Let Your Heart Keep Breaking

Wait, did I just write that? Coming from the country of the strong, the country where we overcome. Overcome heartbreak right?  Well I’m not really talking about your boyfriend/girlfriend kind of heartbreak. That heartbreak, you should probably move on from eventually. I’m talking about our heart breaking for this world.

Let me back up.

 Just last week I was sitting with some local Lao friends that lived up north in the city. We hadn’t seen each other in awhile. I try really hard to be vulnerable and honest with how I’m feeling with other Lao, even if they aren’t with me. I started sharing some of the heartbreaking stories that had happened, girls I knew who had been sold, pushed into prostitution, given away as brides, children neglected. These happen often, but some days I just need to be alone to grieve and talk to the father about them. I was sharing my struggle but also my hope.

A young man I was talking with laughed and said, “oh you’ll get over all that after you’ve been in my country a little longer.”

Get over it.

I looked at him right in the eyes and said, “Do you think our Father has ‘gotten over it’. I’m not here to get over it I’m here to do something about it. .”

His words hurt and angered me. But I began thinking about so many people in my life who react to horrible things with that very mindset. People in service jobs, police, nurse, social worker, teacher etc. Most I meet are so amazing with a huge heart. But some, maybe many, have hardened their hearts. To protect themselves from the pain they have let their heart go cold.

You’ve all met the teacher who has stopped trying with their students, the nurse who has seen too much death to have hope, the social worker that has seen so many damaged kids their faces and names run together with no meaning anymore. Their heart has stopped breaking, maybe they sleep more at night, and maybe they don’t. But they are definitely less impactful in their job.

Two summers ago when I worked as a counselor at KAA (an awesome camp for inner city kids) many people kind of laughed at me, because every week I would be greatly moved by people’s stories, or anytime the Father’s story is told. I remember just weeping for a young girl 17, had a daughter and twins babies who had passed away, and was pregnant again with the father in jail. She had nobody, she came with nothing. She ended up leaving, she couldn’t accept any of the love offered at camp.  I still grieve for that girl. Most of my co-workers thought I had never experienced people getting raped, or abused or poverty, they thought I was moved because it was new. Little did they know, that was not at all the case. You see, I had asked the Father long ago to NEVER LET MY HEART STOP BREAKING. Never let it stop being moved. Every time I counseled a new cabin of girls I always tried to treat them with all my care and love. Their pain ran fresh over me. Just because you hear pain over and over doesn’t make an individuals pain any less real. We are told to weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice.

Think to the last time you had a police officer, a teacher, anyone care about you like…..like they really cared about you. With a sincere heart. How much of a difference does that make. How much impact can that have?

I know this may sound silly but even being a server. Honestly yall, I loved being a waitress. Everyday was a new opportunity to love on somebody, to keep calm and kind even when things were stressful, to be joyful in a place that can sometimes be full of despair. My Father used my time there, and filled my soul there. Funny being spiritually filled at a bar, but it’s true. I always tried to treat every table special, and serve them like I loved them. It’s a humbling and wonderful position to work as, a server. Because of this, I’m friends with many patrons, they have encouraged me when I needed it. I met so many amazing individuals especially my coworkers.

Being out in this country, with death, drugs, child prostitution, hunger, oppression, desperation everywhere all the time. I hope. I beg the father, no matter how painful it can be for me, to never let my heart stop breaking for them. If it does I won’t be able to love them anymore.

And let me be clear, letting your heart break for people…Is hard. My heart is heavy so much, and some days it gets the best of me and I feel like I can’t bear it. And then there is the Father, to bear it with me, for me.

Teachers love every student like they are your first student. With all the hope and aspiration you had that first day, you are changing lives.

Police officers protect the weak, the victim; don’t let their stories stop meaning anything.

Social workers, every child is important and needs you to notice and care about them…their whole life might depend on you.

Doctors/nurses don’t write off that one patient because you’re tired, or all your hope as run out.

People. Humans. Life, they all have meaning. They all have worth. Even when these people drive me crazy, even when I am tempted to see them as a group, statistic, a project, I stop. I look into their eyes and remember how my Father loved such as these.