.: who cares :.

Relationships have a funny way of teaching you lessons about the extremities of life. One of the hardest things that I so often find myself confronted by is the internal anxiety I experience when someone I care about is either making poor decisions, or is immersed in some difficult situation. It is as if I am weighted down by some state of affairs that I didn't even have the pleasure of getting myself into. And in the attempts to try and relieve the tension that begins to build in me (in terms of wanting to do something, say something, change something, etc.), I have really found the best method to be to just stopping caring. It really is that simple! That other person loses the ability to tug upon my heartstrings by me simply resolving to not be concerned with their situation or place in this world. You see, as soon as I choose to no longer care about the circumstances of another individual, it is no longer my problem. I no longer have to bear the pressure that comes with that specific situation. I can escape any and all resulting inner turmoil by cutting all ties with them relationally (in terms of limiting their ability to cause me to suffer by their actions and condition). By doing that, I deliberately choose to no longer make it my problem.

So a member of my family wants to head down a path that I know has all kinds of warnings about its consequences, but he chooses to ignore them and continue blazing his newfound trail (this is for the sake of illustration - I am not speaking of a real situation here). I don't have to let him emotionally drag me down that path with him by pulling my interests out of that whole situation, and allowing my deepest concerns to grow numb for the sake of saving myself any grief. My close friend finds herself at a point in her life where by her subsequent choices, or even her general demeanor, begins to wound me in ways beyond describing. I can find a quick solution by deciding in my heart to just not allow her that privilege of cutting me so deep by creating a space between her actions and my response through deadening that part of me that was built to care about others. And the methods of such emotional anesthetizing come in all sorts of forms, whether through actual objects (drugs, alcohol, exercise, food, movies, sex, etc. - just take your pick!), or even inward attitudes and rash commitments made towards such ends (feelings that form phrases like "I could not care less", or "She is on her own", or "Who gives a rip? It won't affect me!"). In fact, the phrase that so often slips from the lips of well-meaning Christians is "I will pray for you!" Even this glib adage allows us at times to separate ourselves from the situations of others.

To be honest with you, there are days, weeks, even months, where such alternatives to bearing such emotional weight feels so tremendously tempting, especially because it keeps me safe and protected. I can keep myself out of harm's way (at least that which "life" so often seems to dump on me) by walking away from the problems of others. And how could anyone even blame me, for I have problems of my own to deal with? But can I do it? Can I choose to not let the weaknesses of others sway my own disposition by restraining my desire to be relationally vulnerable towards them? The only fundamental problem with this whole "plan of escape" lies at the very heart of what it means to be a part of the Body of Christ. The only thing keeping me from embracing such a "careless" approach towards others is because of what it means for me to have put on the "new self" (Ephesians 4:24). The writer of Galatians calls us in 6:2 to "carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ" (i.e., what God is after in the long run). And the whole point of this is not because I necessarily owe it to that person, but essentially it is because this is the very thing I have been called to do as a Christian.

Christ tells us that the greatest tool of evangelism that we have as His followers is that of love. And what greatest expression of love is there then to share a load with someone else that we find to be crushing them? Needless to say, this is especially tricky when the person being overwhelmed (or even facing eventual crushing) doesn't want our help. But even (read: especially) in these situations, the most powerful thing that we can offer is something greater than just words shouted from a distance; it is ourselves. We must stand the risk of incredible pain and a sense of sorrow if we are to ever offer others loving comfort and sustaining hope. We all face test and trials of various depths and costly results, and that is the very reason why we must be committed to caring for each other. None of us is alone in this journey we call "life". We have been beckoned to become servants and supporters to each other. May God allow us as to be given over to such a way of relating and living, in which we choose to not abandon each other midway through the adventure that we set out on the day we were born!