“No sympathy”
These were the strange words an older friend and mentor said to me in a set of unusual circumstances.
Driving our then 6 kids to school one winter morning we passed a teenage boy walking down Toodyay Rd in a most bedraggled fashion. Freezing and pouring. An area where there are no houses for miles in any direction.
Walking head down into the rain, clutching a bunched up sodden sleeping bag to his chest.
Against common sense I pulled over and Cal and I hopped out to cross the road.
Encouraged back to our car, putting the soggy bundle into the boot of the van I noticed…
Surprise no 1. It was a girl
Surprise no 2. In fact a young woman
Surprise no 3. She had “I love Jesus” written along the edges of her thongs.
She was living in a women’s shelter but didn’t want to return there. She had no money and no other luggage. After dropping 5 of the 6 at school and some discussion, she agreed to come back home with us to think for a while. (With oldest son and me).
I fished out some clothes for her, washed and popped her own in the dryer, she showered, dressed, ate and slept. She didn’t want to stay – didn’t want to impose. She just wanted to hear from God. She’d gone up to the mountain as she’d read some old prophet in the Bible had done, and was crestfallen that He hadn’t met with her in the night. We talked about the purposes of God and how we read and interpret the Bible. We talked as much as she would allow about her life – which wasn’t much – all she knew was she needed to think and pray.
While she slept I called some friends. People of our beautiful community.
It was the first who said those words “no sympathy” – which I didn’t understand at the time. In fact I found them mystifying.
It was the second call to friends who were caretakers of a campsite who said she could stay in one of the cabins for a while. I took her over when she woke, settled her with bedding and some food and left her our phone number.
A few days later I went back and she’d gone.
She left most of the food. The bedding and clothes were folded and a lovely heartfelt thankyou note was on the bench. The only thing she took with her was some old sneakers I had insisted she keep to replace her dying thongs.
This was nearly 10 years ago. In these years I have often come back to the words “no sympathy” and pondered what they meant. They came from a person I love and trust and admire. A person with more life experience than me. A person who I’ve spoken to many times for advice. So they are words that mattered. Not words I could dismiss. And while I was mystified, clearly they lodged in my mind for a reason.
Since then, I have made other decisions and conclusions going against those words. If she’d never said them, I’d never have had reason to ponder the results of decisions and conclusions made on the wings of sympathy.
It’s to do with loads and burdens (or back packs and boulders).
It’s to do with the deceptive nature of our emotions.
It’s to do with layering principles together, not just applying one idea.
It’s NOT meaning offer no sympathy or help.
It’s NOT a carte blanche statement.
If we are each to carry our own load but also to bear one another’s burdens, how do we know the difference? If we liken a load to a backpack of our own size and belongings and we liken burdens to the boulder sized extras that are sometimes in our paths, we can get a clearer picture. (Cloud and Townsend). But sometimes circumstances mean that even the backpack has the effect of a boulder. The trick is in discerning the difference in the decisions and conclusions we make for others and ourselves.
If sympathy leads me to help the hatching chick out of its shell, I will kill the chick. Sympathy in this case would be deceptive.
Life decisions are rarely simple. Context is complicated enough without sympathy causing harm rather than help.
Is sympathy bad?
Of course not… like everything… its the application that counts.