I was just talking with a friend I haven’t talked to in quite a while–months, probably. We were never extremely close (in fact I mostly felt like his acquaintance), but we talked every once in a while and he was always very upbeat, if a little cynical and more focused on getting laughter sometimes than any actual meaning in a conversation. But, that just tended to make him more fun, even if we didn’t have a friendship that was really rooted in something.
As I regained contact with him, I braced myself for his humor and the old nature I remembered. But instead of random, detached jokes, a real story greeted me: a sobering one. While he’s been staying in the east for a while, his recently divorced mother had decided to shut him out of her house upon his return, and made it impossible for my friend to see his father. My friend has no money and still has two years left of high school to manage–needless to say, he doesn’t have the resources to figure out how to negotiate his situation.
Through the conversation, the optimist inside of me tried desperately to cling to other options for my friend and possible things to distract him. Finally, I claimed that “if nothing else, there’s always the youth mission, or whatever it’s called.” Without having any idea of how he would react, I think I was kind of buffering the statement (or myself) with the “whatever it’s called” part. And sure enough, my friend would hear nothing of it.
“You know I don’t accept charity,” he said. I didn’t, in fact, know that about him, but I would soon enough. “I need to work for it somehow, and, more importantly, that people worse off than me should take that opportunity, not me.”
I guess I still don’t know what to make of that. Some of those places to make kids work for the privilege to stay there, and they’re run by volunteers who are happy to dedicate their time to the shelter or whatever place it is. I said, “it’s all relative,” but he disagreed.
You just can’t argue with some people. But that’s not the point.
The point is that sometimes, all you can do is pray. And what I’m slowly realizing is that as I and my friends grow up and start encountering things that we’ve never experienced before, we can’t always act according to “best interests” or “the right thing to do,” because we just plain don’t know what those things are. So I guess people pray that some other force can guide them. I don’t know why that’s better– either way, we feel like a situation is out of our control; sometimes we ask for help, and sometimes we don’t.
I’ve never really been very good at prayer or interested in it, but I’m starting to think that the most meaningful part is not necessarily the connection one makes with God through it, but the connection one makes with fellow humans through it. Whether we think anyone “up there” is listening, we feel good about it. If we pray for someone else, we are comforted by knowing we may be doing the only thing that’s in our power to do; if we pray for ourselves, we’re comforted knowing that even if nothing comes of it, we’ve asked for help.
Maybe that’s my gut feeling about what my friend said to me about charity. Personally, I like to be asked for help. It makes me feel capable, loving, and needed, as well as a mutual nurturer. And I know there are other people in the world like that–some of them work at youth hostels, I would bet. (As I side note, I just happened to wonder if God likes to be asked for help… interesting.) So besides the fact that hostels and other “charities” exist to be taken advantage of by anyone (just like how anyone can pray, not just those who “really need it”), the people involved might actually feel privileged to help.
I don’t want to see my friend suffer, but I also don’t want to undermine his beliefs–I have the utmost respect for his opinions about charity (and sympathize with them, to some extent). But we, his friends, would probably rather see him swallow his pride than pitch a tent on a street corner.
I rarely, if ever, pray. But whenever I do, the thought or wish that usually surfaces when I’m grappling for something to pray “about” is that most of all, I would like some guidance in prayer itself. This time is no different. Do I pray for my friend to find a roof over his head, no matter what the conditions are, as long as his beliefs are upheld? Do I pray for him to, just this once, abandon his rules and take advantage of the charities that are available to him? Do I pray for his mother, who can really be seen as the root of this problem?
As usual, I can’t decide… and luckily, I don’t think it’s for me to decide. The prayers I do come up with can usually be boiled down to one theme: peace. I know, hippieness blah blah blah. But really, is there anything more powerful that I can pray for than for my friend to be at peace? The actual events at stake here are out of my control; they’re out of my friend’s; and they’re out of the control of everyone else who is praying for him. So ultimately, I would like to pray for him to be at peace with whatever ends up happening, whether it’s his will or not. And for all of us to keep love in our hearts first and foremost. ((w&f))
Title courtesy of Jon Foreman’s, “Again”
