DJ: #54 Leaving Them Behind
“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.”
- Henry David Thoreau
One of the glaring difficulties of recent life is the dread of letting some relationships go, as I move onward with Jesus. I want and intend to live my life from a place of joy and hope, not cynicism and fear. It follows then I have less tolerance for those dedicated to their slop. I get it. I was in their shoes. I have no hate for them, only compassion.
I just don’t want to hear them complain about their jobs and lives. Mind you, the people I picture as I write are, by most accounts, great people. And they have stacks of blessings in their lives: good jobs, good families, etc. All the things.
But because I know them, because I’ve gotten closer to them, I know their cracks and flaws. And…they are trapped in their fears and insecurity. They never have “a good day.” Life is marked by frustration and the trials they face. At the other end of their angst is usually another person, someone they give power to and allowed to steal their peace. They describe life in sarcasm, memes, and tired complaints.
They are perpetual victims.
I know the land they inhibit. Lived there myself, for a bit. They don’t know how easy it is to be something else, to live from their hearts and experience daily renewal of their souls. Instead they are apathetic and lonely, never able to experience true peace. They are the walking definition of the quote above- desperate.
It is not a new understanding, to know people suffer, to know my friends suffer. What is new, for me, is the belief I must continue onward with the Lord. It’s not my place to fix them or stop what I’m doing to entertain them. In fact, the best action I can take is to keep going, show them a different route is available.
It’s a tough choice to carry to live out. I love my friends. I know and see the best in them, and I hurt they choose to live a life below what they are called to experience. I have to tell myself it’s not my job to save them. I’m not the Holy Spirit or the Father. I can’t see their hearts and what they need. He does. He gets it.
I’m not an asshole for moving on, but it can feel like it. How plainly I see their pain and struggles with insecurity, with self-pity, with hopelessness. But my hope isn’t in my pop-psychology or wisdom. The Lord is good, and I trust Him. I trust Him with my heart, my hopes, and future.
I trust Him with my friends too. He loves them more than I’ll ever know. And I will hope and pray for them, that they will see His light and move into it. They have their own path of glory to walk.
Lord,
Touch my friends. Remove the scales from the hearts, and the chains from their minds. Water the seeds of joy and peace you sowed into them, and give me the Grace to be the friend they need. I can see what I see, but I am not You. Your will be done.
Amen.
