A BLESSING OR A CURSE?

I'm the kind of person who will go out of her way to help an old lady across the street, or to help a child being chased by a dog. I always thank the driver when I get off a public transport, thank the crew getting my order at the fast-food restaurant, or the cashier at the bookstore. It's quite easy for me to get someone to confide in me, or to feel comfortable talking to me, as if I were an old friend. But it's also easy for me to empathize and get involve with these people – feeling their pain, making their worries my own, and generally immersing myself into whatever is currently happening in their lives. People are special to me, whether they are my family and friends, or just strangers.

When people tell me that they appreciate my concern, or my kindness, I think the Lord has truly blessed me. When I have made a person smile, or made him feel good, or consoled someone in the midst of his grief, held someone’s hand in silent support… when I feel that I have touched someone’s life and made a difference, no matter how small, then I know my sojourn in this world is worthwhile. When I manage to teach a child to say sorry and thank you, encouraged an elderly friend that this life is still worth living despite his many aches and waning sight, I thank God most humbly that He has made me aware of the needs of others, and has used me to manifest his goodness and faithfulness. And then I truly feel blessed.

But as I search for words to comfort someone whose loved one is dying, when I feel as if every word I utter does not mean anything at all, or if there is someone who needs help and I couldn’t meet that need and he has to go away empty-handed, or I see the suffering of a friend but there is no way for me to alleviate that, then I feel as if I am cursed. For what use is my life if it can’t ease the pain of someone?

Sometimes, I wish I didn’t care so much. But will life be any easier if I didn’t?