DUELING PERSONALITIES . . .

Sometimes, I have a really difficult time feeling sympathy, or even pity, for others. The people so needy that they need to repeat story about themselves after story about themselves so that they can hear continued affirmation and praise. The people so insecure that they need to scream virtually every comment and question so as to ascertain that people are hearing them. The people so afraid of being invisible that they lose all concept of personal space and invade everyone else's so as to make sure that they are seen and noticed. The people so hating the possibility that someone else might be smarter than them that they use big vague vocabulary words to convey concepts that they think are lofty and intelligent, and will be viewed as such.

My wall goes up and my heart hardens against these people, probably because I recognize seeds of these characteristics in myself and wish I could build a wall against myself too. It exhausts me to plumb my mind for one kind thought to think of these folks.

But other times, my heart melts for others, and I melt along with it until I'm a big puddle o' sympathy on the floor, mixing in with my own tears. The people so faithful but who have yet to see with human eyes the fruits of their faith. The people so heartbreakingly prayerful but to whom the Lord says "wait on Me ... no matter how long." The people so devoted to their children but who must suddenly prepare for long days away from them. The people so honest and trusting but who must suddenly deal with betrayal and disillusionment. The people so pulled and frayed already but who must take on added responsibilities with no bonus rewards. The people who speak plainly and speak truth but who just can't get through to their loved ones for whom they simply desire boundless joy. The people who give and give of all that they are, but who never seem to catch a break in return.

I get so embroiled in the maze of these people's lives that sometimes, it's all I can think about. My dreams consist solely of worry, anxiety, hope, anger, longing, and wishful thoughts for them. I wish I was a magical FEMA fairy, able to put out fires, heal wounds, build shelters, hand out low-interest loans, perform miracles of the body and soul, restore trust and faith. Or, in the alternative, I wish I was at least eloquent enough to say exactly the right thing at exactly the right time, and bring a smile to someone's face and a touch of comfort to someone's aching and burdened heart.

But lo, I am merely human, and worse than that, I'm just me. Siiiiiigggggggghhhhhh. What's a girl to do.