"Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?...Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, 'Here I am.' If you take away the yoke from your midst, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday."

-Isaiah 58:6, 8-10

What lies beyond myself is every pain; what is not me is every hope and dream and ache. Who am I to be the center? Were I for a moment to look past my own brokenness and need, while neither forgetting nor rejecting them, I would see a world that is a landfill of broken hearts and desperation. I plead with God to answer the questions and trepidations lurking in my heart, yet for all my groanings I fail to see that trembling and suffering that is sitting near to me in the heart of a friend. I sit at the feet of mercy, yet I do not understand it. Grace and mercy and love are things that cannot be hoarded, for they will perish if not spread. Love is not static--it only grows or dies.

How terrible to realize that, though your trials were great indeed, you have only to discover that you were surrounded by even greater. Grief and pain, if they are not informed by the cross and are instead stored up in the darkened heart, become bitterness and selfish ambition. If I see my trials as the greatest, then my eyes are dark indeed. If I do not look to the pain of another with compassion, then I am the man who was forgiven and aided much and yet begrudged his neighbor a kind hand.

A thorn is desolate, cruel, and bitter. Yet He bore a crown of them on our behalf. Shall we then not also strive to bear one another's thorns? And if we cannot bear them, then blunt them?

Should we not have little care for ourselves? How much faith do we have if we remain consumed with personal concern, if we refuse to see past this phantasmal spectacle we call "self"? Does he like me? Would she reject me? How will we live? How will I ever heal from this pain? When will I stop thinking about this crisis? How long until God finally calls me home? -- Oh people of God! He knows the tremblings of our innermost heart, and He has care of us with tender compassion. It is not for us to mend ourselves. If we remain consumed with the wanderings of our own hearts, even with the intent to correct them, we will only remain in darkness and gloom! The only way for healing to occur is to be lost in the face of Beauty and Love, to stop trying to heal. Only when we raise our eyes to gaze on Christ and the glory of the Father will we find peace and rest. When I look back on the time during which I have forgotten myself, I see that He tended my soul without ceasing.

So why spend our time determining our steps and planning our ways? If we have surrendered our lives to Christ, these things are no longer our concern. Instead, the concerns of Christ are now ours. He came to "bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound...to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who morn in Zion...the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit" (Isaiah 61:1-3, excerpted). So this is our earthly concern. We are the creations and instruments of Christ. We have already been ransomed to a kingdom that cannot be shaken and will not perish. Our citizenship is of that city, and its Master is the desire of our hearts. Let us labor here as His servants and strive to do His work every day that we are given, until that glorious day when He will call us to Himself, and we at last will see Him as He is.

When weary sigh and heavy soul
  accompanied my way
When hopeless hope and groundless trust
  my constant stiff and stay
I lost a quasi-grip on life
  and stared into despair
But yet there shined a hopeful light
  and stayed my wand'rings there
O Lord, I know what 'tis to say,
  "I know, but don't believe."
Help my fainting heart to faith,
  and help my unbelief!
Though many trials and helpless woes
  accost the weary lame
I know the good You form from throes
  to the glory of Your name!