In the short span of walking home from dinner, I practically tripped on a young boy curled-up to sleep, and witnessed the crash of a motorcycle with three people on it, one being a little girl not more than five, or six. She was thrown-off the bike and then skid across the ground, yet didn’t bat an eye, or shed a tear. That’s not normal. Or it’s not “our normal,” at least. The risk, fear and pain factors of this continent travel in a different wavelength than we do. Infants here could win “Survivor” with their eyes closed. Adults would just laugh at its concept. Or lustfully cry. Extremes of a TV show for us, are samplings of normality for an African. Does one ever get numb to these horrific exposures? For me at least, I think I would say I’ve become numb to the element of surprise, but am still pained by the elements of the stories. And to be honest, I hope it stays that way.

I don’t think there’s a story you could tell me, on that soil or this one, which would surprise me. I don’t think there’s a height of depravity, or depth of humanity, which would overwhelm me. It’d be tough to catch me off-guard, given the hidden heart, motivation, or manipulation of an individual. But at the same time, I seem to remain aware and feeling of the effects and affects of a given story. I think it would be easier, however, and certainly more efficient and less emotionally draining, to ‘not’ hold this awareness, but I also think that would be death—death to living, or the sign of a dying life.

To be numb seems to negate a felt sense of the senses, to hibernate silence and stillness of one’s Spirit. He, or she, is masked by busyness, or idle noise. Being still and silent, however, is what reveals a need beyond ourselves—a knowledge of feelings beyond our comprehension. When I am numb, I have convinced myself that I do not need…, and they do not need… “We’re all okay,” I say. “Such is life…it’ll work-out in the long-run…just a temporary bout between the ying and the yang…etc.” Numbness is like a justifying optimism, a state of consciousness that dissolves reality into nothing more than selfish permissibility. This reminds me of when Jesus attempts to explain the danger of not realizing our need for forgiveness.

“Then one of the Pharisees invited Him (Jesus) to eat with him. He entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. And a woman in the town who was a sinner found out that Jesus was reclining at the table in the Pharisee’s house. She brought an alabaster flask of fragrant oil and stood behind Him at His feet, weeping, and began to wash His feet with her tears. She wiped His feet with the hair of her head, kissing them and anointing them with the fragrant oil. When the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he said to himself, “This man, if He were a prophet, would know who and what kind of woman this is who is touching Him—she’s a sinner! Jesus replied to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he said, “say it.” “A creditor had two debtors. One owed 500 denarii’s, and the other 50. Since they could not pay it back, he graciously forgave them both. So, which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “I suppose the one he forgave more.” “You have judged correctly,” He told him. Turning to the woman, He said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she, with her tears, has washed My feet and wiped them with her hair. You gave Me no kiss, but she hasn’t stopped kissing My feet since I came in. You didn’t anoint My head with oil, but she has anointed My feet with fragrant oil. Therefore I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; that’s why she loved much. But the one who is forgiven little, loves little.” Then He said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” Those who were at the table with Him began to say among themselves, “Who is this man who even forgives sins?” And Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.” (Luke 7.36-50)

Correct me if I’m wrong here, but I think numbness is a refusal, or at least minimizing, of our need for forgiveness. And the worst, or craziest, addendum to that is that I think it’s natural. I think we are more susceptible, and comfortable, to live hidden from our true state and thus, that of another. Human nature avoids emptiness, brokenness and shameless feeling at all costs. And numbness is its greatest defender, whereby we find ourselves content in a realm of mediocre, functioning well maybe, but failing to experience the actualities of life, those of elation and those of desperation.

I sometimes volunteer at a hospital with kids born, developed, or damaged by long-term head-injuries. Dakota is one of my favorite little girls here. She’s a chatty, little ray of sunshine, but silenced by a cage, helmet and hand-coverings. Dakota was born numb to pain. If she is burned, bleeding, or beaten, she doesn’t have the capacity to feel the situation. What a tragedy, and what a greater tragedy that we are apt to choose. “God, help us. Help us never be overwhelmed by states and stories of humanity, but also help us never go numb to the feelings we find in Your presence. Amen.”