Holding on to what is precious
I'm a Christian, and I'm a Social Worker. The journey these past 4 months have taught me many things. While it is true that psychology can explain many things about why people are the way they do, psychology cannot sustain me as a social worker. Psychology cannot fuel my heart.
Psychology helps when it helps me to see a person with all the things that he's coming with. His coping mechanisms, his defences, his life journey, his family-of-origin issues, his instinctive reactions to others. But these things do not explain the incredible emptiness inside when I see something depressing, or something that shouldn't be. They don't explain the desire inside to cling on to something I can cling on to, even as I journey as a social worker.
I need the Cross of Christ. I am convinced that the Cross is where the perfect representation of all that is good is revealed. It is where we find love and sacrifice, justice and mercy, faithfulness and grace. These are the very things we crave for most deeply in our hearts. With the Cross, I have a reason to say that a husband should not threaten to beat his wife to a pulp, because now I know that there is an example of love for me to hold on to. With the Cross, I can truthfully tell a mother who goes without food so that her child does not need to be embarrassed when her classmates want to go to MacDonalds' that she loves her child, because she has sacrificed herself. With the Cross, I can tell a suicidal person that she can hold on, she needs to hold on, she must hold on, because there is good and there is grace in this world.
I need the Cross of Christ, to hold on to it, to cherish it, to love it. I need to know in my heart of hearts that Goodness does exist, and to know that at one point in history it existed in its perfect, untarnished form.
And that, helps me to go on.
Psychology helps when it helps me to see a person with all the things that he's coming with. His coping mechanisms, his defences, his life journey, his family-of-origin issues, his instinctive reactions to others. But these things do not explain the incredible emptiness inside when I see something depressing, or something that shouldn't be. They don't explain the desire inside to cling on to something I can cling on to, even as I journey as a social worker.
I need the Cross of Christ. I am convinced that the Cross is where the perfect representation of all that is good is revealed. It is where we find love and sacrifice, justice and mercy, faithfulness and grace. These are the very things we crave for most deeply in our hearts. With the Cross, I have a reason to say that a husband should not threaten to beat his wife to a pulp, because now I know that there is an example of love for me to hold on to. With the Cross, I can truthfully tell a mother who goes without food so that her child does not need to be embarrassed when her classmates want to go to MacDonalds' that she loves her child, because she has sacrificed herself. With the Cross, I can tell a suicidal person that she can hold on, she needs to hold on, she must hold on, because there is good and there is grace in this world.
I need the Cross of Christ, to hold on to it, to cherish it, to love it. I need to know in my heart of hearts that Goodness does exist, and to know that at one point in history it existed in its perfect, untarnished form.
And that, helps me to go on.
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