About a month ago, I did a dumb - something that I am still not quite sure how I did it. I had put my backpack in the passenger seat of my car and went to close the door and managed to close the door on the tips of the first two fingers of my left hand. And I closed that door strongly enough that it actually fully closed with my fingers in it. Somehow, they weren’t broken but wow did it hurt. But the weirdest thing was that, for about a week afterward, the tips of both were almost totally numb. A very very weird feeling. Slowly, after about a week, the feeling started to return but it took a few weeks for them to fully get back to normal.
But the numbness was rooted in pain and roundedness (and, in this case, a good bit of stupidity).
In centering on some of the painful realities of the world right now, MaryAnn writes this...
The prevailing temptation, then and now, is numbness.1
Yes indeed. Numbness to the homeless person at the stoplight or as you’re walking downtown. Numbness to the brutality of wars and violence throughout the world. Numbness to the ongoing epidemic of gun violence in our country and our unwillingness to do anything to change it. Numbness to the effects of what we are doing to the environment. Numbness to the pain that people are experiencing day in and day out, whether that is emotional pain of rejection or hatred or racism or physical pain of conditions that will not improve. I could keep going but you get the idea.
Is that numbness due to the figurative car doors that have been shut on us and the pain that ensued when we realized the size of the problems we face? It’s easier to be numb to these painful realities or to numb ourselves to prevent us from feeling their depth.
But I don’t want to be numb to the pain in the world. The One I follow wasn’t numb to that pain and I shouldn’t be either. During those few weeks with largely-numb fingers, I found myself continually seeing what they would feel until I started to get some of the normal feeling back. I wanted to feel once again in those fingers. In fact, I struggled to do common things during those weeks because of that numbness (for someone who types really weirdly and types really fast and somehow does that with mostly the first two fingers on each hand...you can imagine how that went).
When we are numb to the pain of the world, we are hamstrung from being the full people that God desires us to be in the world. We are limiting ourselves in how hope can be kindled in us. Yes, the world hurts and will continue to hurt. Yes, it would be better to shy away from the hard stuff. But we need people feeling and from that feeling, we need them taking action. What we do may not be something noticed by others or it may not move the needle dramatically but it does make a difference. I love how MaryAnn ends this chapter...
Regardless of our particular convictions and beliefs, numbing out is a luxury we cannot afford. No one can do everything, but everyone can do something. At times, the “something” is to pull back and rest—but always in the service of a deeper engagement, one small act at a time.2
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Moving beyond the temptation to numb, what is one action you can take today to feel something and one action that can make the difference in the world outside yourself?
Grace, Peace, Love, and Joy,
Ed
McKibben Dana, MaryAnn. Hope: A User's Manual (p. 137). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.
McKibben Dana, MaryAnn. Hope: A User's Manual (pp. 138-139). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.
Sadly, I have to agree that people seem to be numb to many of the World’s problems. Or is just choosing not to even acknowledge them even something different? And this past week I was visiting with people I truly love with all my heart but I had to be so mindful of how I said many things because I was a guest and did not want to make hard feelings. And our viewpoints were as far apart as the sides of Grand Canyon. It really is mind boggling. I suppose each of us must try to be sure and look around to feel how others may feel. Very hard, even when constantly trying to be mindful.
Ouch, Ed. Today I was in the dentist’s recliner and the hygienist was using an ultrasonic devise that had a very VERY high pitched sound. My shoulders, I noticed, were nearly touching my ears. I lowered them, breathed deeply and exhaled, and relaxed my body. I remind myself OFTEN to breathe. You reminded our congregation on Sunday to BREATHE. One thing I’m trying to do as I interact with others? NOT INTERRUPT them, even with acknowledgment that I hear them or I agree. It’s taken me YEARS of intentionality not to interrupt. I dislike it so much that I do (a family trait I’ve worked to undo for YEARS). Even at 66, I sometimes still do it. 😔😔