There is a song by
Peter, Paul and Mary that I used to sing back when my biggest problems were term papers. It says "If somehow you could pack up your sorrows and give them all to me". Lately the refrain has been
running through my head, as I ponder some of the weighty issues people I care about are facing. Health problems, infertility, bad debts, marriage strife, loneliness, unemployment, anger issues. The list is as long as a boa constrictor and just as constricting. It squeezes the life out of you just when you thought you had your grip on a branch to escape the forest floor.
When I think about the lack of those circumstances in my life right now I want to find a way to
lighten the load of those who seem bent over. But I can't seem to extract their burdens.
One of the goofy ways we had of evening the score when our kids were little was for the one who smacked a sibling to punch him or herself in the arm. I doubt I suggested it, but it came up a few times and amazingly seemed to bring comic relief to the one crying. It verged on slapstick but it kinda worked.
The scenario keeps pacing though my
brain. What if I could suffer more, somehow, in order to ease the pain of someone else? Does it even make sense? Is there a finite amount of hurt bouncing around in the world, and if I grab some away from a friend they will feel better?
I think I have flawed thinking here, except for the part about wanting to help. My daughter now works for
charity:water, and is part of the effort to bring clean water to one hundred thousand people in the African Sahel. How can I be part of that solution? Mailing a gallon of water seems inadequate, as does dumping dirt in the pitcher on my table.
But I do have a plan to sew a watery blue quilt, with the help of others who are also inspired, to raffle off and make a contribution.
I feel pretty confident that the people at
charity:water will reach their goal. Their track record suggests as much. So I could sit back and clap half heartedly while I sip lemonade with mint.
But maybe the point of aching to ease the burdens of another person is less about certainty, and more about being present to the person who struggles. Sometimes, that is enough to shift the weight.
