravery is in no longer shutting it off: no more self medication, no more callousness, and no more running away. Jesus is my model. He faced and died for all the pain of the world. I can probably handle a busy coffee shop.
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