You never know what you’re going to learn, or how good things can be when they don’t seem very good.
Last Saturday, Joseph was sick. He woke up at about midnight puking. I mean lots. I have no idea where he was keeping it all. One of his dresser drawers was half-open, and of course, he yacked there. I put him in bed with us and he spewed 2 more times. Poor little guy.
Well, he was fine by next morning, eating some banana and toast. He was curled up to me a little later and I said, “well, one good thing that comes from all this is that when you’re sick you’re extra snuggly!” He looked at me and said, “Another good thing is I was frowing up and you took care of me.”
I just laid there and hugged him more. It seems that sometimes we can break through and recognize that this a bad world, not our place. And we know things will be tough—from the aggravation of a stomach bug to real suffering and death. And yet, we pray that God fills us with compassion, that we don’t walk by, that we don’t just keep living our lives. We stop, pray, love, minister, and let suffering open up paths for mercy.
A long-time member of the church received news that he has terminal cancer. As the family gathered around the bed, there was a lot of sadness and the confusion that comes from wondering what are you supposed to do or think? He said simply, almost as if he did not understand the fuss, “You knew I wasn’t going to live forever.”
He is just stone-faced about it. Not set like flint, as if he endures some uncommon trial. He was in church the Sunday after the bad news, and we just rejoiced to know that he lives in triumph. He is a Methodist, and we have no fear of death. [I have seen the peace of the Gospel among the dying too many times to dispute it. It is the gift of those who believe. Not resignation to fact, but faith in the Living God] He has assurance of Jesus. He had no false hopes for this life, only the promises of Jesus for this life and the life to come.
He wants to keep reading the Scriptures I read to him, Psalm 50:9-12 and Philippians 3, esp v. 20-21.
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Well, you know by now that I don't agree that this world is bad. I think I can see some common ground here, though, just in the idea that real awareness of the pain and unpleasantness of life in the world, in a body of flesh, can be a doorway to shedding one's attachment to a body that dies and to a material world that is impermanent. I definitely would agree that there is no true happiness in material things, only in compassion. And I agree that when we see the cause of our own suffering that can be a powerful tool for learning to have compassion for the suffering of others. I would argue there's a subtle difference between all that and saying the world is bad though. I still wonder if that's really what you think...
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