And now my soul is poured out within me; days of affliction have taken hold of me. – Job 30:16

   On this day, the above statement is not true for me. I feel particularly good and peaceful right now. And I am grateful for this even as I know states of grace are changeable. I hope this is a good day for you as well.
   At the corner of my consciousness, memories of other, harder times seep in. Thoughts of the troubles of others plague all who care. We all know that so many are afflicted with suffering today.
   The mind’s ability to forget its own pain is quite startling. When this phenomenon is in full force, our own comfort may keep us too distant from the suffering of others.
   My wife and I had an experience last weekend that startled our consciousness…

   After buying gas for a long drive to Atlanta, we headed for the car wash. It was a bright sunny day. Our thoughts were on the trip ahead and the time we would have alone in the car to share each other’s company.
   Near the entry to the car wash, an ancient Lincoln Continental that had seen much better days was parked. The driver’s side door handle was missing and had been replaced with rope. The landau roof was tattered. Paint lay in uneven flakes along the side panels.
   "What a shame," my wife said, looking at the car with sadness.
   As we edged toward the car wash, we both noticed movement in the Lincoln. Someone was in the car. A gray head rose into view. On the other side of the car, trash had fallen to the ground and a walker was tipped over. Should we stop?
   We looked around. Couldn’t someone else take care of this problem, I thought?
   But no one seemed to care. Cars moved through the car wash. People pumped gas. Folks bought snacks in the store, got into their cars, and drove away.
   I worked my way out of line, got out of my car, and approached the man. He was frail, looked in his late seventies and wore, on his left wrist, a row of hospital bracelets suggesting multiple admissions.
   The man was friendly but stubborn and he looked unwell. He had been living in his car for about three months, he said. No, he would not let us take him to the hospital that was literally in view a few hundred yards away. No, he would not let us help him to a homeless shelter. No, he would not call 211 or let me do it on his behalf. No, he didn’t know what to do except that he told us, politely, that he wanted to be left alone.
   We gave him a bottle of water. He thanked us. Then, we drove away, downcast over the lingering image of this troubled soul. I wondered how it could be that with all my training and resources, I seemed unable to help.
   Perhaps there are times when there is simply nothing we can do. When the soul of another is afflicted, we are touched as well. That is why it is difficult for any aware person to be at peace. Each of us knows that there is always suffering in the world.
   For caregivers, there will never be enough help or enough Love to dissolve suffering. And we must never give up trying to be agents of loving care, even though we will, as I did with the old man in the car, sometimes fail.

-Erie Chapman