Stirring

I used to really ache for those who suffer. I would literally lose a lot of sleep crying for and praying for those who live in extreme poverty, those who have little freedom, those who are suffering from the world's injustice. I have been lamenting the lack of that sort of empathy in my life for several months now. I want to be compassionate, but I feel so hollow. I don't know where that part of me, which seemed so abundant in the past, has gone.

The other night I was reading a book called Gracias: A Latin American Journal by Henri Nouwen. One of his journal entries stirred my hunger for justice back to life a little bit. The emotions I went through when I read this section gave me a taste of what I used to feel like nearly all of the time. It is a tough, good feeling.

True prayer always involves becoming poor. When we pray we stand naked and vulnerable in front of Our Lord and show him our true condition. If one were to do this not just for oneself, but in the name of the thousands of surrounding poor people, wouldn't that be "mission" in the true sense of being sent into the world as Jesus himself was sent into the world? To lift up your hands to the Lord and show him the hungry children who play on the dusty streets, the tired women who carry their babies on their backs to the marketplace, the men who try to forget their misery by drinking too much beer on the weekends, the jobless teenagers and the homeless squatters, together with their laughter, friendly gestures, and gentle words - wouldn't that be true service? If God really exists, if he truly cares, if he never leaves his people alone, who is there to remind him of his promises? Who is there to cry out: "How long will you frown on your people's plea? . . . Turn again, we implore, look down from heaven and see. Visit this vine and protect it, the vine your right hand has planted. . . Let your face shine on us, and we shall be saved" (Ps. 80)? I feel that in a world rushing to the abyss, the need for calling God to the task, for challenging him to make his love felt among the poor, is more urgent than ever.

A friend of mine was talking today about how convicted she feels to do whatever she can to help the "least of these." She was so passionate and spoke with such conviction. It reminded me of my former, better self. I miss the old Ashley.