By Zach Dodd
“When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things, I see the familiar.
I was little, I was weak, I was perfect too, now I’m a broken mirror.”
These lyrics from the song ‘Eight’ by Sleeping At Last have haunted me for a while. It’s not like a scary haunting but one where someone sees straight through me like an X-ray tech. These words help me understand parts of myself and my story. These lyrics pull back the curtain and tell me why I’m moved to serve hurting kids and those enduring unjust suffering. It’s because I hurt as a kid, and still do as an adult. I, too, have suffered unjustly. I just don’t want anyone else to feel what I’ve felt.
My childhood was a far cry from the childhoods endured by the kids in our ministries around the world. I do not share the same experiences, culture, or family histories as them, but I can say I have felt some of their feelings. In spite of the milkshake smile, I still struggled with depression, anxiety, crippling fear, and suicidal thoughts as a child. My nervous system still remembers those way-too-common childhood sensations brought on by rejection, feeling misunderstood, and just wanting to run away.
So, when a kid tells me their story (through a translator) of feeling fragile, helpless, and broken, I hear a familiar tone. I feel our shared humanity because I still hold those emotions deep in my marrow. I never knew the pangs of hunger as a child, but I know the feeling of not having your needs met and I’ve had seasons of worrying about feeding my own children. I am so happy that WEGO currently employs and empowers 27 locals because I know the feeling of not being able to get a job, much less a chance.
But this doesn’t send me to pity or sorrow. My soul bursts open and empathy fills the darkness like a lightshow. This calls me to help the helpless and hurting because I, too, was (and still am) helpless and hurt. I get it. Our healing finds its greatest purpose and completion when we let God use it for others. Like Dan Allender writes in To Be Told, “If we come to know our story and then give it away, we will discover the deepest meaning in our lives.” We are wounded-healers. We are reconciled-reconcilers. We are children of a High Priest who experienced our earthly pains then chose to do something about it.
We can give out of compassion – “I feel so bad for this person and just can’t possibly imagine what they are going through. I hope this helps.”
Or we can give out of empathy – “I know that same feeling and hated it. I hope this relieves their pain, like I wished someone would have relieved (or did relieve) mine.”
Both of these are wonderful, biblical reasons to give. Both will make a difference. But the latter allows our lives and shared humanity to intersect with others in a powerful way. Giving out of compassion makes us saints but giving out of empathy makes us human. It puts both the giver and receiver on level ground. You are no longer throwing coins into a cup held by a beggar. You’re sitting on a bench, sharing bread and stories.
This leads me to a beautiful invitation.
- Visit our New Hope Kids page
- Discover the specific ways you can help someone in need
- Look for something familiar from your own story
- Out of empathy, give and meet that specific need
- Thank God for using that part of your story to bless another
We all have these dark pains and places inside of us. We are all so unique, yet all the same. Find the familiar in places of suffering around the world. Make a difference in the lives you find there. In doing so, you will join God in redeeming both of your stories.