shh, be very very quiet.

this semester i was asked to practice a spiritual discipline for 6 weeks and to record my thoughts about it in a reflective paper. at one point in the essay, i wrote this:

But I also knew that I was failing in my goals of compassion. On one particular day in October, I returned to my house after attending the after-school program at New Hope Ministries. I was overjoyed about the positive connections I made with two of the girls that day, and my excitement spilled into my conversation with my roommate Megan—I felt I had to tell someone about my good news. So I went on and on about the happenings with New Hope, nearly forcing Megan to celebrate with me. I found out later that week that Meg had had a bad day, and immediately I felt terrible that I was so overly jubilant in her more melancholy presence. I could have been more sympathetic towards her; I could have been more sensitive to her feelings, but instead I was busy celebrating my own small victories. That night I wondered, does being intentionally silent mean that I have to bottle up my own emotions for the sake of acting compassionately toward others?


this morning i was thinking a lot about this question. what is my priority--another's feelings, or my own desire to be recognized?

during this semester i also had the opportunity to study some spiritual giants: Mother Teresa and Brother Roger of Taize. when i think about Mother Teresa and Brother Roger, i simply cannot imagine them celebrating in the face of a melancholy brother or sister. especially Mother. she didn't even celebrate her own birthday, let alone the huge victories of her own achievements.

God, what does it mean to be humble? what does it mean that you sent your son to live among men and women?