A boy, about eight years old, walked into a general store. The front of the store hung a sign that said "Puppies for sale." The boy asked the owner, "may I have a puppy?" The owner gestures to the back room, where about eight puppies were kept in a pen. "Choose whichever one you like." The boy went into the back room and looked at the puppies (for some reason, I imagined them as Yorkshire terriers). The puppies peered up and hung their little paws on the side of the pen, where they excitedly wagged their tails and eagerly yelped for attention. The boy picked each one up one at a time and inspected them.
The little boy smiled, for he had found his puppy. Taking this puppy in his two hands, he cradled the puppy up to the front. "This one will be my puppy. How much is he?" the little boy asked. The owner replied, "Fifty dollars." The boy's face fell. "All I have is five dollars, sir." The manager frowned, "I'm sorry boy, but there is nothing I can do about it. They cost fifty-dollars each. If you don't have the money, would you please put the puppy back?" The boy, looking crestfallen, put his puppy back into the pen. He then went up to the owner, "I will be back for him. That puppy is my puppy." The owner shook his head, "I'm sorry boy, I cannot hold onto this puppy for you, and they go fast. I'm afraid, by the time you come back, he will already be gone." The boy smiled and said, "No, he will still be here, because he is my puppy."
For the next few days, the boy did everything he could to earn money. He went around the neighborhood and did many tasks: he mowed lawns, moved tree branches, took out trash, and ran errands. Soon enough, the boy had fifty dollars. He returned to the general store, and set the wad of cash onto the counter. "I have fifty dollars sir, can I go get my puppy now?" The owner looked up from his chair behind the counter, and sighed. "I only have three of the puppies left, and unfortunately these are the ones which are less desirable. You can still go check and see, but I highly doubt your puppy will still be among them." The boy went back and checked on the last three puppies. Indeed, the ones left were the ones that were the runts of the litter, or had irregularly patterned coats that looked displeasing. The boy reached down and picked one of them. He ran back to the front and showed the owner the puppy. "This is the one I wanted. This is my puppy."
But as the boy turned to leave the store, the owner called out to the boy. "Hey! You don't want that puppy. If you look closely, you'll will see that one of his back legs is retracted. He was born with a hip injury, and will never be able to walk or run like a normal dog." The boy stopped and frowned. "But this is my puppy." He continued towards the door. The owner continue to protest saying, "Hey boy, you will never be able to play fetch or frisbee with him. Take him back and choose one of the other puppies. They will make a much better pet than a lame dog." But the boy turned around and just gave a huge smile and continue to walk out the door. The owner stood up and was about to protest one last time, but he noticed something that he hadn't noticed before. He realized that the boy moved much slower than a normal person. Sticking from underneath the pants was the lower half of a brace. The boy was a cripple. The owner just stared at the boy walking down the street with a puppy cupped in his arms, and finally sat to contemplate what he just experienced. Then he chuckled at himself and continued on with his tasks.
(credit of the story goes to elder Brian Burkey, expanded by me)
As you learned from the story, it takes one who has suffered the same fate to truly understand another experiencing the same tragedy, whether its divorce, a death in the family, or cancer. For the rest of us, we will never understand the bearer of the suffering and pain. Sometimes we believe them to be exaggerating, that no pain can be "that bad", and that life will continue. Even more often we are afraid that we can offer no help to our friends who are hurting. Henry Nouwen once said,
"When we honestly ask ourselves which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face us with the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."
We do not have to understand their pain to be a steadfast shoulder for them to lean on. Be open, be honest, be genuine when you listen, and never abandon them to their fears and physical or psychological pain.
The story of the boy and his puppy is another analogy of how God truly cares for us. Not only does he love us so much that no matter what we do, we will never lose his love, but he was willing to experience everything we experience, including the suffering, temptations, loneliness, and even death. He fully understands what we say when we complain to him, and he also pains on the inside.
For me, I have experienced the hurt and abandonment of Christians in my past. I honestly say that those who have hurt me the most are Christian. I got to watch my parents cry and blame themselves for all the suffering I had to endure due to lack of community. It is a painful sight. I don't blame them. Life isn't easy when money dictates society. Life isnt' easy when there are worldly expectations on class and looks. Life isn't easy when there is cancer. Life isn't easy when people are selfish. Life isn't easy when hearts are very fragile. I love my parents so much for what they did for me, for what they sacrificed for me, for loving me so much and accepting me, and I will always love them.
So when I see others who are being ignored, their cries of help unanswered, or paralyzed in the grasp of torturous pain, my heart breaks for them. When there are people being left out of the community, I will try to reach out to them. When I see fellowship failing or chasing after the wrong goals, I boil over with rage. One step is the right direction is better than running a mile in the wrong direction. (A tree that bears bad fruit cannot bear good fruit). But I realize, not everyone has suffered before the same way, and so they cannot understand. To farther this, I've been in so many experiences in college, where I have to sit on the opposite side of a person who is tearfully crying. Their pain, their situation, is beyond what I can help. All I can do is watch them cry as their world breaks around them. I feel powerless. But, as mentioned above, all I can do is listen, be gentle, don't pity, and open my hand to receive some of their pain and return some of my warmth.
One thing I realized was that, if for some reason evidence appears that the God of Christianity does not exist, I personally would lose all reason to live. I might as well die immediately. The hurt I inflict to my parents and friends would mean nothing. The love and influence I would have shown the world would mean nothing. Everything will just be a human construct, and nothing has value, nothing is precious, and there will be no dream worth pursuing. I wonder how many Christians I know whose life would not change one bit if they found out Jesus doesn't exist. Would they still pursue the same goals or live life the same way?
There is really not much I can do, but to care for everyone, extend my hand of friendship to those who wish to receive it, and help those who ask for it. That is all I can do.
God is writing a KICK-ASS story. All I have to do is believe.
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