Tears. Hot, passionate, hurtful tears. Each one of my children struggled today, from the first little one walking home from the bus to my oldest crawling in bed at 11:00 p.m. I listened to each one’s story. Each one wrestling with their own trials.
Compassion has not been a strong suit in my life. I started reading a book yesterday called “Discovering your God-given Gifts” and I am pretty sure compassion won’t be one of mine. I often approach problems with a “stuck it up and get through it” attitude. But yesterday, that is not what my children needed. They needed me to hug them and ask if I could call and chat with a teacher. They needed me to to hug them and get out a calculator and try to figure out math problems that I haven’t done for 30+ years. They needed me to listen as they poured out their heart of a teenager in a toxic society – a world gone mad. It is so easy for me to get wrapped up in my world – the goings on in my day – and look right past the pains of those who silently carry their backpacks; backpacks sometimes filled with anxiety, stress and fear.
Lord, help me today to “carry one another’s burdens” like Galatians 6:2 calls me to. Help me to pray, hug, listen, kiss and remember what it is like to be one of your’s in the thick of the battle of growing up. Lord, help me to remember the tears that fall on my shoulder and not forget to hold them up today.