1.5.24 - Hosea 11:8-9
Who might need your loving-kindness today? How might you embody that for them rather than trying to fix, save, or otherwise change them?
How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim, for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath
I recently overheard an older woman telling a friend that her son her suffered from addictions and had lost his family and possessions.
She cried over how he messed up over and over again, digging deeper into a pit where he could just not get out.
She cried tears of anger and frustration. She said she wanted to tell him to never come back and she wanted to stop helping him.
She wanted to take back the home where he had lived for free for years.
As I listened, her voice changed and she was filled with compassion and tenderness as she said she trusted her son would seek help and heal and that she would walk by his side every step of the way.
That is the kind of love of a Creator, one who walks with us every step of the way despite our missteps and mistakes.
Discipleship shouldn't make us feel guilty or somehow burdened by our responsibilities in the world. There is a freedom that comes with compassion. That doesn't mean there isn't work ahead. It simply means that discipleship is born of a loving-kindness for one another. That is the beginning, middle, and end of it all.
Who might need your loving-kindness today? How might you embody that for them rather than trying to fix, save, or otherwise change them?
--Claudia Aguilar Rubalcava