Tag: sympathy

Letters for a Marine Recruit

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)

Almost but Not Yet (Life in Waiting Pt. 1)

Ife J. Ibitayo

We live in a year of “almost but not yet”s. We’re almost allowed to go back into the office but not yet. We’re almost allowed to hold celebrations with our friends and family but not yet. We’re almost ready to return to normal (whatever “normal” will be) but not yet.

It’s like we’re stuck in Groundhog Day on Christmas Eve. We’re anxiously awaiting tomorrow, but it never seems to arrive.

Almost Free

 The Egyptians enslaved the Israelites for over four hundred years (Exodus 12:40). They waited generation after generation for salvation, according to the promise given to their ancestor Abraham (Genesis 15:13-14). Then their liberator finally arrived. Moses burst on the scene with a commission from God and a miracle working staff. He barged into Pharaoh’s palace and demanded that he release God’s people (Exodus 3-5). You can probably guess how well that went.

Pharoah kicked the uppity troublemaker out and doubled the workload of his slaves. Chastened and distraught, “Moses returned to the Lord and said, ‘Why, Lord, why have you brought trouble on this people? Is this why you sent me? Ever since I went to Pharaoh to speak in your name, he has brought trouble on this people, and you have not rescued your people at all’” (Exodus 5:22-23).

Almost Understood

God responded to Moses, “‘I am the LORD. I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob as God Almighty, but by my name the LORD I did not make myself fully known to them’” (Exodus 6:2-3). A name carries the identity and character of a person; it reveals who they are. And just as God used the waiting to reveal Himself in a deeper way to Moses and the Israelites, so He does in our lives.

How can we appreciate that God is LORD of the valleys if we only remain on the mountaintops (1 Kings 20:28)? How can we find God in hell if we’re only treated to heaven (Psalm 139:8)? It’s through the wait that we can enter into a deeper understanding of who the LORD really is.

Almost Heard

“‘Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving’” (Exodus 6:5a). God doesn’t simply fix our problems. He enters into our pain while we’re waiting.

We all have those well-meaning loved ones who can’t bear to see us unhappy. Instead of taking the time to understand the source of our emotional discontent, they immediately seek to banish the problem. True love enters the waiting and sympathizes with our weaknesses before healing the pain (Hebrews 4:15).

Almost Glorious

Lastly, God said, “‘I will make Pharaoh’s heart stubborn so I can multiply my miraculous signs and wonders in the land of Egypt. Even then Pharaoh will refuse to listen to you. So I will bring down my fist on Egypt. Then I will rescue my forces—my people, the Israelites—from the land of Egypt with great acts of judgment. When I raise my powerful hand and bring out the Israelites, the Egyptians will know that I am the Lord’” (Exodus 7:3-5). God strengthens our testimony by allowing us to wait.

The power of delayed graduations, marriages, and any number of major life events grows over time. For instance, it’s one thing to have a baby when you are thirty and quite another to have one when you are one hundred (Romans 4:19)! As God pushes the timeline of our promises out to the right, He’s increasing the glory of their fulfillment, not diminishing it.

Conclusion

“Almost but not yet” may very well be the hardest season of life to live in. But it’s also one of the richest. As the words to the classic song goes, “we may not be able to trace His hand. But we can trust His heart”. And we can rest assured that God is working even now.

“He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.”

(Psalm 121:3)