Walking Wounded

Her day was filled with errands and appointments. Throughout the day she encountered so many interesting people along the way. Some she knew . . . some she didn't. Rarely a "shy" person she had brief conversations with people throughout the day. Yet as the day progressed she was tired and a little less eager to engage in conversation. Thoughts from the conversations with the doctors filled her mind and she just needed some quiet time to think.

Her final errand of the day was to do the "big" grocery shop. Making her way through the aisles she retreated within herself . . . her thoughts . . . her concerns. She acknowledged others around her with a brief nod or smile, but tried to avoid conversation. Her thoughts--her worries--were her own.

Coming around a corner she saw another woman in the same space she was about to occupy. Stopping abruptly, she apologized for almost hitting the woman. When she looked up, it was obvious the woman was in pain--white knuckled hands gripped the handle of the cart, sweat on her upper lip, furrowed brow, eyes dull with pain, slightly gasping for air, and holding herself so tightly that she seemed about to break if she moved. The woman glanced about trying to see if she would maneuver her cart without having to turn her body. Pain radiated from every pore of her body.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay? You seem to be in pain." With those few words the woman looked up at her and her story poured out of her. The physical pain she was in was overwhelming her, yet more than anything, she needed someone to listen. They stood in the aisle of the grocery store for quite some time, talking softly.

Listening to the woman's story, she saw some of the tension in the woman's body relax and release. The pain was obviously still there, but not as intense. Finally drawing the conversation to a close, the two women went on about their shopping--each going their own way. Later, they saw each other again. This time a smile warmed the face of the woman. The pain could still be seen in her body, but her spirit was brighter.

As she thought about the woman, other encounters in the last few days were brought to her mind. She thought of a mother she saw bringing a sick child to the doctor--the tension gripping her when the parking area was closed and they had to park many blocks from the facility. Her frustration in trying to juggle the things she needed to carry while care for her son building tension in her body. Yet it quickly dissipated with the kind words of a parking attendant asking her to wait while he called for a shuttle to take her to the facility--the instant release of tension when she realized she didn't have to handle all her problems on her own. Help was coming.

She thought about another friend she had seen earlier in the day who had seemed on the verge of tears. Inquiring, her friend quickly shared that her brother had just been told that he had a brain tumor--his third one--and they weren't sure they could treat it this time. Grief, pain, and fear had filled her. As they talked . . . and prayed, her friend released the tension that was immobilizing her and went on with her work.

As she thought about these and other people she had met throughout the day, she realized that we were not created to be alone. We need each other. God created us to be with one another. Often there is little we can do that actually resolves the problem or issue someone else encounters. It is our presence, our caring, our compassions and love that eases the burden.

We were never intended to bear our burdens alone. God is always with us and we, as God's love in human form, are to be with each other through our sorrows and our joys. That is the great secret of the body of Christ--we are not alone. We are not perfect nor do we always fix each other's problems, but we walk with each other along the way.

It would be wonderful indeed if every person in the body of Christ--the church--lived life consistently. Unfortunately, we are the walking wounded. Instead of perfect beings, we all go through life with wounds and injuries that are in the process of healing. Sometimes we are fine--other times we are not. We are not perfect, but by the grace of God we continue on our way and can offer a helping hand along the way.

God, our companion and strength, open our eyes and hearts so that we may see that others in our lives are living with deep hidden wounds. Fill our hearts with compassion so that we reach out to one another to share our burdens along the way. Help us to be willing to forgive rather than judge one another. We recognize that you created us to help one another, to share our lives, our hearts, and our compassion. Teach us, O God, to live in such a way that all may become one--the body of Christ. So be it. Amen.