A Heart Like Jericho (The Walls Came Down)
by During the course of my childhood, I was a friend to several victims of child abuse. However, I had not witnessed it personally until that day. I would never be the same.
It is one of the most primitive instincts of every living thing to avoid pain. It is mostly a beneficial trait that keeps us from hazardous activity and prolongs our life.
However, sometimes our drive to protect ourselves actually hurts us in the end. Just like the toughened calluses you may develop on your feet if you wear shoes that cause a lot of friction between the material and your skin, our hearts are very much prone to subconscious toughening and hardening. Although we do need to be careful about who we trust and we do need to guard our hearts, the barriers and walls that we erect all around us are just as dangerous.
Now there are some qualities that I do not come by naturally – for example, patience is a virtue in which I’ve made great strides, but one in which I could still improve considerably. One thing I have always had, though, is a compassionate heart and gentle spirit. At times, the sarcasm or timidity makes it hard to see it, but it always lies there, just beneath the surface.
Words cannot express what a burden it is to have a soul like mine. Everyone is dealing with something, and to channel all their pain simultaneously would leave the person with even the strongest faith weary by the end of the day. There have been times in my life where the grief has been nearly unfathomable. There have also been times where I’ve found myself screaming at God and questioning why He gave me the kind of spirit He did. Tenderheartedness is by no means easy.
Just like everyone else at sometime or another, I have been known to unintentionally build a shell around myself to keep from getting too depressed by the broken heartedness of those that may surround me.
And every time, God sends a wrecking ball to tear down the walls and break the shell. You’re about to hear about one of those wrecking balls.
I was in my late teens and had gone on an errand to a well-known retail supercenter. While I was there, I felt that familiar urging from around my bladder area, informing me that a pit stop was in order. I made my way back to the ladies room.
Kneeling on the floor in the ladies room was a female employee; facing her was a small child that couldn’t have been any older than five. Attending to the task at hand, I paid them little mind at first. When I went to wash my hands, however, I couldn’t help but overhear bits and pieces of what was going on.
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