Tuesday Morning Epistles

Welcome to "Tuesday Morning"—tomorrow's good news today. Open it, read it, file it, and then pass it along to someone who needs encouragement. They are everywhere.
 
I seldom quote Plato. It's not that he never had much to say; it's just that a lot of what he had to say is lost in the translation. Or something like that. But here's a good quote, in any language:
 
"Always be kind—everyone's fighting a hard battle."
 
How did he know that? He was a mathematician and philosopher, not a sociologist or psychologist. He was an aristocrat, not a commoner. He was studied, not just a student. The place where he taught was called the Academy, not the town square. He majored in math and logic, not persons. He traveled widely, however, and that may be where his down-to-earth understanding of people came from. He got this one right: "Everyone is fighting a hard battle." And he wrote that some 2300 years before the Internal Revenue Service came into being.
 
Plato's instincts (and possibly his experience with the fair sex) reinforced his conclusion that everybody's hurting, and one of the best ways to cure a hurt is to show kindness. The subject of this week's "Tuesday Morning" is "Caring." It is attached below. Continue reading whenever you are ready, and then open your heart to someone who is "fighting a hard battle." You will be blessed if you do.
 
Tom Barnard
Born to Care

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Caring

Tom Barnard

 

I

love the word “Caring.” It’s one of those “love in any language” things. When I look into someone’s eyes and say, “I care about you,” everything that stands between us breaks into pieces. All barriers disappear. The sun shines again. Sorrow stops. Pain goes away. Here is one of my favorite quotes about caring, attributed to Stephen Grellet:

 

“I expect to pass through the world but once. Any good therefore that I can do, or any kindness I can show to any creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer it, for I shall not pass this way again.”

 

I may have more than one opportunity to care about someone else, but when that opportunity arrives, I need to take advantage of the moment. I may not pass this way again—this second, this minute, this hour, this day, or this week. To delay in caring for someone else may result in my never having an opportunity to care for that person again.

 

Leo Buscaglia once said, “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”

 

Everyone has at least one “significant other” in their lives. I am not speaking here about lovers, siblings, or parents. I’m speaking about pastors, teachers, mentors and coaches—people who take an interest in us even though they are not obligated to do so. I’m speaking about those who take time to encourage and affirm us—those who listen, and watch, and pray, and write notes to us and stuff like that.

 

What does it mean to care deeply for someone else?

 

It means taking a risk…it means investing time…it means paying attention to things said and not said. To really care about someone requires that we surrender something of ourselves to another person—our indifference, as a starter. To care about another person requires us to change our focus from ourselves to someone else. To care calls for us to open our heart and our time and our resources to make caring a reality. It means taking the initiative to relate positively to another person.

 

Recently I have been re-reading A Touch of Wonder, by Arthur Gordon (copyright 1974 by Fleming H. Revell Company and published by Guideposts Associates, Inc., New York). In the first chapter Gordon tells the story of watching a sunset with his small daughter one evening during the changing of the tides. He described the evening as “quiet, calm, and opalescent.” He said, “The waves sent thin sheets of molten gold across the dry land—closer and closer. Finally, almost like a caress, an arm of the ocean curled around the base of the dune. And my daughter said, pensively, ‘Isn’t it wonderful—how much the sea cares about the land?’”

 

What did she mean, “the sea cares about the land?” The land was passive, waiting for the ocean to do its thing. The sea was active, approaching the dry ground. The land seemed to wait patiently, until the sea “cared enough” to surround the sand dune, bringing life and hope with each ripple of water. The land did nothing; the water did everything. It came rolling in, ever so smoothly, until it was absorbed totally into the sand. Gordon called this act of absorption, fulfillment!

 

The Apostle may have had the tides in mind when he wrote, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7) I think Paul meant that love is “fulfilled” when it is “absorbed” by another person.

 

Do you know someone who could benefit from “a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring?” Today you can help turn a life around. Why wait? Do it now.

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