By Ife J. Ibitayo
Thirteen weeks of the most grueling combat training man has ever concocted. Three mortifying months without Wi-Fi or Chick-Fil-A for comfort. That is what my friend signed up for when he shipped out to marine basic training last month. Shortly after he left, I received a Facebook message from his wife asking if I’d write him. As I penned my thoughts down on a sheet of paper, I reflected on the value of my scribbles. Why is such a simple act of connection so important for those enduring grueling circumstances?
I Have Not Forgotten You
First, when we connect with those in pain, we let them know, “I have not forgotten you.” Hebrews 13:3 says, “Continue to remember those in prison as if you were together with them in prison, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.” When one is isolated from others for a good reason (like military training) or a bad one (like incarceration), loneliness is bound to follow. But when we take the time to connect with such people, we affirm that their lives matter. They are not forgotten on the outside, and there are people who are still rooting for them there.
I Identify with You
Secondly, when we connect with those who are suffering, we let them know, “I identify with you.” Sympathy is surprisingly costly. When my life is going peacefully, I don’t want to struggle with those who are battling. But that is what it means to be family. Speaking of the church of Christ as one body, Apostle Paul said, “If one member suffers, all the members suffer together” (1 Corinthians 12:26). We must be willing to enter “boot camp” with them in a sense, shouldering their burdens and sharing in their highs and their lows.
I Love You
Lastly, when we connect with those who are laboring, we let them know, “I love you.” Love is not squishy sentimentality. It is a costly willingness to sacrifice on another’s behalf for their good. As Apostle James said, “If one of you says to your brother or sister without food and clothing, ‘Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is that” (James 5:16)? Similarly, if we say we love our friends and family members, but that does not translate into the willingness to visit them, call them, or even mail them, we may need to reconsider our definition of love.
Conclusion
As I mailed my letter out earlier this week, I didn’t know how my friend would receive it. Would it make his day? Would he even be able to read my messy handwriting? I didn’t know. But I do know I’ll keep on writing him until he returns home safely.
“I thank God, whom I serve with a clear conscience as did my forefathers, as I constantly remember you night and day in my prayers.”
(2 Timothy 1:3)