As you’ve probably figured out I think a lot, and about random things. I reflect on things I see around me, and question them, their purpose, or maybe what I should do with it. Most of these things intrigue me. I try to ‘smell the roses’, to see the beauty in life and appreciate the gift of each day.
But there are times when the world around me takes on a different light, when other things draw my attention. Things like my friends going through difficult times, illnesses, wait lists for surgery. Losses, brokenness, emptiness.
It breaks my heart to see friends going through these things, wishing I could do something.
Then there are things further, things in my city, province, country, and the world, that I cannot control, that feel like they’re spiraling out of control. We hear about these atrocities in the news, maybe coming as tales from far away places that are so different than where we live.
But they’re not. The same hatred that wreaks havoc there wreaks havoc here. It just looks a little different. We may turn a blind eye to it overseas, walk away from the stranger, but it’s a lot more difficult to ignore it in our own circle.
And sometimes it overwhelms. It all comes to the surface at the same time and I wonder what we are to do? How can we ever make a difference? How will things ever change?
But tonight God spoke to me. He said he never asked me to change the world. What I need to do is look at what’s right in front of me. Those who he brings are those who I am to work a change in. It is only then will we change the world, one at a time.
When we realise this, that it’s not up to us to change the world, then it becomes more bearable. We don’t have to worry about it all, only what is given to us. As we make these changes one by one for the better, over time we will have a large impact, like the ripples in the water from one small pebble.
I feel the very same. It is so difficult to absorb the atrocities for example, that the Indigenous peoples are now grieving, the loss of generations of family members to something the had no control over. And my response. I grieve with these people I don’t even know, and feel so terribly helpless. But when I consider the person right in front of me (in my case a cousin’s Indigenous wife, and another lady I know from church) I can hold them or talk to them and let them know I’m listening.
Yes, it’s truly heartbreaking. But we can make a difference one person at a time, holding them and listening to them, affirming them and how they feel.