Don't Suffocate Compassion

Ah, the dreaded COVID-19 opinion piece. Let me start out by saying that I don't intend to tell anyone how to live with this article, only to take a moment to think and take a deep breath. The whole point of this is that we're in different places and circumstances right now; what I say may or may not apply to you. And please, don't use this to bash, single-out, or chastise anyone. This is a piece for self-reflection (myself included).

Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash

There's a blanket of fear draped over the world right now--internet and in-person. It's understandable; six months ago, I doubt any of us would have predicted we'd be living in a global epidemic that's triggering unprecedented public health measures and likely preceding a global economic decline. Our habits, luxuries, livelihoods, and even lives are at stake. Fear is a natural response to such life-changing events.

Unfortunately, we seem to be burying ourselves in that blanket of fear until it's suffocating us. Moreover, it's suffocating our compassion.

As much as we like to say that we're all "alone together", the fact is that we only get glimpses into what others are experiencing.

For me, this outbreak has been a string of inconveniences, low-grade irritation, and mild anxiety about the future. I came back from a servant event in Florida, looking forward to visiting my parents a few times, celebrating my birthday and Easter, competing in a half marathon that I'd trained two months for, and starting to make plans for summer vacations.

All that has been put on the back burner to shuffle work schedules every other week as the vet hospital asks us to do more tasks, be more flexible, and burn vacation hours rather than work overtime. My spare time has been spent not looking at campsites, but sewing face masks to wear to work and in public. My visits to my parents have been replaced with Skype calls, my motivation to train for a half marathon that I'll run by myself has all but died, and Easter left me pondering that this is probably the longest I've gone without setting foot in a church in my entire life.

This is not to be "woe is me". This is just the only story I've experienced.

Source

I haven't experienced the lifestyle of a human nurse working double overtime to save patients without adequate PPE, living in a hotel to protect my family from the virus.

I haven't been a father watching his family business crumble under lockdown measures and wondering if he'll even have something to pass onto his family.

I haven't been a single person confined to my apartment for days, weeks, without any in-person interaction while laid off and trying to follow social distancing guidelines, but yearning for a drink with friends.

I haven't stood at someone's deathbed as they passed from the virus.

I haven't been a person in an abusive relationship who is now stuck at home with a violent alcoholic who was recovering, but is now driven back to drink by unemployment.

I haven't been a grocery store employee berated multiple times a day by customers and working to the bone for a small wage, just to feed my family and keep the world turning.

I haven't been a mother homebound with multiple children who needs room to think, breathe, and be away from her family for just thirty minutes.

I haven't been a new grandparent unable to see my new grandchild other than through a glass door due to fear for my own safety.

I haven't been a woman postponing the wedding she looked forward to for over a year to protect her family.

The fact is, none of us has experienced all of these stories, or the thousands more that are out there. And yet, when you scroll through the internet or listen to conversations at work, it seems that everyone thinks they have experienced all of these things--or at least, they know well enough about them to comment on them and everyone else's decisions and call them "The Problem".

I understand the fear of death. We have an opportunity to slow this virus by minimizing the people with whom we come into contact. Anyone who steps out of the strictest social distancing guidelines seems to be willfully endangering people's lives.

I understand the fear of economic decay. The economy's not going to be the same after this and even my seemingly iron-clad university job is fraught with uncertainty.  People calling for even longer or tighter shut downs seem to be willingly saying that they'd rather see people unemployed and starve.

I understand the fear of impeded freedoms. Crises like this are the perfect atmosphere for change and some of the measures taken can easily be seen as unconstitutional from an American perspective. People calling for arrests and more restrictions behind these measures seem to be calling for more governmental power and the institutionalization of a police state.

See how easily that fear turns into painting the worst intentions on everyone else's actions?

We acknowledge our own fear, but not other people's. Instead of assuming that they are struggling and afraid and responding with compassion, we assume that they have the worst intentions and are deliberately trying to cause suffering in our lives.

The fear that blankets us is suffocating our compassion for others.

We're so afraid for our own (or loved ones') safety, for our economic stability, for our ways of life, that we can't breathe. We can only see the looming shadows in the closet, not the objects that cast them.

Source

It's time that we try to peel back the fear and take a deep breath of understanding, compassion, and, as Luther would put it, "Putting the best construction on things".

We're all afraid and distant, and that makes it easy to put the worst possible intentions on others' actions.

Odds are, the man protesting the government's handling of the situation is not trying to kill people. He's probably justifiably concerned about what precedent this is going to set for our freedoms in the future. If you see his protest picture on Facebook, ask his opinion on it. Why did he go? What's he concerned about?

Likely, the nurse posting that you need to stay home and stop complaining about not working because "x number of people have died" in front of her today is not trying to crush your economic hopes and dreams and hoping you'll starve. She's probably exhausted, emotionally drained, and worried about her family. Ask if you can cook for her family or pray for her. Ask her what it's like.

Believe it or not, the family asking to reopen their landscape business is probably not in disbelief about the virus' deadliness. They're probably looking to put food on the table, trying to maintain a business they love (and have worked hard to build).  Support them when they reopen. Ask how you can help in the meantime.

It's hard when you're afraid, but try to put yourself in someone else's shoes. This is a new experience for all of us and, mostly, we're trying to do the best we can.

Undoubtedly, there are people out there who are convinced this is a scam, there are people endangering others willfully, and other people will seek to manipulate this crisis for political or economic gains in sinful ways. There are the hoarders and the fearmongers and the others who are so afraid that their behavior is becoming irrational and harmful to others and they can no longer see beyond the end of their own nose.

But don't assume those things about everyone you meet. You might be surprised about what they're going through. And what's more, you might find a way to help and show compassion. Sometimes, just feeling that you can do something to help is a powerful aid in the fight against fear.

Let's stick our heads out from beneath this blanket of fear, look each other in the eyes, and try to display some compassion to the others who are struggling. Recognize that your struggle and their struggle are different and be gracious to them as far as you are able.

Above all, remember God is still in control and ask Him for grace in these trying times. Because we certainly aren't going to make it through without His help.