Broken Empath

Earlier I posted about a young man who regularly "tags" the bridge near our house. I saw him out and about again the other day and then saw this newly painted message - "broken empath." It struck me because I've been thinking a lot about how important it is to be able to walk in people's shoes, so to speak. To feel what they're going through and seek to understand why they do what they do. To be empathic.

But what happens when our ability to do this is broken? Maybe we've felt people's pain or brokenness so deeply that it's pushed us to our limits and we cannot go to that place anymore.

I don't have any clean and tidy answers to that question. I am constantly encountering brokenness in others but whenever I'm tempted to feel more together I'm reminded of my latest or greatest faults and the empathy flows in bucket loads.

I've been in that place of being a "broken empath" as well. It was a dark place, where all I could think of was survival and holding back from hurting myself or others. When everyone around feels like an enemy or indifferent, it's difficult to know up from down. Thankfully the one Constant in my life was exactly that and He gently showed me the diamonds in the rough until I could trust again.

We all have our strengths and blaring weaknesses but if we're going to do anything together with others in this world we need to know those diamonds are worth all the cuts and bruises it takes to find them.

Whose Plants are They?

Wow, what a year! It was May 2017 that the decision was made - Ken and I would be stepping into the senior pastor role at our church. For 18+ years we had been involved in ministry with university students, sharing about the impact a relationship with Jesus can have in your day to day life, taking Biblical principles and helping students apply them to their relationships, concerns, dreams, and ideas about the world.

Throughout the years our time on campus hasn't correlated much with the church we have loved and served simultaneously. The students have come and gone; to other churches and other nations. I remember a dream I had once where I was looking at boxes of vegetables from my garden. People were coming and taking the vegies and I said to God "I thought they were mine". When I woke up, God made it clear to me that the time, emotions, and resources I'd invested in those people was bearing fruit all over my city and other nations. They were never mine to own. That was enough for me to know.

I have carried that perspective with me ever since. I refuse to convince people they need to go to my church or serve my ministry. I will continue to love and serve students, pouring out the life and testimony of encounters with Jesus and His Word wherever I am.